You Actually Used Your Power on Me?

When a group of paranormal ability enthusiasts suddenly surrounded him, Li Ye did not show the slightest bit of panic.

In fact, ever since he had noticed that his coworkers had begun organizing group training sessions after lunch, he had expected this day to come.

Never mind blocking someone's path to wealth—even in the old society, groups like this that gathered people to practice martial arts were called "associations." They easily picked up a certain jianghu air, living by swift grudges and swift vengeance: if something displeased them, they fought.

Li Ye had called them a crooked path—wasn't that making enemies?

"Comrade Li Ye, right? We need to talk to you about something. Come, let's step aside and have a word."

The man leading the group that intercepted Li Ye was a brawny middle-aged man over six feet tall. The moment he came up, he tried to sling an arm around Li Ye's shoulders, like, "Good brother, I'll take you out for the full package," intending to drag Li Ye somewhere secluded.

Li Ye gave a cold laugh.

A strong person, if skilled at exploiting their physical advantage, could easily use this kind of bodily contact to put intense psychological pressure on an opponent.

Back in the day, his good brother Li Dayong had been particularly adept at this trick.

Whenever some blind little punk wanted to knock the stuffing out of the foolhardy Li Ye, Li Dayong would say, "Come, come, let's step aside and talk."

He would clamp the other person under a thick arm and half-drag, half-haul him somewhere secluded. By then, the other party would usually have lost their nerve. They would trade a few verbal jabs and go their separate ways, without needing to fight at all.

So why had Li Dayong's combat ability been