Chapter 373: Opponent

Since the competition committee had foreseen this and dispatched a strong police force in advance to maintain order, their convoy drove smoothly into the stadium parking lot.

But just as Li Mochen stepped off the school bus, he suddenly felt a sensation and frowned as he looked ahead. Then he saw a youth of about seventeen or eighteen walking toward him from about thirty meters away.

The youth had thick flaxen blond hair, a high-bridged nose, and deep-set eyes that gleamed with a sharp, oppressive light. It was as if he were a drawn sword slashing toward them.

Li Mochen recognized him, and precisely because he did, surprise flickered in his eyes. This was Felton Williams, another 'monster' sponsored by Nathan Sports Group. But shouldn't this guy be on the West Coast competing in the state-level tournament there?

Williams soon closed to within ten meters, and then an invisible domain and pressure suddenly expanded from him.

"Divine Might?"

At that moment, the security personnel provided by the academy, Li Mochen's private bodyguards, the police in the parking lot, and the stadium security all became alert.

Some overreacted and even drew their guns on the flaxen-haired youth.

Williams, however, continued forward unconcernedly, and with each step, his spiritual pressure intensified. By the time he reached Li Mochen, nearly half of the entourage provided by the academy had fainted. Another half were forced to kneel on one knee by the immense pressure.

Li Mochen himself felt nothing, but anger crept into his eyes. The hostility the other displayed was unmistakable.

Yet just as he prepared to respond, he saw William Jacques beside him trembling, his legs braced straight. This William hadn't fallen, but he was struggling, in a dangerous state.

Given his magic level of only six and lacking any powerful magical artifacts, this was quite remarkable.

Li Mochen's mind stirred, and he abandoned the idea of releasing his own 'Divine Might.'

Dragons have 'Dragon Might,' and gods have 'Divine Might'—a natural pressure exerted by higher life forms of a different essence over lower ones.

But Dragon Might can be released with just dragon blood, while 'Divine Might' requires achieving demigod status or having a certain level of divine blood within.

This Felton Williams had quite pure divine blood; he could already be called a child of a god.

Li Mochen was confident that the purity of his own Titan blood surpassed that of the other, and in terms of spiritual power, he was several levels above him.

But if he released his spiritual pressure now and clashed with Williams, the result would be William Jacques's complete collapse.

So Li Mochen not only held back from releasing his spiritual pressure but also took Angela's hand. When it came to spiritual power clashes, she too could crush this youth.

Unfortunately, Felton Williams himself was completely unaware of this. A hint of complacency flickered in his eyes, along with a trace of contempt.

"So I meet you, lucky Andre. Give your all in today's matches; I'll be watching from the stands. Of course, if you're scared, you can always hold back."

Li Mochen was baffled, completely unable to understand what the other was saying. He could only detect a note of reluctance in Williams's tone.

"Some people think you're my toughest opponent in this year's competition, aside from Glenn Adams. He asked me to come see for myself, to properly understand the opponent, so here I am."

Williams said, looking Li Mochen up and down: "I hope today's match will be at least a little exciting, so I didn't make the trip for nothing. You know, a single flight of my private jet costs tens of thousands of gold shields."

"Wow, a private jet? Loaded, huh?"

William Jacques, though his face was dark with displeasure, said: "Acting like you're so great, but our A-Mo's net worth is already in the billions."

He knew that Li Mochen's Sunrise Electric retail company was rapidly expanding in this city and raking in money hand over fist. According to financial experts, Sunrise's daily net income was at least ten million gold shields; over a year, wouldn't that be tens of billions?

Angela tilted her head: "I bet you're no match for A-Mo right now. Want to make a bet? The wager is a private jet, a Saint Eagle 350, with a range of 19,500 kilometers, seating 132 people, currently priced at fifty-eight million gold shields."

A glint of gold flashed deep in Felton Williams's pupils. He swept a cold gaze over William and Angela, then snorted disdainfully and turned to leave: "Keep your people in line, lucky Andre. I don't want to talk to a bunch of trash. And you might be a waste too."

Angela was momentarily stunned, and Lina also gripped her sword in displeasure.

Li Mochen shook his head, having lost interest in bickering with this Williams.

He thought the best way to make this man see reality was to defeat him in the ring. Speaking of which, he was also disappointed—was this the kind of person Dwight Payton had designated as the target he must take down?

"Coach Ricard, can you ask the competition committee how this guy got into the players' parking lot? Have them investigate."

Li Mochen didn't want to argue with an arrogant fool, but having his mood ruined by this man today still annoyed him.

...

Ten minutes later, Felton Williams returned to Box 13 inside the stadium. In the moderately spacious room, only one person sat alone.

It was a middle-aged man in a black tuxedo, smoking a cigar.

"You saw him. What do you think?"

"What do I think? Mediocre. No stronger than my previous opponents."

Williams sat down in a nearby seat with an indifferent expression: "Are you sure he'll be a hindrance to me later?"

"Haven't you seen his fight videos?"

The middle-aged man blew smoke rings: "That guy's technique is truly top-notch. With a certain level of strength, he can stand at the very top of his age group."

"I'm not James Lanster, that fool who can't even control his own strength. There's a two-level gap between him and me."

Williams disagreed: "The East does have a saying about skill overcoming a thousand pounds of force, but before that, there's also the phrase 'brute force defeats ten masters.' With little difference in skill between us, I'm confident I can crush him."

"The problem is, you have to defeat him in the round of 32 before you can face Glenn Adams. Until then, you need to stay in peak condition. I've already sounded out Dwight Payton; he won't force this Andre to step aside. The board of Nathan Corporation values him more than you now."

The middle-aged man glanced sideways: "You saw his fans outside the stadium today, didn't you, Felton? At least 150,000 people, though most of them couldn't get tickets."