I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

The moment Luo Fei's palm touched the paper.

boom!!!

A dull bang echoed through the office.

The share transfer agreement instantly shattered into countless fragments, scattering in all directions.

But it wasn't just the paper that burst.

Beneath the paper was a large, solid wood desk.

It was specially commissioned by Ichiro Yamamoto. It is said to be made of top-grade oak and treated with a special process, making it extremely sturdy.

But at the moment.

Countless wood chips and plank fragments flew everywhere, and the entire desk collapsed with a crash, turning into a pile of chaotic ruins the moment it touched Luo Fei's palm.

The laptop on the table was jolted into the air, arced through the air, and then crashed heavily against the wall, shattering into pieces instantly, with fragments of the LCD screen scattering all over the floor.

The remaining documents, pen holders, and gold-framed photo frames were also not spared, scattered all over the ground and rolling everywhere. The glass of one of the photo frames was shattered, and the photo of Yamamoto Ichiro and his family inside was broken into pieces.

The smug smile that had been on Yamamoto Ichiro's face froze instantly. He sat there blankly, his body still in the posture of handing over the pen.

His mind went blank; all his calculations, arrogance, and pride were shattered by the deafening roar.

From investigating Luo Fei's background and being rejected on the phone, to arranging that car accident, and then to today's meticulously prepared negotiations—first applying pressure, then offering incentives, and finally forcing the other party to comply.

Every step was calculated precisely, and every expression was rehearsed repeatedly.

But he hadn't anticipated this one strike.

The pen he was about to hand to Luo Fei slipped from his trembling fingers.

With a snap.

The pen fell onto the scattered pieces of wood. The sound was actually very soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the office, which had suddenly fallen silent, like a thunderclap in his ears.

Yamamoto Ichiro slowly lowered his head, looking at the desk in front of him that had been reduced to ruins.

The scraps of paper and wood chips were scattered all over the ground.

The desk he personally selected, customized, and supervised the installation of was the one he and his secretary had used countless times. No matter how intense the movements or how tricky the angle, the desk remained perfectly still, without even the slightest tremor.

He knew better than anyone how sturdy that table was.

But now, it has been smashed to pieces by someone's palm.

Yamamoto Ichiro suddenly raised his head and looked at Luo Fei with a look of horror.

This seemingly ordinary young man stood before the ruins, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, his face expressionless, as calm as if he had just smashed not a solid wooden desk, but a piece of soft tofu that would crumble at the slightest touch.

His throat bobbed involuntarily, as if he wanted to say something, but his lips trembled and he couldn't utter a single word.

Only one thought occupied his mind: He's no ordinary person! All those seemingly unremarkable statistics about Luo Fei in the documents are fake!

This person is someone he can't afford to mess with!

If he finds out about the car accident he orchestrated.

Yamamoto Ichiro's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

If that palm strike were to land on me...

Wouldn't he be covered in bruises?

No, it might be even worse. It might end up like this table, smashed into pieces, with nothing left intact!

The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became, and his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, making a soft clicking sound.

Meanwhile, outside the office door...

The secretary was sitting behind her desk processing documents when she suddenly felt a slight vibration on the floor beneath her feet, as if a heavy object had fallen to the ground.

She looked up in confusion at the tightly closed office door. The door was incredibly soundproof; not a single sound could escape from inside.

She recalled that when the office was being renovated, Yamamoto Ichiro specifically instructed that the best soundproofing materials be used. The walls were filled with five layers of soundproofing cotton, the doors were custom-made thickened soundproof doors, and even the windows were double-glazed and soundproof.

They said it was for work purposes and that the privacy of the conversation needed to be guaranteed.

As for the real reason, she knew it perfectly well.

She smiled and continued looking down at her computer, completely unaware of what was happening in the office.

in the office.

Luo Fei strode calmly across the ruins, step by step walking toward Yamamoto Ichiro, who was slumped in a chair.

His footsteps crunched softly on the wood chips and glass shards.

Ichiro Yamamoto sat stiffly in the chair.

He wanted to stand up, to run away, to shout for the bodyguards outside to come in, but his body wouldn't obey him at all.

My legs felt like they were weighed down with lead; I couldn't even lift my feet, let alone stand up.

He could only watch helplessly as the young man approached step by step, each step feeling like it was stepping on his heartbeat, making his breathing more and more rapid.

