My disciple, you are now invincible. Go down the mountain and wreak havoc on the world!

The shouts of battle shook the ceiling of the corridor, causing white ash to fall down in a flurry.

More than three hundred thugs crammed into half a floor, making it impossible to move. The machetes and steel pipes gleamed coldly in the pale light, and the safety of more than a dozen homemade guns was fully engaged, their dark muzzles firmly fixed to Ye Xunhuan's chest.

The thugs in the front row had already rushed three meters away, and the stench of sweat mixed with violence hit them in the face.

The elders from the collateral branch of the Su family huddled in the corner, wailing and howling, too afraid to even lift their heads.

Ye Zhong, accompanied by four bodyguards in black, stood in a fan shape in front of Ye Xunhuan, their backs taut like a fully drawn bow, their knuckles clenched until they turned white.

In his view, this was a hopeless situation where death was inevitable.

Even if the young master has some skill, he absolutely cannot withstand a Yellow-rank martial artist plus three hundred armed thugs.

"Young Master, we'll hold them off with everything we have, you take Miss Su and run towards the fire escape!"

Ye Zhong's voice was strained; he was prepared to fight to the death.

Su Qingyuan kept her eyes closed, her long eyelashes trembling violently, but her hand gripping Ye Xunhuan's clothes did not loosen.

She didn't say anything, but subconsciously shrank back behind him.

The expected gunshots and fighting did not come.

Instead, several sharp, whistling sounds rang out first.

"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—"

It was as fast as the flapping of a mosquito's wings, yet it carried a chilling force.

Then came a series of crisp "clanging" sounds.

The dozen or so armed thugs suddenly let out a scream in unison, each with a bloody gash on their wrists. They lost their grip on their homemade guns and smashed them onto the marble floor.

No one saw when Ye Xunhuan made his move.

By the time everyone realized what was happening, the plastic candy stick that Ye Xunhuan had been holding between his fingers had shattered into several pieces, leaving his fingertips empty.

He was still standing there, the remaining lollipop in his mouth, his cheeks twitching slightly, as if nothing had happened.

"With that kind of accuracy, you think you can handle a gun like others?"

The boy chuckled, but before he could finish speaking, his figure suddenly swayed.

Only a blurry afterimage remained in the spot!

In a corridor packed with over three hundred people, not a single person could even touch the hem of his clothes.

He strolled through the crowd in a few steps as if taking a leisurely walk, and stood in front of Zhou Hu in the blink of an eye.

Before Zhou Hu could even wipe the sneer off his face, a warm, large hand grabbed his neck.

The hand looked weak, and the fingertips still smelled of orange candy, but when it gripped his neck, it was like a cast iron clamp, impossible to break free from.

The next second, he was lifted up by the neck, his feet completely off the ground.

"Uh—uh—"

Zhou Hu's face turned a deep purplish-red, and he kicked and thrashed wildly, but he couldn't even touch the hem of the other person's clothes.

He looked at the young face with a roguish grin in front of him, and a fear he had never felt before rushed up his spine to the top of his head.

With his other hand, Ye Xunhuan casually reached out and caught a homemade gun that had just fallen into the air.

He twirled the gun in his hand and casually weighed it in his hand.

"You dare to use this piece of junk to scare people?"

He spoke in a light tone, then suddenly tightened his grip on his fingers.

"Click—"

A piercing sound of metal snapping rang out.

He actually managed to break that homemade gun, made entirely of steel, in half! The bullets in the chamber rolled onto the ground, clanging and clattering.

The shouts of battle from the entire arena abruptly ceased.

The thugs at the front stopped abruptly, several of them unable to stop in time and tumbling to the ground. Everyone stared wide-eyed at the two broken spears in Ye Xunhuan's hand, their minds blank.

Breaking a gun with bare hands?

Is this even a human being capable of?!

"How dare you, you brat!"

A furious shout rang out.

Master Zhang's face turned ashen, and he unleashed his mid-stage Yellow Rank power without reservation. The surrounding thugs were forced to retreat repeatedly by the pressure of his aura, unable to even stand steadily.

He stepped forward with his left foot, and the marble beneath his feet cracked open with spiderweb-like patterns. He charged forward like an arrow, his right fist carrying a whistling wind, heading straight for Ye Xunhuan's face.

This punch can shatter stone and split monuments!

The two thugs who were closest to the punch were sent flying backward by the force of the punch, crashing into the wall and spitting out blood.

"Young Master, be careful!" Ye Zhonghun was so frightened he almost flew away, and he shouted in a hoarse voice.

Su Qingyuan suddenly opened her eyes, her face instantly turning deathly pale, and she instinctively wanted to rush forward.

Everyone thought that Ye Xunhuan was doomed.

Even a body made of steel would be pierced through if it took the full force of a Yellow-Rank martial artist's punch head-on.

But Ye Xunhuan didn't even turn his head.

He casually tossed the two broken gun pieces on the ground, as if they were two pieces of scrap metal.

Only when Master Zhang's fist was only half a foot away from his face did he slowly raise his left hand and casually block it.

"Smack."

A soft sound.

That powerful punch, capable of piercing a wall, was easily and easily clenched in his palm.

Not moving.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

Master Zhang's eyes were wide open, almost bulging out of their sockets, all the muscles in his body were tense, and the internal energy in his dantian surged wildly to his fists, his face turning from red to purple.

But his fist was as if it were welded into ancient, cold iron; he couldn't even pull it back, let alone move it forward half an inch.

"Impossible...this is impossible..." Master Zhang's voice trembled, his face filled with disbelief. "How old are you? How could you possibly have such cultivation..."

Ye Xunhuan curled his lip, looking disgusted.

"Are Yellow-rank martial artists really that useless?"

"Is that all the skill you've got? You dare to roam the martial arts world and call yourself a master?"

"Tsk tsk, they're not even as good as the kids herding cattle on the mountain!"

"How boring!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he gently flipped his wrist.

"Click-clack—"

A series of cracking sounds, like bones dislocating, were so loud they made your teeth ache.

Master Zhang let out a piercing scream, but the scream was cut short as soon as it began.

Ye Xunhuan grabbed his arm and swung him around like a rag doll, making him spin countless times.

He was a Yellow-rank martial artist weighing 150-160 pounds, yet Ye Xunhuan swung him around so hard that the wind howled. The thugs around him were so frightened that they ran away with their heads in their hands, afraid of being smashed into mincemeat.

"Sigh! This is boring..." Ye Xunhuan casually tossed his hand away.

Master Zhang flew out horizontally, crashing heavily into the wall at the end of the corridor with a loud "boom".

The wall was smashed into a large crater, and he was embedded in it. His right arm was twisted into a pretzel at an odd angle, his head lolled to the side, and he passed out without even letting out a final groan of pain.

The entire corridor was deathly silent.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

More than three hundred thugs were dropping their machetes and steel pipes to the ground with a clang, but no one dared to bend down and pick them up.

They all opened their mouths wide, panting heavily, but didn't dare to utter a single fart.

That's Master Zhang!

The undisputed number one expert in the underground martial arts world of the provincial capital!

A Yellow-rank martial artist who has never been defeated in his 30-year career!

He couldn't even catch a single move.

Was he just thrown around like trash?

He fell to his death?