Am I a Kamen Rider or the real young master who was switched at birth?

Li Ming lowered his head and looked at his hands.

The gloves had extremely fine, dark red, vein-like patterns embedded in the knuckles, which gleamed with a cold, metallic luster under the moonlight.

He flipped his wrist, his five fingers slowly closing, and his knuckles made a slight clicking sound.

Power surged within his armor, a sensation like countless purple dragons swimming through his veins, awakening them with every heartbeat.

He raised his purplish-red compound eyes, his gaze passing over the rubble and landing on the two silent beasts that had just crawled out of the ruins.

The poisonous beast that he had swatted away with the tail of the Mist Dragon had emerged from the pile of rubble.

Its dark green scales were covered in dust and wood chips. It shook its flat head, and deep in its throat, it began to brew that viscous sulfuric acid energy again, with green fluorescence flickering in its throat pouch.

Another massive silent beast raised its two thick, pillar-like forelimbs and slammed them heavily into its chest.

It roared with its head raised, the sound waves bouncing back and forth in the yard, causing the leaves of the osmanthus tree to fall down in a rustling sound.

The burly Silent Beast launched the first attack.

It took a step forward, causing the whole house to shake, and then it raised its right forelimb and slammed it directly at Dawn.

Its arm muscles bulged in layers, bone spurs stood up, and the force of its punches sent splinters of wood flying everywhere behind it.

Dawn did not flash. He raised his left hand and caught the fist, which was bigger than his entire head.

The moment the fist and palm collided, a muffled bang was produced, and a visible shockwave exploded outwards from the point of contact.

Li Ming tilted his head slightly, and a wisp of extremely thin purplish-red smoke rose from his glove.

Fine, dark purple cracks began to appear on the fist that the silent beast had been gripping.

The cracks spread upwards along its knuckles, and with each inch the cracks extended, the silent beast let out a painful roar.

Li Ming smiled softly, his purplish-red compound eyes shimmering slightly in the moonlight.

Then he raised his right fist.

A purplish-red energy halo appeared on the matte black gloves, spreading along the knuckles to the knuckles and condensing into a leaping dark purple flame on the fist.

He threw a punch, leaving a purplish-red trail in the night sky, and landed precisely in the center of the silent beast's chest.

The moment the fist collided with the shell, a purplish-red shockwave exploded outwards, spreading from the point of impact and blowing all the branches of the osmanthus tree in the yard backwards.

The punch created a fist-sized dent in the chest shell of the burly Silent Beast, and purplish-red energy spread along the patterns throughout its body.

It let out a short, miserable scream, and its massive body was sent flying, finally crashing into the century-old tree in the yard, raising a cloud of grayish-white dust.

The other venomous beast seized the opportunity to open its mouth, the green glow deep in its throat already reaching its limit.

It suddenly shot out, and this time the sulfuric acid energy ball was larger than the previous one, with a diameter of nearly half a meter.

The sulfuric acid energy ball spun rapidly through the air toward dawn, hissing as the wood chips along its path were corroded by the sulfuric acid.

Li Ming tilted his head slightly, his purplish-red compound eyes locking onto the green orb of light that was flying towards him.

The next second, he vanished from the spot. Only a faint footprint and a few wisps of dissipating purplish-red mist remained where he had just stood.

The toxic beast was stunned. Its sulfuric acid energy ball hit empty air, corroding a pit the size of a washbasin in the ground, where the soil was still bubbling with green bubbles.

It turned its flat head from side to side, its dark yellow vertical pupils quickly scanning its surroundings, but there was no sign of the dark armored warrior anywhere.

Then a hand reached out from behind it and patted it on the shoulder.

The silent beast suddenly turned its head, meeting Li Ming's purplish-red compound eyes.

The silent beast opened its mouth to spew sulfuric acid again, but this time, Dawn did not give it the chance.

He lifted his right foot, his boot tracing a smooth arc in the air.

With a purplish-red energy ring on the back of his foot, he kicked straight down at the head of the silent beast.

The moment the boots made contact with the head, a ring of purplish-red energy burst forth at the point of impact, spreading outwards along the ground and blowing the scattered brick fragments into a hazy gray mist.

The silent beast was firmly stomped to the ground by this kick.

Its entire body was as if nailed to the ground, unable to move. Its eight legs frantically pried at the ground on both sides of its body, and its scales scraped against the broken bricks with a screeching sound, but it could not break free from under that combat boot no matter what it did.

Dawn looked down at the silent beast struggling desperately at his feet and stomped down harder.

Crimson energy poured into the Silent Beast's head from the bottom of its boots, and the crisp sound of its shell shattering was particularly clear in the quiet courtyard.

The Silent Beast's struggles grew weaker and weaker until finally all eight of its legs buckled, and it stopped moving completely.

Li Ming raised his head, his gaze passing over the ruins in the courtyard and looking into the distance.

The burly, silent beast, supporting itself against the tree, stood up again, its body trembling.

The fist marks on its chest were still emitting purplish-red smoke, but it was clearly much more resilient than the venomous beast.

It roared with its head raised, pounding its chest with its fists, making a muffled sound like drumming. Then it spread its arms, as if it were about to crush the dawn in its arms.

Li Ming twisted his neck, then rushed forward.

His speed was so fast that it was impossible for the naked eye to catch it. Lin Ying and Long Aotian only saw a purplish-black afterimage flashing left and right on the ground.

Each time Dawn appeared in a completely different position, sometimes directly in front of the Silent Beast, sometimes to its side, and sometimes behind it.

The trails of those purplish-red compound eyes left streaks of light in the air, making it look as if several dawns were moving at high speed around the Silent Beast at the same time.

The next second, Dawn appeared less than an arm's length in front of the Silent Beast.