Luo Fei walked up to him and stopped.

She looked down at him.

Yamamoto Ichiro tilted his head back and met those eyes.

Those eyes revealed a chilling coldness.

Luo Fei raised his hand.

Yamamoto Ichiro's pupils constricted sharply, and his heart nearly leaped out of his chest! It's coming! That palm strike is coming! He instinctively tried to dodge, but his body felt like it was tied to a chair, unable to move.

In despair, he could only close his eyes abruptly, awaiting death.

Snapped! ! !

A resounding slap.

Luo Fei controlled his strength.

Yamamoto Ichiro suddenly fell to one side, causing the chair beneath him to overturn to the ground.

With a loud bang, he crashed heavily to the floor, letting out a muffled groan of pain.

He opened his mouth, trying to cough, but what came out was a mouthful of blood and a few teeth mixed in with the blood.

Yamamoto Ichiro lay on the ground, his vision blurred and his ears ringing.

Half of my face was swollen and burning with pain.

My mouth was filled with the taste of blood.

He struggled to get up, but his body was as limp as a lump of mud.

He could only lie on the ground, panting heavily.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Luo Fei walking towards me.

His eyes were filled with fear, his mouth was open as if he wanted to scream, but he could only let out muffled whimpers.

Luo Fei walked up to him, bent down, grabbed his collar with his right hand, and easily lifted him off the ground like a dead dog.

Yamamoto Ichiro's feet were off the ground, dangling in mid-air.

Fresh blood flowed down the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the ground.

His face was so swollen it was unrecognizable, and his eyes were narrowed to slits, through which endless fear shone.

Luo Fei looked at him.

The voice was icy.

"I told you I would come to find you."

Yamamoto Ichiro trembled violently.

He wanted to speak, to beg for mercy, to explain.

But his mouth is lisp, so he can't explain himself clearly at all.

"Waaah..."

Luo Fei ignored him.

He picked up Yamamoto Ichiro and turned to walk towards the floor-to-ceiling window.

That huge floor-to-ceiling window took up the entire wall.

The tempered glass produced in China is a three-layer composite with a thickness of over five centimeters.

It is said to be able to withstand a Category 12 typhoon.

Luo Fei walked to the window.

Raise your left hand.

Gently tap it on the glass.

The instant your palm touches the glass.

boom!

The entire glass wall shattered instantly.

Countless fragments flew out of the window, scattering in the air, shimmering like a crystal rain.

A fierce wind howled in, blowing documents flying everywhere and making Yamamoto Ichiro's hair dance wildly.

Luo Fei held Yamamoto Ichiro in his right hand and stretched him out of the window.

Ichiro Yamamoto's body was suspended dozens of stories in the air.

Beneath my feet, the streets are bustling with activity, and pedestrians and vehicles are as small as ants.

Yamamoto Ichiro glanced down.

Then his body began to tremble violently.

A warm liquid flowed from his crotch and dripped down his trouser leg.

He opened his mouth, trying to shout, but no sound came out.

It could only struggle desperately, like a fish that had been fished out of the water.

Luo Fei's arm remained motionless, his gaze calmly fixed on him.

Ichiro Yamamoto has finally regained his voice.

"Mr. Luo, it's all a misunderstanding..."

His voice was muffled and slurred, each word filled with fear.

"It wasn't me!"

"It was Masao Yamamoto! The president ordered me to do it!"

"Mr. Luo, I was forced into this! I'm just an employee! I have to do whatever the boss tells me to do! If I don't, he won't let me and my family off the hook! My daughter is only five years old!"

"Mr. Luo! Please! Let me go! I'll never do it again! If you let me go, I promise I'll never set foot in China again!"

He spoke while crying.

Tears and snot streamed down his face, mixing with blood and smearing it all over his face, making him look utterly pathetic.

Luo Fei simply looked at him.

"Masao Yamamoto?"

He repeated the name aloud.

Yamamoto Ichiro, as if grasping at a last straw, nodded frantically, his remaining teeth chattering loudly.

"Yes, yes, yes! Masao Yamamoto! Our headquarters president! He's the one who gives all the orders!"

"The car accident was something he asked me to arrange; I really had no choice."

"Please, please let me go. I promise I'll never do it again..."

Luo Fei didn't let him finish speaking.