Courtyard House: Starting with handing over the keys, the state helps me abuse birds.

The encirclement has tightened.

Zhao Weize stood to the right front, less than two meters away from Xie Weihong. At that distance, he could rush over in one stride and punch the other in the face.

But he didn't move.

It wasn't because of hesitation, but because that young man was too composed.

He remained completely still from head to toe. His breathing was as steady as if he were asleep, and his eyes were not even focused on them, but rather on some distant void.

This composure wasn't feigned.

This is true, absolute confidence.

Zhao Weize glanced to his left. The square-faced veteran nodded slightly, then looked at the person opposite him. It was a silent signal—to take action.

There was no password, no greeting.

The twelve people moved almost simultaneously.

Zhao Weize slammed his right foot into the ground, propelling his body forward and throwing a punch straight at Xie Weihong's face. He held back seven-tenths of his strength in this punch, merely testing the waters. But the speed was already so fast that an ordinary person couldn't react at all.

His fist struck—the air.

Xie Weihong turned slightly to the side, just a slight movement, and Zhao Weize's fist grazed past his ear without even touching the hem of his clothes.

Zhao Weize's heart sank. He wanted to withdraw his fist and change his move, but it was too late.

A hand landed on his wrist.

With a gentle flick.

Zhao Weize felt an irresistible force carrying him forward, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward several steps, nearly falling over.

He turned around abruptly and saw the square-faced veteran being shoved on the shoulder by Xie Weihong, flying like a sandbag and crashing to the ground two meters away.

Then came the second and the third.

Xie Weihong moved through the crowd so fast that it was impossible to see him clearly. It was just the simplest pushing, pushing, pulling, and unloading, but every movement was just right, and everyone he touched was sent flying as if hit by a car.

Zhao Weize gritted his teeth and rushed back.

This time, he stopped testing the waters and went all out. He feinted with his right fist and swept his left leg across the ground—a combination he had practiced countless times in the army, a move that had defeated enemies countless times.

But he couldn't sweep his leg anymore after only sweeping halfway.

Xie Weihong had somehow gotten close to him, placing one hand on his thigh. With just a gentle press, Zhao Weize's sweeping leg was forced back to the ground, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the side.

Just before he fell to the ground, he saw Xie Weihong casually toss another comrade who rushed up at him away, as easily as throwing off a piece of clothing.

"Bang!"

Zhao Weize's back slammed onto the concrete ground, the impact sending shivers through his internal organs.

pain.

But it wasn't the kind of pain you get from an injury; it was just the pain of a simple impact, like when you fall down.

He tried to get up by pushing himself up from the ground, but saw that Xie Weihong was already standing three meters away, with eleven people lying around him.

From start to finish, it will last a maximum of fifteen seconds.

All twelve people collapsed.

Zhao Weize was stunned.

He forgot to get up and just lay there half-reclined on the ground, looking at the young man. The man wasn't even breathing, his face was expressionless, he just stood there, looking at them.

impossible.

The thought exploded in Zhao Weize's mind.

He had served in the army for five years, seen many capable fighters, and was quite capable himself. He knew there were people in the world who could take on several, even a dozen, at once, but that referred to ordinary people. Fighting highly trained elite soldiers like them? Two at most, he could manage.

But this young man in front of me took on twelve people by himself.

Fifteen seconds.

There were no fancy moves, just the simplest actions and the most basic power generation. Yet every movement was terrifyingly precise, and every burst of power was just right.

This is not a matter of technique.

This is……

Zhao Weize didn't know what this was.

He struggled to his feet. The square-faced veteran next to him also got up, his face showing the same disbelief. The lean, athletic runner clutched his sore arm, his eyes fixed on Xie Weihong. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of the dark-faced scout's mouth, but his gaze was even sharper.

The twelve people exchanged glances.

They both see the same thing in each other's eyes.

Shock.

and also……

Not satisfied.

Zhao Weize suddenly felt a fire burning in his chest.

He's never been one to admit defeat since he was a child. This intensified after he joined the army. The stronger the opponent, the more he wanted to defeat them. The more impossible something seemed, the more he wanted to try.

This young man is the strongest he has ever seen.

So?

So you're just going to admit defeat?

He took a deep breath and looked at the others. The square-faced veteran nodded to him. The lean, athletic runner clenched his fist. The dark-skinned scout had already assumed an attack stance.

No need to speak.

The twelve men lined up again.

This time, no one tested them. No one held back.

Zhao Weize stared intently at Xie Weihong, his feet moving slowly. They no longer rushed forward in a swarm, but instead dispersed, maintaining distance, and approached from all directions like a wolf pack hunting.

Xie Weihong glanced at them.

Zhao Weize swore he saw a hint of...approval in those eyes?

Then the young man moved.

This time, he made the first move.

Zhao Weize only saw a shadow flash by, then a sharp pain in his chest, and he was thrown into the air. He heard the wind whistling in his ears, saw the world spinning, and then...

"Bang!"

He fell to the ground again.

He struggled to lift his head and saw Xie Weihong standing in the center of the crowd, like a precise machine, "dealing with" those who rushed forward one by one. Every move was clean and efficient, every strike perfectly timed.

Just enough to knock someone down, just enough to avoid causing serious injury.

The square-faced veteran was the first to get up and charge forward again. He was the second to fall. He got up again and charged forward once more. When he fell for the third time, he finally collapsed to the ground, unable to get up, panting heavily, but with a smile on his face.

The lean, athletic runner was fast, trying to use his speed to bypass Xie Weihong's defense. But Xie Weihong was even faster, stopping him each time. When he was thrown to the ground for the fourth time, he finally couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Damn, is this even human?"

The dark-skinned scout was the toughest; he was knocked down six times, and got up six times. After falling for the sixth time, he lay on his back, looking up at the sky, and suddenly said, "It was worth it."

Zhao Weize didn't know how many times he had been knocked down.

All he knew was that every time he got up, his body ached. But that pain kept him awake, excited him, and made him want to continue.

The last time he got up, he found that there was no one standing next to him.

Eleven people were lying on the ground. Some were panting, some were laughing, and some simply closed their eyes, as if they were exhausted, or as if they were satisfied.

He was the only one standing there.

There's also Xie Weihong.

Xie Weihong stood three meters away, watching him.

Zhao Weize took a deep breath, clenched his fist, and charged forward.

He used every ounce of strength he had, employing every move he had ever learned in his life. He didn't care whether he could hit the target; all he cared about was charging forward.

Then he took flight.

The fall was quite hard; when his back hit the ground, everything went black. He lay on the ground, panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, every part of his body aching.

But he smiled.

"Awesome," he said, lying on the ground and looking up at the sky. "Fuck awesome."

A burst of laughter came from the side.

The lean, athletic runner laughed so hard he could barely breathe: "I thought I was the only one who got beaten up like a dog."

The dark-skinned scout said, "You've only done it four times, I've done it six times."

"So what if it's six times? I'm fast, I get up fast when I fall, what's wrong with that?"

The square-faced veteran lay on the ground, panting, and said, "Alright, stop arguing, or people will laugh at us."

But he was laughing too.

Zhao Weize turned his head and looked at the young man.

Xie Weihong remained standing in the same spot, without moving an inch from beginning to end. His breathing was even steady, and there wasn't a single drop of sweat on his forehead.

Twelve of the army's top soldiers, giving it their all, couldn't even make him break a sweat.

The difference...