Their fists collided.
Dai Mubai cried out miserably as his tall body was sent flying, slamming into one of the hotel's pillars before crashing to the floor. Zhao Ming, meanwhile, remained rooted to the spot. Only the gust of wind created by the collision of their fists made his clothes flutter loudly.
Hearing the scream, the Twin Sisters gasped.
They closed their eyes, not daring to watch the bloody scene.
In their eyes, Zhao Ming had to be mangled beyond recognition, perhaps even on the verge of death.
"Is that all the strength you have, and you still dared to show off?" Zhao Ming said flatly, blowing the blood from his fist.
Zhao Ming's voice stunned the Twin Sisters. Could the one who had screamed just now not have been him, but Young Master Dai? Lowering the hands covering their eyes, they saw a shocking sight.
Young Master Dai was lying beside the thick pillar, clutching his stomach. Not far away was a pool of blood, and he appeared to be badly injured. Zhao Ming, on the other hand, stood with his hands behind his back, looking utterly calm.
They might not understand the affairs of Soul Masters, but they were not fools. It was obvious who was stronger. So Young Master Dai had been putting on an act in front of them all along, while the man before them was the real deal.
They admired strength, which was precisely why they had been willing to disregard their reputations and offer themselves to Young Master Dai. They had also hoped that the man they loved would be an unparalleled hero. But now? Was this the hero they had imagined? He could not even withstand a single move from someone else—could he still be called a hero?
Disappointment, regret, frustration—every sort