An 'innate-level master' just called Ryan Ling his master—what kind of insane development is this?
Just what kind of background does Ryan Ling have? How badass is his true identity?
Right now, after everything bizarre that's happened around him, a lot of people are just staring at each other, frantically guessing inside. It's obvious that the shock Ryan's brought them is almost more than they can handle.
A few old-timers from the martial arts world are so worked up they're about to have heart attacks.
Bottom line: everyone is seriously hyped up inside.
"I'm fine. Go ask if he's fine." Ryan Ling's eyes were sharp as knives as he swept his gaze toward Frank Fan. Time to pay up—murder demands a life, debts must be repaid.
"Got it!" Frank Qin wasn't holding back anymore. He strode toward Frank Fan, his eyes suddenly glowing red, face twisted with rage—he looked just like a demon crawling out of hell, even flashing a wicked grin.
That scene made Frank Fan's scalp tingle—heck, his hair was practically standing on end. He couldn't even hold onto his gun, and he was backing away, bawling his eyes out.
"Monster!"
"Ghost!"
"Specter!"
......
The Fan Family's enforcer squad, who'd just sworn to protect Frank Fan to the death, scattered like birds and beasts in an instant. In just a few seconds, they'd all vanished, leaving Frank Fan alone as a sitting duck, legs shaking, staring around in terror, still stammering curses.
"You—you heartless bastards, can't you show a little loyalty? Hurry up and carry me outta here!"
Frank Fan wailed pitifully, but what greeted him was Frank Qin's iron zombie hand, which clamped right down on his neck with a loud smack.
"Master, how do you want to deal with this mutt? Should I just snap his neck?" Frank Qin had killed plenty before—one more wouldn't matter.
Hearing this 'monster' was about to kill him, Frank Fan nearly pissed himself, his whole face turning ashen.
Of course, killing someone in front of this many people was a no-go, but with all the evil this bastard had done, letting him off easy was not an option.
"Wasn't this scumbag planning to cripple my legs and gouge out my eyes? I'm not as vicious as him—I'll just cripple his third leg." Ryan Ling said coldly.
"What?!" Frank Fan had nearly fainted, but hearing 'third leg' snapped him wide awake. He started struggling instinctively, but with his skinny frame and busted leg, there was no way he'd break free. Ryan Ling reached for his crotch, fingers miming a nut-crushing gesture.
Frank Fan was bawling like a monkey, wishing he were dead.
But right then, a booming voice suddenly rang out: "Maniac, dare to touch my son and I'll take your life!"
Ryan Ling froze, instantly sensing a powerful gust behind him—clearly a top expert had arrived, and judging by the vibe, more than one.
A brutal palm strike slammed straight at Frank Qin. Even though Frank Qin looked human, he was still a zombie at heart, and his reaction speed was his weak point. Before he could even turn around, that fierce palm landed hard.
Everyone stared, eyes wide. The attacker was none other than Frank Fan's dad, Jackson Fan, head of the Fan Family. The guy was a martial arts prodigy, insanely strong—he'd mastered inner strength almost twenty years ago, and his Iron Palm was way scarier than anything the Iron Fist Sect could pull off. No one knew how high his martial arts level had reached, but his bulging temples made it clear: this dude was deep.
Facing a top-tier inner-strength master at full power, even an 'innate-level master' would probably get wrecked. Jackson Fan's palm wasn't just fierce—he was notorious for using all kinds of poisons. That's why folks called him 'Poison Palm Jackson Fan.' Take a hit from him, and even the toughest would be crippled if not dead.
That's the real reason the Fan Family has dominated Harbor City's martial world for years!
Watching Frank Qin take that palm head-on, everyone tensed up again. Frank Fan, who'd been on the brink, finally felt a glimmer of hope—maybe he'd be saved after all.
Around them, especially among Harbor City's martial artists, hearts practically shattered. 'Innate-level masters' are rare as hell, but taking that palm—even if he survived, he'd probably be crippled for life.
Jackson Fan pulled back his hand and gave a cold, sinister grin. That palm strike was spot-on, nailing several vital acupoints on Frank Qin's back. In this state, the guy would be down in less than thirty seconds—even an innate-level master would be on his knees begging for antidote.
As Jackson Fan finished his move, two burly, rough-faced middle-aged men swaggered through the crowd.
"Bro, that palm was brutal! Looks like another top-tier master is about to bite the dust at your hands!"
"Ha! Whoever dares mess with the Fan Family, no matter who they are, ends up dead!"
The newcomers were Jackson Fan's blood brothers, Tyson Fan and Leo Fan. Together, the three were called the 'Three Heroes of the Fan Family'—though insiders secretly called them the 'Three Fiends.' Compared to the stuff they've pulled, Frank Fan was small potatoes.
At this moment, the crowd that had been fired up just now all went silent. A few martial arts folks got a single glare from the Fan brothers and instantly shut up.
"What's wrong? Still holding out? If you can't take it, just collapse already. Even if you're a real innate-level master, getting wrecked by my heaven-defying palm isn't shameful!" Jackson Fan laughed loudly, clearly confident in his strike.
But before he finished bragging, Frank Qin suddenly moved—and did something weird. He scratched the spot where he'd been hit, then slowly turned around, his eyes a little vacant as he stared at the smug Jackson Fan.
That blank stare made Jackson Fan jolt like he'd been shocked. Normally, his Poison Palm left five black fingerprints instantly. He'd seen them appear on Frank Qin's back and was just starting to gloat, but now—he was dumbfounded. Frank Qin just scratched the itch, and the black marks faded and disappeared in seconds.
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What the heck? Jackson Fan had never seen anything like it—his eyes bulged. Tyson and Leo Fan were just as stunned. They knew how deadly their brother's Poison Palm was; heck, even trees hit by it would wither and die.
But now, a full minute or two had passed and this blank-faced guy hadn't shown any bad reaction at all—besides scratching an itch. It was like seeing a living ghost.
"Amazing, this is seriously amazing! This dude is definitely an innate-level master, no doubt. I bet he's strong enough to force out any poison from his body—it's terrifying!"
"I think he's even stronger than you imagine! He probably mastered some 'hundred poisons immunity' technique. Look at that upright posture, that fierce-yet-dumb look—he's got all the hallmarks of a top-tier master!"
"Totally! The Fan Family has run wild in Harbor City for years, especially with Jackson Fan using his despicable Poison Palm to cripple countless heroes. It's about time they paid the price!"
......
Right now, the martial arts crowd—especially the older ones—were hyped up again. A few female martial artists even whistled flirtatiously at Frank Qin, and he gave them a goofy grin and flashed a V-sign.
"Damn it, I don't believe you're really immune to all poisons! You think you can destroy the Fan Family? You're not qualified! Brothers, get him—take down this dumb-looking bastard!" Hearing everyone talk trash, Jackson Fan's face turned white with rage. The Fan Family hadn't ruled Harbor City for years just to get wiped out now.
In a flash, at Jackson Fan's shout, Tyson and Leo Fan leaped out. The three didn't waste words—they all whipped out knives and licked the blades, clearly meaning to hack Frank Qin to pieces.
But facing their shameless three-on-one assault, Frank Qin wasn't fazed at all. Instead, he cockily flipped them the bird—he looked so cool, he was basically the fighter jet of all zombies...