Can you block this punch that took billions of years of effort?

"Even so, if you are still determined to establish a relationship with me, then you can become my 'mount'."

It was hard to tell what kind of desire for domination the burning eyes expressed, but when they swept over Howard and the others, they all felt an extreme discomfort as if their skin was burning, and they wanted to leave the place immediately.

"call……"

Howard sighed deeply.

His face was covered with an indelible shadow, and his aura changed, becoming demonic and extremely aggressive like a dragon.

"Language is such a difficult thing. If you don't use it, the other party won't understand your intention. If you use it, it still won't work. In the end, you still have to rely on strong hands."

"Let's make a deal. If I beat you, you'll come with us."

"Do you want to drag me into the same quagmire of 'unfreedom' as you? No problem, come on, let me see to what extent the fangs and claws of the overlords of this era have degenerated."

Linga stretched out his foot to hook George, who had fainted on the ground, and took him aside. Then he hooked his palm at them, making an obvious provocative gesture.

"Don't be careless."

Howard said softly.

The four of them nodded silently.

The next moment, two sturdy men in suits and leather shoes suddenly rushed forward with an explosive power that would make most middle-aged people envious and crazy. They were like a mad lion and a mad tiger, with strong momentum and murderous intent.

Veins bulged on their faces, backs of hands and other exposed parts, their skin turned dark red, muscles bulged all over their bodies, and they swelled visibly, their buttons flew off, and their clothes were almost stretched to bursting.

Wherever he went, there was a pit with every step. The pedaling force was so explosive that if it was a human head, it would be crushed with one step.

This doesn't seem like the behavior of a normal human being at all!

The primitive man opened his eyes: 37. Get a haircut on the battlefield and go into battle lightly

"ghost".

It can also be called "liberation".

Normally, humans have "shackles" that limit their physical abilities to less than 30%. This is a safety measure taken by the brain to protect the body.

When encountering an unexpected crisis, there is a certain probability of breaking through the shackles and gaining more power.

But that is passive.

Not controlled by subjective will.

The human body cannot withstand this force for long.

However, through years of improvement, the Wu Clan has acquired a special physique that is capable of withstanding this force. Not only is their basic physical fitness far superior to that of ordinary people, they can even actively open the 'shackles' and take control of the remaining 70% of the force.

The most terrifying thing is not this, but that although the "ghost" has the value of being a trump card, the difficulty of using it in practice is about the same as normal combat skills.

To put it in an extreme way, it is a conventional method.

How much potential can be realized depends on the individual.

But as the main force of the conservative faction and Howard's confidant.

The liberation rates of the four of them were all above 80%, and the old man Bertrand even reached an astonishing 100%.

This lineup is really strong. With only four people, they are qualified to go to war with a small country and win easily!

If we take into account the strength of Edward Wu, I am afraid that the Zhengxi faction alone can rival the combined strength of the two major branches.

The first two people to take action were Richard Wu, the "Brilliant Ghost", and Michael Wu, the "Blood Ghost".

The former is a master who is hard to be defeated in the world of Jiu-Jitsu. Once touched by him, it is like being wrapped in flames. Every bone in the body will be twisted and shattered, as if turned into ashes.

The latter has a unique gift of grip strength, excellent eyesight, and extremely fast nerve reflexes, so he pursues high-efficiency killing. He trains a pair of extremely hard hands to act as the back of the knife, soaks a large amount of secret medicine, and deliberately hammers the nails to act as the blade, specializing in attacking the enemy's arteries, often causing the enemy to lose too much blood and fail miserably.

They also cooperated very well, and from their control of timing and distance, it could be seen that they had extraordinary combat experience.

but……

Useless.

Linga's expression was surprisingly calm, and his red pupils even showed a little sleepiness under the double-teaming.

At this moment, in his eyes, Richard and Michael who were running towards him turned into two moving pieces of meat. They looked extremely delicious. Just by inhaling, he seemed to swallow this deliciousness into his stomach. A large amount of blood rushed into his stomach, causing his brain to feel sleepy.

That is to say...

Just looking at it makes me full.

There is no need to enjoy it.

Because I already know the 'taste'.

If the brain thinks it is eaten, then it is eaten.

So when the other party rushed over, Linga yawned involuntarily, and then exhaled a breath, hitting Richard in the face, making him subconsciously close his eyes.

Michael chose to attack Linga's lower body. He jab with his front hand at the center of the chest ribs, and with his back hand, the five fingers formed into tiger claws. With his body shape and angle, he grabbed the male's external organs in a very covert way.

Sa!

Linga moved, and stretched out his hand like a catapult to grab Michael's right hand. He didn't care about his left jab, and then pulled him in front of him to block. Richard opened his eyes at this time, and reached out to grab him without seeing who it was.

The moment he touched the clothes, Richard felt the unique material of the clothes and had a bad feeling in his heart, knowing that he had caught the wrong person.

But it's too late to regret.

With his other hand, Linga pressed the back of Michael's head and smashed it hard on Richard's head. Both of them had bloody heads and concussions, but considering the physique of the Wu clan, this injury was nothing.

Michael put the five fingers of his left hand together and slashed at Linga's chest like a knife, but at this time, Linga had already grabbed Richard.

Repeat the old trick.

Use Richard as a shield.

