That street, dimly lit by yellow street lamps.
Who are you?
This shadow can actually speak?
Andrew Han's brows furrowed slightly. His right foot froze mid-air, uncertain and wary, but he still couldn't make out the true face of the shadow.
The dim light flickered, casting the shadow's form. It seemed humanoid, but Andrew Han, even with his keen senses, found it hard to see clearly in such poor lighting.
A moment later.
Andrew Han hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, his right fist raised high, like a raindrop suspended from the sky, crashing down in an instant!
He struck without regret or hesitation!
He struck with unwavering resolve!
The essence of Raging Downpour erupted in that instant!
Andrew Han lunged at the shadow, his right fist whistling through the air, striking the shadow hard: "Whatever you are, show your true face!"
Bang!!
This punch, imbued with the essence of technique, was as powerful as a speeding car, colliding with the shadow and smashing it back with unstoppable force.
Thud!
The shadow screamed again, sent flying two or three meters, crashing into a tree on the side of the road.
"What is this?"
"A technique? Is this a real technique??"
The shadow tore off its black mask, revealing a sallow face, and wailed, "We have no old grudges, no recent feud—who are you, and what do you want!"
At last, Andrew Han saw the shadow's true face.
Under the dim yellow light, the shadow turned out to be a middle-aged man dressed in black clothes, wearing a black mask and a cloth cap.
"Who are you?" Andrew Han said coldly. "Why were you lying on the tree?"
The middle-aged man, his face ashen, growled in frustration, "Does this road belong to you? If I want to lie on a branch, what does it have to do with you?"
With that,
He snorted coldly, clutching his arms, and stepped to the right, about to leave.
"Wait!"
Andrew Han stepped forward.
The middle-aged man questioned coldly, "What now? In broad daylight, what do you want to do?"
Thud.
Andrew Han followed with his left foot, closing in on the man. "You were sneaking around in the tree. If I hadn't knocked you down, who knows what you were up to? Besides, an ordinary person couldn't withstand my punches. What exactly are you?"
"Or perhaps—"
"Are you human, or one of those things?"
Pah!
The middle-aged man spat out bloody saliva and said coldly, "Well, well, so you also accepted the investigation task? Then there's nothing left to discuss. We'll rely on our own skills."
Andrew Han squinted his eyes. "I'm asking you—what are you?"
The middle-aged man, furious, laughed instead. "What am I? Don't you know in your heart? Don't think you can act recklessly just because you're a bit stronger!"
Thud!
Andrew Han stomped his right foot, making the street bricks tremble and loosen. He immediately followed up with a punch aimed at the middle-aged man.
This punch carried no special essence.
But the middle-aged man swung his arms forward like iron whips, with black mist swirling around them, strange and nameless, like gauze resisting force. He barely blocked Andrew Han's punch.
"Stop!"
"I am Lian Bu, a Grade One martial artist. During investigation tasks, attacks are forbidden. Do you intend to break the iron rule?"
The middle-aged man was furious, almost hysterical.
Black mist?
Andrew Han's eyes flashed. He took the opportunity to scan the surroundings and asked, "How do you prove it?"
The middle-aged man wiped the blood from his mouth and said coldly, "How do you want me to prove it? I'm not one of those things—what more do you need?"
His words carried a chill.
Andrew Han squinted, tilting his head slightly. "Oh? Then how do you prove you're human?" he asked lightly.
His emotions, however, were surging beneath the surface, like hidden currents under a tranquil lake, ready to erupt.
The black mist swirling around the man's arms resembled the demons and monsters from Andrew Han's past life memories, so no matter how the man explained, Andrew's suspicion remained.
"......"
The middle-aged man fell silent, his face twitching twice.
Gulp.
He vaguely sensed something was wrong. Could it be that this youth before him was a newcomer to the Martial Arts World, still unaware of the specifics about demons and ghosts?
So here was the problem.
How could he prove he was human?
"I—I really am human, not one of those things. But how do I prove it? You want me to prove it? I am human, ah!" the middle-aged man shouted, his face twisted in frustration.
"Can't prove it?"
Andrew Han sneered, stepping forward and striking out: "Then you'd better fall first, and we'll talk later!"
Bang bang bang!
Andrew Han unleashed three consecutive punches, like a leopard attacking, giving the man no chance to escape. The blows made the man's arms tremble and swell abnormally.
Collapse!
His heart was filled with collapse!
The middle-aged man wanted to cry but had no tears, trying to explain... He really was human, born without any certificate—how was he supposed to prove it? Couldn't this kid tell the difference himself?
"Run first!"
"You want me to prove something that can't be proven?"
With that thought, the middle-aged man feinted, black mist rising between his arms, like gauze, to absorb some of Andrew Han's force.
A cold light flashed in Andrew Han's eyes. Without any hesitation, he swung his right arm in a half-circle arc, the wind howling, aiming at the man's side to block his escape.
Bang bang bang!
Fists and feet collided fiercely.
The middle-aged man staggered backward again and again. The black mist between his arms grew thin, almost exhausted, and his face turned ashen. Was he really losing to this inexplicable youth?
The difference in strength was enormous.
Andrew Han's internal strength was deep and vast, like unbreakable steel.
The middle-aged man gritted his teeth, stabbing his left foot into the ground and scattering dirt and stones. His right foot slid half a meter, and he sprang toward the street like a rabbit, trying to escape.
"Take my punch!"
Andrew Han shouted inwardly. His center of gravity shifted, and with coordination between waist and legs, he shot forward like lightning.
Strike!
Andrew Han raised his right fist high, like a downpour crashing into the earth. His body rose slightly as he punched at the middle-aged man!
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"The wind—behind me!"
The middle-aged man sensed movement behind him. Heart pounding, he spun around, lowered his center of gravity, and tried to block the punch.
But this punch carried the essence of technique!
"Technique!"
The middle-aged man's face twisted in panic; he couldn't dodge at all. He watched helplessly as the punch shattered his arm defense, then a kick landed directly on his stomach—pain twisted through him, and his vision went black.
Thud.
Andrew Han's left foot shot out like a tiger from its cage, kicking the man's soft belly and sending him flying five or six meters before he crashed heavily onto the street.
Thump.
The middle-aged man lay stunned on the street, his head spinning and dazed.
"You!"
"You, you, you!"
The middle-aged man barely propped himself up, pointing at Andrew Han. His face was twisted with grief and anger, and tears trembled at the corners of his eyes.
Aggrieved!
He was stifled to the extreme!
"If you want to accuse me, what, what, what!"
He shouted, trembling, then his eyes rolled back.
His body had taken a beating, and the pent-up grief and frustration made him faint on the spot. His head hit the ground, bounced slightly, and finally settled on the asphalt.
"Huff."
Andrew Han took a few breaths, his eyes flickering with doubt.
Did I really hit the wrong person?
But—
Since this man couldn't prove he was human, and the black mist was suspicious, even if he was wrong, the responsibility wasn't his.
Thinking this, Andrew Han secretly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling much better. He couldn't help but reflect that reading self-cultivation books day and night truly paid off.
Books are the source of spiritual progress.
Hoo hoo.
The warm summer wind blew down the street, and the street lamps flickered now and then.
Unlike before, there was now a middle-aged man lying on the street. Andrew Han looked around, took out his phone, and sent a video invitation to Miles Ning: "Call Master, ask about the situation."
Soon.
The video connected.
Miles Ning's aged face appeared on the screen. "What is it?"
"Master, please look."
Andrew Han held up his phone, filming the scene and describing what had just happened in detail, eagerly awaiting his master's response.