Can humans empathize with Specters?
No, they cannot.
This has been the answer for countless years, carved in fresh blood and sealed by endless sacrifice.
Some equations may need specific analysis, but on this matter, there can be no hesitation: to be human is to refuse pity for Demons and Specters.
Specters must be exterminated, Demons must be destroyed!
This is the universally recognized creed of the Martial Arts World.
Tap.
Tap.
Andrew Han's footsteps echoed in the dim night.
His voice was cold and ruthless, killing intent surging beneath every word: "You're still hiding—what's the point?"
As he spoke—Thud!
Andrew Han stomped down with his right foot, like a massive pillar crashing to earth. Using the force of the rebound, his figure shot forward dozens of meters, arriving in front of the dirt mound in the blink of an eye.
Whoosh!
His right arm was raised high in midair.
His entire arm seemed to swell, like a steel whip capable of shattering anything. As it slashed through the air, it roared with violent force. The whip-like strike landed on the dirt mound with lightning speed, instantly splitting the three-meter-high mound in two.
Boom!!
A wild, brutal blow split the mound in half.
Behind the mound crouched a General-class Specter, recently advanced. Its ghostly form shivered in terror—especially its semi-corporeal body, which was an extremely rare shade of pink.
Whimper, whimper.
"Help! Save me—whimper, whimper!"