With a "swish" sound, a big gash appeared on Richard's chest. The wound was extremely deep and blood spurted out. It was really extremely sharp.

Two living people, two masters of the "Wu clan", were actually used by Linga as puppets and were playing a game of fighting each other.

Angelo and Bertrand were stunned and couldn't help but wanted to take action, but were stopped by Howard.

Indeed.

It's no longer necessary.

The injured Richard was as angry as a wild beast. He grabbed Linga's arm and was about to perform judo, but Linga grabbed Michael's hand and wrapped it around his neck like a close lover, strangling him unconscious.

Michael resisted fiercely, but was no match for Linga's unreasonable strength. His limbs were twisted and he was entangled with Richard like a hemp rope, turning into a big ball of meat.

Linga lifted them up and hung them on the tree nearby, then pulled out Michael's nails. Michael did not faint from the pain of broken bones or tendons, but instead fainted from the severe pain and the inability to accept the reality of having his nails pulled out after decades of use.

Linga ignored him and still looked sleepy. He slowly broke off a branch, dug Michael's nails into it to fix it, and then... started combing his own hair.

Strictly speaking, it's not combing your hair.

Because the sharp nails may not cause any harm if they scratch the scalp, but they can cut the hair if they scratch it.

Linga is having his hair cut.

By touching with your fingers, you can imagine what you look like at the moment in your mind and control the length of each hair within the most ideal range with an error close to zero.

In just a few seconds, her hair went from shoulder-length to ear-length red hair that exposed her forehead.

"It's much more refreshing and makes people more energetic."

Linga turned his head and grinned at Howard and the other two who looked stunned.

"I have to say you are pretty good. These two are only slightly weaker than the policeman I first fought in Japan. Except for Howard, most of you are about the same as him, or maybe even stronger."

"I recognize you. You do have power comparable to that of a 'dinosaur'. In that case, I will treat you as I would a dinosaur hunter."

As he said this, he assumed a serious fighting stance for the first time since waking up.

The limbs are stretched out, and even the ten fingers are fully opened.

Like a cull.

It's like a hug.

The hair flutters slightly, moving automatically without wind.

His eyes shone like stars in the night, and his aura instantly reached its highest point.

The Wu Clan, which has a history of 5,000 years and makes its living by fighting, has not given up its research on technology even after the split, and has even developed many unique moves in order to perfectly display its extraordinary physical fitness.

It can be said that there is no skill in this world that they cannot handle.

Not to mention the simple "gesture".

However, this convention was broken.

And it happened right in front of Howard and the other two.

Although the door is wide open, it inexplicably gives people a feeling of omnipotence.

——It must be safe to hide behind him.

——It must be very powerless to stand in front of him.

This thought suddenly flashed through my mind for no reason.

Fighting techniques, martial arts, assassination techniques and other techniques created for actual combat, the theoretical knowledge alone could fill up countless libraries.

However, the posture of Linga cannot be described in words or recorded in writing.

At some point, they suddenly found that their bodies were also in a fighting stance, as if they were resonating with the linga.

Seeing this, Linga smiled.

"As expected, your so-called power...is essentially nothing more than 'wildness'. That's why it's worth being hunted."

Under the aura he exuded, Angelo and Bertrand were unable to utter a word. They were not even sure if they could exert their full strength.

It is hard to imagine that one day I would be able to feel my own insignificance so clearly.

Let Richard and Michael team up as vanguards, test the opponent's fighting style and movement habits, find out the flaws and exploit them...this idea is really ridiculous.

But this is not because they underestimated their opponents too much, but no matter how much they overestimated, they would eventually underestimate them and pay the price for it.

even so.

They still went on without hesitation!

He activated his "ghost", unleashing the demon within him, and attacked with a roar.

One left and one right.

Howard didn't just sit there and watch this time.

His wrist disappeared for a moment.

As if blending into one with the air, the powerful wrist strength, fist strength and finger strength turned into an unstoppable thread that slashed through the air!

Linga suddenly raised his hand and grabbed the void, catching the streak of light that was difficult to capture with the naked eye. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a machete with a rope tied to the end, and the other end of the rope was in Howard's hand.

Sa!

"Old Devil" - Bertrand lowered his body and rushed in front of Linga in a flash, then suddenly jumped up and hit Linga's wrist with his toes.

Linga felt his fingers go numb, and the blade slipped out of his hand and was pulled back.

At this time, Angelo punched repeatedly.

Linga felt a familiar breath from him.

It's medicine.

But it was too late to 'avoid' it.

Angelo's nickname "Plague Ghost" comes from the smell that he actively secretes from his body.

It's not a poison, it's a chemical virus.

It can make the opponent become weak and powerless without knowing it, as if he is sick, especially with the contact of fists and feet, the weakening trend will be significantly accelerated.

Linga kicked Angelo straight at him, and he didn't even try to dodge. His chest was kicked to pieces, all his ribs were broken, and even his internal organs were not spared. However, he still chose to hold on to Linga's feet tightly, and a mouthful of blood spurted out, staining the soles of his feet red.

At the same time, Bertrand attacked from behind, using the "power release" of martial arts boxing to hit Linga's spine as he wished.

But the heart of this nearly 100-year-old man was filled with despair.

The hardness transmitted from his fist made him think for a moment that he was hitting a reef that was dozens of meters high and had been beaten by waves all year round.