A flicker of solemnity passed through the short old man’s eyes.
Bai Touweng’s skills could easily place him in the top twenty of the Tiger List, yet he’d been obliterated by Ye Qiu with one punch.
“No wonder you became one of Dragon Gate’s four Dragon Envoys at such a young age—you’ve got some real ability,” the old man sneered.
What, he’s from Dragon Gate?
Huang Laoxie and Xiao Yu were taken aback.
“My abilities are vast. Killing you is as easy as squashing an ant. Don’t believe me? Give it a shot,” Ye Qiu taunted, beckoning the old man with a hooked finger, dripping with provocation.
The old man was sly, not taking the bait directly, instead barking at the Wushen Sect disciples, “What are you waiting for?”
“Wealth and rank are right in front of you—seize the day, or lose it forever.”
“If you’re scared you can’t take him alone, then all of you go together.”
“Kill him, and every one of you gets a hundred thousand bonus.”
“Whoever chops off his head, I’ll personally report to the sect leader for your elder promotion.”
“Cut off an arm, and I’ll reward ten million myself.”
Ye Qiu laughed, “You know these trash can’t touch me. Why don’t you step up?”
“Brothers, hear that? He’s calling you trash to your faces—can you take that?”
“Together!”
“Kill him!”
Roar!
Spurred by fury and the lure of rewards, the Wushen Sect disciples swarmed Ye Qiu like madmen, fearless, howling like beasts.
“Didn’t plan on sparing any of you anyway. Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll grant your wish,” Ye Qiu said, charging in.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The fight erupted into a chaotic melee.
Watching this, a glint of triumphant scheming flashed in the old man’s eyes.
He knew his men were no match for Ye Qiu; sending them in was just to drain Ye Qiu’s stamina.
You’re strong, but I’ve got numbers.
I’ll wear you down.
Once you’re exhausted, I’ll step in and torture you to death slowly.
That was his game plan.
But soon, his smirk stiffened.
One by one, his men fell into pools of blood, Ye Qiu a war god—fierce, unbeatable, unstoppable.
In less than five minutes, dozens of Wushen Sect disciples were wiped out.
A sudden chill of unease gripped the old man’s heart.
Huang Laoxie and Xiao Yu felt their blood run cold.
They’d roamed the martial world for years, seen ruthless killers, but never someone as swift and merciless as Ye Qiu.
Terrifying!
Sweat beaded on Huang Laoxie’s forehead, grateful he hadn’t fully crossed Ye Qiu outside the Qian family earlier, or he’d be dead like these disciples.
This young man, all smiles on the surface, turned into a devil when he fought.
“Now, your turn,” Ye Qiu said, hooking his finger again.
“Don’t get cocky. You’ve only killed trash. Against me, you’re a dead man,” the old man snapped, lunging at Ye Qiu as his last word fell.
Blinding speed.
But Ye Qiu was faster.
As the old man closed in, Ye Qiu’s fist shot out. Having seen Bai Touweng’s fate, the old man knew Ye Qiu’s strength and dodged aside, not daring to meet it head-on.
The moment his feet steadied, a shoe sole smashed into his face.
Crack!
He stumbled back a dozen steps, clutching his nose, blood staining his hand.
Ye Qiu’s kick had shattered his nasal bridge.
Looking down, blood dripped onto the floor, and in its reflection, he saw a size-42 footprint on his left cheek.
“Ah—”
The old man roared in rage, fists clenched, yearning to tear Ye Qiu to shreds.
“Bastard, you dare kick my face? I’ll kill you!”
He charged at Ye Qiu, murder in his eyes.
Ye Qiu stood still, calmly waiting.
Three meters out, the old man stopped, hands weaving rapid gestures before him.
Huang Laoxie’s face paled, shouting, “Watch out, he’s cursing you!”
No warning needed—Ye Qiu had seen the old man curse Huang Laoxie earlier from outside, clear as day.
Unperturbed, Ye Qiu stood there, grinning at the old man like he was watching a monkey perform tricks.
Ten seconds later.
“Fall!”
The old man pointed at Ye Qiu, a soft command, a sinister smirk curling his lips.
He expected Ye Qiu to drop in three seconds.
But time ticked by, thirty seconds passed, and Ye Qiu still stood, smiling back.
Something was wrong.
The old man’s fingers crisscrossed again, shifting swiftly, then pointed once more, “Fall!”
Ten seconds later.
Ye Qiu remained upright, unfazed.
“What the hell’s happening?”
Shock and fury churned in the old man. His curses always worked, but they failed on Ye Qiu.
“Keep trying?” Ye Qiu grinned. “Told you, my skills are vast.”
“Your curses might work on others, but they’re useless on me.”
With that, Ye Qiu stepped toward him.
Panic crept into the old man. His ace was the curse, yet it didn’t touch Ye Qiu.
“Hmph, even if I die today, I’ll take you with me,” he snarled, flinging his sleeve at Ye Qiu.
Whoosh!
Hundreds of poison needles burst from his sleeve, blanketing Ye Qiu, hitting him in an instant with a metallic clatter.
A strike!
The old man’s face lit up.
But the next second, terror overtook him.
“How… is this possible?”
The needles struck Ye Qiu and fell to the ground, his body an impenetrable wall.
As the old man reeled, Ye Qiu struck like lightning, a fist slamming into his cervical spine.
“Die!”
