The garbage storm finally subsided.
Not because the crowd had calmed down.
But because they had quite literally run out of "ammunition."
On the towering cross, the once "presentable" Grandmaster was no longer recognizable as human.
Yu Xiaogang's body was plastered with rotten vegetable leaves and clumps of unknown sticky filth. A broken straw sandal sat crookedly on his head like a mocking crown. Sour, foul-smelling liquid slowly dripped down his pale, bloated cheeks, pooling at his chin before falling drop by drop onto the ground below.
The stench alone was enough to make people gag.
He was the very picture of disgrace—filthy, pitiful, and utterly ruined.
Yet even under such extreme humiliation, even after being drowned beneath the hatred of hundreds of thousands, Yu Xiaogang did not fully collapse.
Instead—
He trembled.
Then, inch by inch, he raised his head again.
As he opened his mouth, several wilted vegetable leaves slipped out and fell to the ground. His eyes, half-hidden beneath layers of garbage, fixed themselves stubbornly on the viewing platform.
His voice, like a cracked gong scraped raw by rust, rang out hoarsely with his final—and most shameless—retort.
"Heh… heh heh…"
He laughed.
The laughter was ugly, twisted, filled with the warped triumph of someone who believed he had survived the worst.
"Even if—"
"Even if I didn't fully consider physical strength…"
"That only proves my theory has flaws!"
"But it does not prove I plagiarized!"
His voice suddenly rose, shrill and piercing, like a night owl screaming in the dark.
"So what if Spirit Hall has records?!"
"On the contrary—doesn't that prove my calculations were correct?!"
"I, Yu Xiaogang, independently deduced the same conclusions through my own wisdom!"
"This precisely proves my talent and greatness!"
"You're jealous!"
"This is blatant jealousy!"
The moment those words left his mouth—
The entire square plunged into an eerie, suffocating silence.
No curses.
No screams.
No trash flying through the air.
Everyone was stunned into complete speechlessness.
For a brief instant, a single thought surfaced in countless minds—
Could… could someone really twist logic like this?
On the viewing platform—
"I'll f*ck your mother!!!"
A thunderous roar exploded without warning!
Devil Bear Douluo shot up from his seat as if ignited. Veins bulged across his rugged face, muscles swelling grotesquely as terrifying spirit power erupted from his body, warping the air itself!
He pointed violently at Yu Xiaogang on the cross, trembling from pure rage.
"You motherf*cking bastard!"
"I've never seen someone this shameless in my entire life!"
Judging by his posture, he looked ready to charge down the platform, rip the cross out of the ground, and smash Yu Xiaogang into paste along with it.
"Devil Bear! Sit down!"
Golden Crocodile Douluo let out a low, commanding growl. A heavy, ancient aura slammed down, forcibly pressing Devil Bear Douluo back into his seat.
Devil Bear Douluo panted violently, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. In the end, he could only glare murderously at Yu Xiaogang, eyes blazing with the desire to flay him alive.
And he was far from alone.
At this moment, every single Elder of Spirit Hall wore an ashen expression.
Plagiarize something—
Then turn around and claim independent research—
And finally accuse the original owner of jealousy?!
What kind of world-shattering, bottomless bullsh*t logic was this?!
"Evidence?"
Bibi Dong's crimson lips parted slightly, her voice calm but edged with mockery.
"Good."
"Then this Pope will make you give up completely."
She was already about to signal her subordinates to bring out the ironclad evidence—records, timelines, testimonies—everything prepared to utterly crush Yu Xiaogang's last shred of sophistry.
But at that moment—
At the very center of the viewing platform—
Lin Feng, who had been lazily leaning back as if half-asleep the entire time, finally moved.
Host, this woman is too slow, the system's venomous voice sounded in his mind at just the right moment.
Judging a criminal with so much buildup and drama is inefficient. This system recommends direct physical transcendence or spiritual destruction for optimal results.
Lin Feng didn't even bother lifting his eyelids.
What do you know? he replied lazily in his heart. This is called ritual.
Though… it is getting a bit slow.
He yawned, propped his chin up with one hand, and finally shifted his gaze away from Zhu Zhuyun's graceful curves beside him, looking instead toward Yu Xiaogang.
Then he spoke, casually, as if commenting on the weather.
"No need for all this trouble."
Trouble?
Bibi Dong froze.
To her, this was judgment.
Revenge.
A public execution of reputation and dignity.
Yet in the Senior's eyes—
It was merely trouble?
Before she could process the meaning of his words—
Lin Feng casually extended his slender index finger and flicked it toward the cross.
There was no surge of spirit power.
No terrifying pressure.
No divine radiance shaking the heavens.
Only a tiny golden speck of light—so small it seemed insignificant—drifted out from his fingertip, serene and pure, as if embodying the very concept of truth.
The speck moved slowly.
Yet it ignored distance and space entirely, locking onto its target with absolute certainty. In its presence, any attempt at evasion felt laughably meaningless.
The instant Yu Xiaogang saw that golden light—
All color drained from his already filthy face.
"What are you doing?!"
"What are you trying to do?!"
He thrashed wildly on the cross like a cornered beast, chains rattling violently as terror overtook him.
"You want to kill me?!"
"Murder to silence!"
"You're murdering me to cover it up!"
His screams earned not a shred of sympathy.
Every gaze in the square was fixed on that tiny golden light.
Then—
To everyone's surprise—
The golden speck gently floated before Yu Xiaogang's forehead and softly merged into the space between his brows.
One second.
Two seconds.
Ten seconds.
Nothing happened.
No pain.
No explosion.
No scream.
Yu Xiaogang froze.
He instinctively felt his body—no abnormalities, no discomfort, not even a strange sensation.
"…It's over?"
Relief surged through him, followed immediately by confusion—and then a ridiculous sense of triumph.
A bluff.
That little white-faced bastard must've been enraged by my flawless logic and tried to scare me!
And the result? Completely useless!
His back seemed to straighten slightly.
And just then—
On the viewing platform, Lin Feng withdrew his finger without even sparing Yu Xiaogang another glance. He turned his head and casually said to the still-stunned Bibi Dong beside him,
"If you want to know anything…"
"Just ask him directly now."
The moment those words were spoken—
Bibi Dong's amethyst eyes trembled violently.
She stared at Lin Feng's calm, handsome profile as if struck by lightning.
That technique—
Could it be… that?
A scene from not long ago instantly flashed through her mind.
Xue Beng.
The Heaven Dou prince.
How he had uncontrollably blurted out his deepest, most treasonous thoughts in public after a single casual remark from the Senior—
A scene of absolute, irreversible social death.
Did the Senior…
Use the same method—
On Yu Xiaogang?