A dimly lit basement.
Andrew Han's right fist had just struck out, scattering the air with a piercing whistle—sharp and unmistakable.
As this blood-red fist, surging with fierce blood-energy, utterly crushed the Specter, it suddenly halted midair, not advancing even a fraction further.
This showcased Andrew Han's precise control over his force.
"Two Specters, two punches."
Andrew Han murmured as if sighing.
In the Martial Arts World, it is better to kill by mistake than to let a Specter escape. Just last month, it had taken dozens of Raging Downpour strikes for him to kill a typical Specter... Killing one with a single punch was simply impossible.
Yet now, that impossibility had become reality. Since I always convince people with virtue, I'll give you an accounting. (Andrew Han uses this phrase with irony, before delivering a slap.)
At this moment, Andrew Han couldn't help but feel the tremendous, ever-changing transformation—not only in strength, but also in mindset. He was no longer the naïve youth he once was.
Off to the side.
The flickering spotlight cast a dim glow, illuminating Max Ma's stunned face, the vacant expression of the boy clutching his legs, and the beautiful girl who kept her head bowed, only sobbing silently. In this world, once someone becomes a possessed host, the Specter controls their body and mind, and the original person is already gone.
......
"One punch?"
"Just—just one punch!?" Max Ma's eyes went wide, nearly popping out, his mouth agape as if he could swallow a whole duck egg, his face written with utter disbelief. In the Martial Arts World, when possession succeeds, the human is already dead, replaced by the Specter, which can spread possession by touch until its consciousness is exhausted.
So strong!? The third Specter must have transferred possession to another host!
Even the high-tier Martial Artists I’ve met would need at least three to five moves to kill a Specter with budding intelligence! When a Specter possesses someone, it loses its intangible nature. If the host dies, the Specter dies too.
Unbelievable!
Absurd! Ridiculous!
He couldn’t sense any trace of Internal Power from Andrew Han, which indirectly proved that Andrew was still only First Rank.
Terrifying.
It's too terrifying—how can a First Rank be this strong?
Max Ma felt his scalp tingle and his mind buzz, as if countless instruments were clamoring in his ears, chaotic and loud, disrupting his thoughts and fundamentally overturning his understanding of martial arts.
First Rank.
Was this really a First Rank?
He swallowed hard, unable to help stepping forward two paces, showing the most sincere smile, and couldn't help but exclaim, "You're incredible."
He wasn't pretending to flatter—there was no need.
In the Martial Arts World, among Martial Artists—Lower, Middle, or Upper Rank—all are treated as equals, with no distinction in status.
But Andrew Han simply gazed at Max Ma, his expression calm, saying nothing.
"What's wrong?"
Max Ma's heart trembled, and he couldn't help but ask.
Could it be—
This First Rank wanted to do something to him?
But he was just an ordinary Lower Martial Artist; what could be worth scheming for?
Suddenly—
Andrew Han let out a breath and said gently, "There were three Specters here."
Yes—
There were three Specters here.
But just now, only two had been killed. Where was the third?
Hearing this, Max Ma froze, then shivered violently, a chill spreading from deep within his heart all the way to the top of his head.