He clenched his right fist, and a ball of purplish-red flame suddenly burst into flames on the surface of his fist.

He pulled his fist back less than half an inch before throwing a punch.

The fist pierced through the thickest part of the Silent Beast's chest, and then a burst of purplish-red energy flames emanated from its back.

After piercing through the massive body, the fist, still with considerable force, then pierced through the trunk of the century-old osmanthus tree behind it.

A fist-sized hole exploded in the center of the tree trunk, splinters flew everywhere, the whole tree shook several times, and osmanthus blossoms fell like rain.

Before the silent beast could even let out a scream, Dawn swiftly and cleanly withdrew her fist.

The dark purple bloodstains on his gloves flashed twice in the moonlight before being evaporated by the purplish-red energy.

The massive body of the silent beast fell straight backward, crashing to the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

The large hole in its chest, pierced by a punch, was still emitting purplish-red smoke, and the edges of its carapace were charred and curled up by the energy.

As dawn broke, his purplish-red compound eyes shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

Song Zhiming slumped on the steps at the entrance of the main house, his back against the crooked door frame, his dark gray robe covered with dust and sawdust.

The wrinkled face looked particularly pale in the dim light of the streetlamp.

His lips trembled uncontrollably, and his nailless hands gripped his sleeves tightly.

Long Aotian was still in the posture of reaching out to help his uncle, but his clear eyes were completely filled with the dark figure approaching from not far away.

Lin Ying was still holding up her phone, the camera following Li Ming's figure, while Lin Xingran's screams continued on the other side of the screen.

The area outside the courtyard wall was filled with residents watching the spectacle.

They whispered among themselves in twos and threes, with Zhou Dafu standing at the very front of the crowd.

His eyes were wide open, and there were still tea leaves stuck to the corners of his mouth from when he was drinking tea at home.

He looked at the corpses of the two silent beasts on the ground, then at the century-old osmanthus tree that had been pierced by a punch, and then at the dark-colored armored warrior standing in the center of the ruins. He opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

Just then, a commotion arose in the crowd.

A figure squeezed out from the back of the crowd, forcefully shoving aside the people blocking her way with her shoulder.

It was that woman; her hair was disheveled and draped over her shoulders, with a few stray strands stuck to her cheeks by sweat and tears.

Her eyes were even redder and more swollen than they had been under the big tree at the town entrance that afternoon, and the bruises under her eyes had turned black.

She held a hunting knife in her hand, the one Old Mo used to use when hunting in the Black Forest.

The handle was polished until it shone, and there were several deep and shallow nicks on the blade.

Her hand gripping the knife hilt trembled as she wildly slashed at the surroundings, each swing accompanied by a whooshing sound.

The tip of the knife drew chaotic arcs in the air, and the townspeople closest to her were so frightened that they retreated one after another, and Zhou Dafu almost tripped over it.

"Don't come any closer—no one is allowed to come any closer! All of you get away! Don't touch him—"

Then she turned to look at dawn.

The dark-colored armored warrior was standing in front of Dr. Song, his purplish-red compound eyes looking down at the old man who was slumped on the ground.

She screamed and charged toward dawn, gripping her hunting knife.

She rushed to dawn and swung her knife down.

The blade struck Dawn's breastplate, but didn't even leave a mark.

She slashed several more times, her fingers gripping the handle turning white from the excessive force, and the veins on the back of her hands bulging, but she refused to stop.

"Let him go! You can't take him away! My old Mexican man needs him to save his life—if you take him away, he won't be able to come back—he's still waiting for me—he said he would come back—"

Dawn stood there motionless.

He kept his head down, letting the woman's hunting knife strike his breastplate again and again.

The purplish-red compound eyes calmly looked at the woman in front of him who was on the verge of collapse.

Then he reached out and grabbed the blade of the hunting knife.

The glove made a very faint metallic scraping sound the moment it came into contact with the blade.

His fingers tightened slightly, then he snapped the blade in his hand.

The broken half of the blade fell to the ground and bounced, making a crisp sound.

The woman paused for a moment. She looked down at the half-broken hunting knife in her hand, then looked up at the armored warrior in front of her who could break the blade with one hand.

Then she raised the broken knife again and used the rough metal surface of the broken blade to continue stabbing at Dawn's chest.

Lin Ying quickly stepped forward, supporting the woman's shoulders from behind and pressing down on her still waving arm, pulling her back.

The woman struggled in her arms, desperately turning her head to look in Song Zhiming's direction.

"Let go—let go—I want to save my old Mexican—I want him home—he promised me—he never lies to me—he said he'd be back by dark—he always comes back—"

Li Ming looked down at the woman and remained silent for a moment. Then he said in a very soft voice, "Old Mo is not coming back."

The woman suddenly raised her head, looked at him with her bloodshot eyes, and her lips trembled violently.

"You're lying—Old Mo still remembers me. That night! It was that thug Chen Bing who came to harass me, grabbed my hair, and dragged me off the chair. Then Old Mo came out, he came out, he killed Chen Bing, he protected me. He still remembers me! He's still the Old Mo who would protect me!"

Lin Ying pulled the woman back, and as she was being pulled backward, the woman kept turning her head and shouting at Li Ming.

Her feet left two shallow marks on the broken brick floor.

"Old Mexican—get out of here! Don't let them find you—Old Mexican, get out of here!"

Li Ming watched Lin Ying lead the woman out of the courtyard, then turned around and looked at Song Zhiming, who was slumped on the steps, trembling all over.

Li Ming took a step forward, his boots making a slight crunching sound on the broken bricks.

"It all started because of you."

Song Zhiming looked up at him, his bloodshot old eyes slightly contracting under the gaze of his purplish-red compound eyes.

The shadow of dawn covered him, enveloping him in a dark purple hue.

"Now tell me—where is the Mexican?"