"Huh?"
Emiya Shirou squinted hard at Lao Tang's smooth, youthful face. He stared so long his eyes nearly went blurry—and still found nothing off.
Seriously? Just days ago they'd chatted casually about the Atlas Institute, and now Lao Tang was dropping this impossibly perfectly timed surprise bomb...
Was Shirou just blessed with a golden tongue? Or was Lao Tang seriously hacking reality?
"Hey, bro, don't look at me like that—I'm telling the truth!" Lao Tang insisted, his tone sincere. "All my memories came back. I remember now—those Seven Deadly Sins weapons? I brought them out of the Atlas Institute ages ago. And my brain feels amazing now—like it's running on multiple processors. I've got Lao Tang #1, #2, #3…"
As he spoke, Lao Tang held his breath and closed his eyes. Two seconds later, he opened them wide and pointed to his own handsome face.
"Bro, hit me. Right here. With force!"
"For real or for play?"
"Come on, quit the talk—for real! Today you're gonna see what real power looks like! I'm not the same old Lao Tang—I've evolved!"
Seeing the determination in his eyes, Shirou raised his fist. With a sudden surge of strength, he faked a right hook… then launched a whip-like kick instead.
But somehow, Lao Tang sidestepped perfectly, as if he already knew that was coming.
Heh, can't land a hit? Shirou wasn't convinced and launched into a barrage of flying spin kicks. Lao Tang responded with a roguish smirk and began weaving with footwork so agile, he looked like he was skating across the air.
"Wait—bro, are you actually hacking?"
Lao Tang rolled his eyes. "Please. This is combat intelligence, not cheating. The moment you make a move, the personalities in my head cross-analyze everything, like I've got a quantum computer up there crunching all your patterns—"
"Shirou bro, the moment you move—I already know your next step."
HAHAHA! Lao Tang was bursting with pride inside. He could see the future! Wasn't this basically invincibility?!
Who needs swordmasters when you've got me?
"Again!" Shirou exhaled, and magic surged throughout his body like a river.
Time to get serious.
Lately, he'd been sparring with Zhou family martial artists like Zhou Minhao, experimenting with different fighting styles. A feeling had started to grow—a hazy, indistinct intuition.
It wasn't a sixth sense. It was pure bodily instinct.
"…"
Shirou entered a stance. Unlike Lao Tang, who calculated with his brain, Shirou's method was the opposite—he emptied his mind and let his body take over.
Lao Tang was about to joke, "Bring it on, bro," but as soon as he tried analyzing the stance… his face fell.
Crap. What kind of technique is this? His processors were struggling.
WHOOSH!
Shirou dashed forward without warning. Lao Tang clenched his teeth and charged too—if he didn't move first, he'd be cornered!
Shirou's sudden speed was like a hunting beast, feral and explosive. But Lao Tang had already calculated: Shirou would crouch low then strike from his blind left side with a serpent-like jab—
Whoosh! The air cracked like a whip, and Lao Tang swayed just in time. Their bodies crossed. But Lao Tang didn't let down his guard.
The next move would be a sharp step, followed by a heavy palm strike using his waist as the pivot—like a dragon twisting midair.
It was none other than the flowing palm technique: Bagua Dragon Form.
Anticipating it, Lao Tang turned and met the strike head-on. BOOM! The clash echoed like a bell tolling in the room. Magic flared from both their palms, filling the air with rolling thunder.
But Lao Tang's skills were still rough. Despite his surge of mana, his technique lagged behind. In that split-second, he was forced into retreat. Sure, he could've countered with a flame burst—but that risked burning down the room.
Still, he used the force to angle away—and once again, he'd predicted Shirou's combo. A close shave, but calculated. His next palm just barely missed Lao Tang's face—
Then, the unexpected happened.
Shirou's "palm" suddenly morphed into a fist—just as it passed Lao Tang's cheek.
And that fist extended half a foot further like it was made of rubber.
Lao Tang's eyes bulged. What the—Rubber Arm Fist!?
SMACK! His smug, sage-like face took the hit full force. He toppled backward, crashing hard onto the wooden floor.
Lying there, one hand clutching his swollen cheek, Lao Tang winced and sucked in a sharp breath. After a moment of stunned silence, he muttered bitterly:
"Damn it, bro—no face shots! At least go easy on poor old Lao Tang!"
"…Weren't you the one who told me to hit for real?" Shirou deadpanned.
So what now, Lao Tang? Done playing the expert?
Lao Tang sprang up with a dramatic kip-up, one hand still nursing his face, waving the other frantically.
"No more! I quit—I'm done pretending to be some martial arts master!"
But curiosity got the better of him. "Wait… bro, how'd you change tactics like that? I couldn't calculate a thing!"
Shirou replied calmly, "It's a battle instinct called Mind's Eye. It allows you to predict your opponent based on pure experience. The more experience you have, the better your predictions."
"…Your precognition may be impressive, Lao Tang, but I know its range. I just adjusted my strategy within that scope. Bit by bit, I closed off your escape paths."
Lao Tang's jaw dropped. "Wait, so if a real martial arts expert fights me, my future sight is useless? They'll just trap me in close combat and shut down all my dodging routes!"
Shirou shook his finger. "Not necessarily. If they predict you—you can predict their prediction. It becomes a battle of meta-prediction. Whoever sees further ahead… wins."
The one with the farthest foresight would control the battlefield.
Lao Tang's eyes lit up. So there's still hope for me to be an expert?!
But… how do you train further foresight?
Shirou dropped into a stance. "Wanna learn? I'll teach you."
"The secret to it all… is one word: practice. The more you fight, the better you get. You fight me, I fight you—we both grow stronger."
Lao Tang's face paled slightly, his cheek still aching.
Wait a minute… was this just revenge for ditching Shirou to deal with the Mother of Creation alone last time?
(End of Chapter)
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