You Think You're Worthy of Using Quicklime Too? (Please Click and Bookmark)

The sudden turn of events sent a chill through everyone's hearts.

But the feeling did not last long. These people had always lived with their lives on the line.

After the initial commotion, they quickly calmed down.

"Were those two brats killed by you?"

Qing Long leaned forward slightly on the sofa, looking at Su Heng with a low voice.

"If you mean that blond-haired guy, then yes, I killed him."

Under the Template Fusion State, Su Heng's voice was hoarse and deep, and his body had grown much larger. He looked like an entirely different person, so there was no need to worry about being recognized.

Qing Long appeared calm, but the slight tremble of his fingers showed that he was nowhere near as composed as he looked.

Especially when Su Heng's golden eyes fixed on him—the pressure that seemed to stem from the very essence of life itself made him shudder, nearly losing his composure.

"My friend."

Qing Long pulled out a tissue and wiped the sweat from his face. "We don't necessarily have to be enemies. If you need those things, we still have plenty here."

"We can work together."

Qing Long raised his head, his eyes full of sincerity.

But Su Heng had lived two lives. How could he possibly believe the nonsense of someone like this? Besides...

"How could a true dragon keep company with ants?"

Su Heng laughed wantonly, but his tone was icy, his killing intent fully exposed. In those pupils, it was as though a giant serpent had raised its head high.

Smash!

The wineglass full of red wine was smashed heavily onto the floor.

"Take him out!" Qing Long no longer hesitated. In fact, before his words had even fallen, people on both sides had already moved.

The first to charge was a tall bald man. He casually grabbed a chair and swung it at Su Heng's head.

The others pulled out machetes, bats, daggers, and all sorts of weapons. These people had spent years in the underworld; the tools of their trade never left their sides.

They did not rush him all at once. Instead, they split into several groups and attacked from different directions.

Some of their angles were particularly vicious. They showed no restraint whatsoever. One look was enough to tell that they did this often and had taken more than a few lives.

"Courting death!"

A cold glint flashed through Su Heng's eyes. He stepped forward, then kicked out.

Though Balai Jab was a fist technique, its principles worked just as well when applied to the legs.

The strength of his back, waist, and thighs gathered into one point as he kicked at the bald man like a roaring mad dragon. He was so fast, and his power so fierce, that he left behind a black afterimage where he stood, accompanied by a howling gust of wind.

Bang!

Before the solid wood chair in the bald man's hand could come down, his entire body was sent flying high into the air.

His body exploded midair, his organs and bones twisted into a mess as they scattered all the way down like celestial maidens scattering flowers. The private room was filled with a thick stench of blood.

Two lackeys raised their machetes and were about to strike Su Heng from behind.

But upon seeing such a brutal and horrifying sight, they froze in place, unable to advance or retreat.

Su Heng, however, had no intention of giving them another chance.

He reached out, planting one huge hand on each of their heads, then slammed them viciously together.

Crack!

Like two overripe rotten watermelons smashed together, brain matter and blood streamed down their shoulders.

After casually disposing of the three men, Su Heng did not slow down. He stomped heavily, using the secret technique within Balai Jab. His speed erupted, and he shot forward like an arrow loosed from the bow.

Bang!

At that moment, a streak of fire flashed in the corner of his vision.

Su Heng's body came to a stop in place in a manner that nearly defied inertia. A bullet passed in front of him and sank into the wall with a puff.

It was the pockmarked young man in the corner. Somehow, he had produced a handgun.

He had wanted to ambush Su Heng while he was off guard.

What he had not expected was that Su Heng's reaction speed was unbelievably fast, allowing him to dodge with ease.

Without giving the pockmarked young man another chance to fire, Su Heng kicked the sofa beside him. Under the force of his immense strength, the huge, thick sofa flew like a cannonball and slammed toward the pockmarked young man.

Boom.

The sofa crashed into the corner and shattered into countless pieces of wood.

A stream of thick blood slowly seeped out from beneath the wrecked sofa.

"Die!"

While Su Heng's attention was drawn away, Li Hu finally made his move. He put on two pairs of sharp knuckle dusters, yet he did not hurry forward to engage Su Heng in close combat.

He, too, had been frightened by the power Su Heng had displayed just now.

This man was practically a tyrannosaur wearing human skin. Even as an Awakened One, Li Hu had no confidence whatsoever that he could surpass Su Heng in strength.

He raised a hand and threw a fist-sized white cloth bundle at Su Heng.

Su Heng frowned and was about to dodge sideways, but the thing exploded midair. Countless silvery-white particles hung in the air, carrying a pungent, corrosive smell while obscuring vision and muddling perception.

Li Hu tore open his black suit, his bones crackling sharply as he grinned viciously and walked toward Su Heng.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A relentless series of dull impacts erupted.

A moment later, Li Hu took half a step back and emerged from the area shrouded in white powder.

His thick palms were bright red. Even with knuckle dusters on, searing pain stabbed through all ten fingers.

"Well? Is he dealt with?"

Qing Long let out a breath, the tension leaving his muscles.

"Don't worry."

Li Hu tossed aside his knuckle dusters and sneered. "He took twenty-seven Tiger Hunt Fists from me. Even an immortal wouldn't be able to—"

Crack!

Before he could finish, a large hand reached out from the white mist and pressed down on Li Hu's head.

Li Hu's head spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees. He stared blankly at Qing Long from behind, his lips still faintly opening and closing, driven by his vigorous remaining life force, as though he had yet to realize that he was dead.

"You think you're worthy of using quicklime?"

Su Heng stepped out of the white mist. Beneath the collar torn apart by his muscles lay a dense layer of Golden Serpent Scales.

"Such feeble, insignificant strength. What a disappointment."

He walked toward Qing Long, who had collapsed onto the sofa.

Qing Long's face was no longer calm. He shouted, "You're looking for the things in those Forbidden Zones, right? Spare my life! I know channels that can get those things in large quantities!"

But Su Heng remained utterly unmoved. He placed a hand on Qing Long's head and twisted hard.

Crack!

Qing Long's head drooped from his shoulders, and the gun he had secretly been gripping fell to the floor.

Only then did the remaining two lackeys, faces full of terror, try to flee outside, but Su Heng caught up to them in an instant.

Each took a punch to the head.

There was no technique from a jab in that punch, only pure brute force. Yet half of the man's face was smashed apart, blood and mangled flesh spraying everywhere in an exceptionally gruesome scene.

The other had his throat blown apart by a punch, his head hanging from his neck at a bizarre angle, horrifying to behold.

Less than three minutes had passed from start to finish, yet Su Heng was already the only living person left in the private room.

With the trouble settled, Su Heng looked toward the safe in the corner of the room.

Even without the system's prompt, Su Heng could sense the presence of a great number of True Relics inside.

Thanks to Poor Lonely Island for the two monthly passes, and thanks to Benevolent Amaterasu for the one monthly pass. Wishing everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival and good health.