Chapter 31: Possessed by the Overlord

Ding—
Please choose: Reveal or Conceal the possession of the Conqueror of Western Chu.
The system’s prompt rang out.
Damn! Reveal or conceal?
Chen Yufeng hadn’t paid much attention to these two properties before, but now, as he scanned them with his mind, he realized that one could choose to let the character’s possession manifest outwardly.
In other words, if he chose to reveal the possession of the Conqueror of Western Chu now, the true appearance of the Conqueror would emerge, meaning for the next ten minutes, he would look exactly like the mighty overlord himself.
“So, if I next choose to reveal a Super Saiyan possession, wouldn’t I turn into a Super Saiyan? Damn, that would be way too cool.”
Chen Yufeng mused gleefully, recalling how Goku transformed into a Super Saiyan in Dragon Ball, and thinking how amazing that looked.
Someday, he should try a Super Saiyan transformation himself.
But for now, he’d better deal with the immediate situation.
Naturally, he chose to conceal the possession—meaning he’d have the power of the Conqueror of Western Chu, but his own body would not change. If he did reveal it, these people would surely think he was some kind of monster.
Ding—
Possession of the Conqueror of Western Chu successful, property concealed.
With the system’s confirmation, Chen Yufeng felt a sudden jolt in his body. Then, he sensed a surge of strength flooding his limbs, making him feel incredibly powerful.
Inside, a torrent of battle energy was erupting.
His blood boiled and burned.
This was the power of the Conqueror of Western Chu?
Indeed, it was strength enough to uproot mountains and dominate the world! The overlord has descended—tremble, you fools!
At that moment, Chen Yufeng’s mind was flooded with an unstoppable will to fight, an urge to smash gods and slay demons.
He could hardly bear it—he needed a fight!
Meanwhile, He Shihao, Wu Weiming, and Zheng Jiancheng, who stood by watching the drama unfold, all sensed a sudden surge of aura from the so-called charlatan.
How to describe this aura?
They couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt terrifying, a sense of oppressive power that made their bodies shudder unconsciously.
Especially those murderous eyes, bloodthirsty and cold, made them unable to meet his gaze, filling them with dread.
In truth, this was the domineering aura emitted from Xiang Yu, the Conqueror of Western Chu, combined with the terrifying murderous intent formed after slaughtering countless foes.
When these two energies combined, ordinary people would naturally feel fear and dare not look directly.
Noticing something strange about the charlatan, the three were still puzzling over it.
But Chen Yufeng was already moving.
He suddenly leapt from the hospital bed, and with a casual push, easily shoved He Meixuan and He Shihao aside, glancing at them with a touch of annoyance:

“Honestly, haven’t you had enough? Was the beating really that satisfying?”
“You damned charlatan, you…”
He Shihao was about to continue his attack, ready to hammer him with his fist.
But as Chen Yufeng’s fierce gaze swept over him, he felt a tremor in his heart, and the fist he’d raised froze in midair.
“Move aside, and I won’t bother with you. Just prepare the compensation fee.”
Chen Yufeng’s target for venting his wrath wasn’t them, so there was no need to act against them. Still, having been beaten for nothing, he felt annoyed; at least they owed him some compensation for emotional distress.
“You arrogant charlatan…”
He Meixuan’s anger hadn’t yet dissipated and she wanted to hit him again, but He Shihao quickly stopped her.
That old fox, sharp as ever, sensed the situation had changed and wouldn’t let his precious daughter foolishly rush in and get beaten. He swiftly pulled He Meixuan aside.
Then he instructed the nurse to call security.
Chen Yufeng ignored them, focusing his attention on Wu Weiming.
Poor Wu Weiming had no idea how terrifying his opponent was. Puffing his chest, fists clenched, he shouted at Chen Yufeng with the bravado of a reckless youth:
“You damned charlatan, what do you want? A fight?”
“Not a fight—just beating you.”
Chen Yufeng’s expression turned cold, murderous intent radiating from him, his eyes filled with bloodthirsty violence. Wu Weiming felt a chill in his heart and swallowed hard.
Wu Weiming couldn’t understand why this charlatan suddenly seemed so intimidating—so strange.
He felt uneasy, but with He Meixuan and her father watching, he couldn’t back down and had to grit his teeth and press on.
“You think you can fool me with some sleight of hand?”
In those few seconds, Wu Weiming suddenly realized—it must be some trick.
A charlatan wandering the streets would surely know some crooked methods to deceive people.
Sleight of hand? Mere tricks. Against my absolute strength, he’s destined to get beaten.
“Take this!”
Wu Weiming, standing at six-foot-one and trained at the Martial Arts Academy, had his own pride.
He didn’t retreat, but advanced with a loud shout, biting his lip as he launched a powerful high kick at Chen Yufeng.
Seeing the swift, fierce attack—so much more formidable than those street thugs—Chen Yufeng realized Wu Weiming was the real deal.
Without the Conqueror’s possession, he’d have been utterly outmatched.
But now…
Wu Weiming was confident his iron legs would easily defeat the charlatan.
But to his surprise, just as his kick was about to hit Chen Yufeng, the latter casually swung a fist, striking his leg with immense force and sending him flying two meters away.
Bang—

Wu Weiming crashed into the wall and fell to the ground, his face twisted in pain—clearly not a light fall.
“Wow… amazing…”
The others in the ward watched in shock, eyes wide with disbelief.
Wu Weiming looked much larger and stronger than the charlatan, and the kick he’d launched was powerful.
How could he be felled by a single punch?
“You damned charlatan, you’re looking for trouble!”
Wu Weiming, knocked to the ground, was furious. How could he lose to a street charlatan?
Impossible—it must have been a fluke.
He instinctively believed he’d simply been careless, not that he was weaker.
After a brief pause, Wu Weiming gritted his teeth, endured the pain, and charged at Chen Yufeng with his fists swinging.
This time, he unleashed his full strength, his enormous fists like steel hammers—one could imagine the consequences if they landed.
But his punch never reached Chen Yufeng; instead, his wrist was firmly seized, and no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free.
Chen Yufeng applied a bit of pressure, and Wu Weiming cried out in pain:
“Ah!”
While the others in the ward stared in shock, Chen Yufeng suddenly lifted the burly Wu Weiming off the ground, hoisting him overhead and tossing him up and down like a toy.
Wu Weiming felt utterly humiliated, but powerless to resist—he could only shout in protest.
He Shihao and the others were dumbstruck—Wu Weiming weighed at least 180 pounds.
How could the charlatan lift him? And single-handedly, over his head!
My god, was this the legendary martial arts master?
Watching their stunned faces, Chen Yufeng felt invigorated—possession by the Conqueror was simply awesome. Lifting a person? Hell, he could probably lift a cauldron.
After playing with Wu Weiming for a while, he finally set him down.
Pick a fight with me, and you’ll lose all dignity—I’ll humiliate you thoroughly.
Just half a minute ago, Wu Weiming was like a mighty lion; now he was little more than a defeated shrimp, glaring fiercely at Chen Yufeng.
He was consumed with hatred, practically murderous.
He’d never expected this street charlatan to be a hidden master. Calming down, he finally realized he was truly outmatched.
Though he’d lost face in front of He Shihao and He Meixuan, he dared not provoke Chen Yufeng further, fearing an even worse beating. He forced himself to suppress his anger.
Too humiliating—he was mortified and quietly left, knowing he’d have to seek revenge someday.
Wu Weiming vowed to himself: One day, he’d make this man kneel and beg for mercy…