The 20th Chapter

The Long Fist is commonly known as Telephone Fist. It's a classical style where you open your stance and throw a punch forward from behind, directly at the opponent. It offers absolutely no concealment; it's like telling your opponent, "I'm going to hit you now," and even indicating where you'll hit them, before you even throw the punch. That's why it's called Telephone Fist. Under normal circumstances, in modern professional combat, it's basically impossible to land a hit with this move. However, aren't some people advancing with shields right now?

This punch landed on the Cowhide Shield, using the power of shock. With one punch, the wielder's hands went numb and stiff. The cowhide strap holding the shield snapped, and the man was sent flying backward—yet the shield remained in place, effectively blocking the attack. It didn't just block Bai Lang; more importantly, it blocked the path of the two knife-wielding fighters.

Bai Lang then slightly hunched his body, leaping out like a tiger. His hand formed a Tiger Claw, and he tore out with the momentum of his pounce. This was the true essence of the Tiger Form, integrating his entire spirit and energy into one, like a fierce tiger striking and tearing with its claws.

The professional fighter with the knife was unlucky. The terrain forced him to face Bai Lang alone during this pounce. Despite facing what seemed like a charging tiger, his instincts still made him raise his knife and thrust it forward, adopting a mutually destructive fighting style. The underground professional knife fighters in this area are quite honorable; they're all ruthless individuals.

It makes sense; life is hard. How can you succeed if you're not ruthless?

Due to the length of the blade combined with the arm, this knife strike was slightly longer than Bai Lang's reach. In terms of relative speed, he should have been the first to stab Bai Lang, and then Bai Lang's claw would have done... well, who knows what. That's how it should have been, but Bai Lang's Tiger Claw shifted into a palm strike. He slapped directly at the inside of the knife-wielder's arm. The force in his palm was immense. Amidst the sound of bone breaking, he sent the man's arm swinging outward.

The arm was twisted at an odd angle, completely ruined. Even the best orthopedic surgeon couldn't save it—it was also mangled. The Tiger Claw had raked across the arm, leaving four deep bloody gouges. The flesh was torn open, exposing bone.

The next moment, Bai Lang accelerated again, fully unleashing his Lightness Skill, Flight Over Grass. In a single step, he entered the knife fighter's center. Then, he threw his left fist forward. This Exploding Fist struck the fighter's chest cavity, sending him flying. As the fighter was propelled backward, he spewed blood and fragments of internal organs from his mouth. His chest was completely caved in; the bones inside must have turned his lungs and heart into mush. He slammed into the wall behind him, clearly beyond saving.

Then, using the rebound force from the punch, Bai Lang changed direction, arcing towards the other knife fighter. This time, he tucked his body and delivered a Side Kick with the momentum of his pounce. To the other fighter, it looked as if a tiger had pounced on his comrade, let out a roar, and then whipped its tail like a steel whip towards him.

He couldn't dodge. He saw a man-eating tiger, and its sheer presence slowed his reaction time by a beat. Bai Lang's leg was longer than his arm, so this Side Kick shattered his neck and the lower part of his skull. The force penetrated his body, caving in the front and blasting shattered bone and flesh outward from the back.

The man with the shield had just fallen on his backside, and before he could decide what to do, a claw clamped down on his face. "Don't make a sound. You have five seconds to tell me who sent you and where you were supposed to deliver the goods."

Bai Lang tightened his grip slightly, and the man immediately felt pressure. It was truly Tiger Claw Skill, capable of cracking concrete slabs like a tiger's claws. A human head was clearly in danger. The man's mind raced, and he quickly explained the situation, begging for mercy. "I knew it. Since you're cooperating, please just pass out. I won't kill you, hahaha."

Bai Lang's palm vibrated slightly, and the man collapsed onto the ground like a puddle of mud, vomiting. A concussion was no joke, but he wouldn't die. These three had come together, and whether they lived or died was purely a matter of luck. Bai Lang tidied up and, of course, fled immediately. The local police could handle the aftermath.

In China, this would be a major case. But in Thailand—and not in a major city like Bangkok or Chiang Mai—killing two underworld figures is hardly anything. Bai Lang, carrying his pack, took a local tricycle towards the place the lucky survivor had mentioned for the handover.

To avoid trouble and to intimidate those fools, Bai Lang decided to eliminate the leader responsible for this matter. One street away from the target, he got off the tricycle and walked around the area. "I can't waste time. By nightfall, they'll definitely know something went wrong—I suspect they have people even in the local police. It's better to be direct and climb in from the back to kill him."

No sooner said than done, Bai Lang went around to the back. With a hand on the wall, he reached the third floor. His internal energy surged, tightening his muscles, and he crashed through the window with a roar. The window had a security grate, but along with the wall, it collapsed. The security grate was naturally useless.

Bai Lang had already identified the people inside by ear as he ascended. So, he knew how many people were in the room. As he burst in, he first curled into a ball, minimizing his profile—these people likely had pistols and other weapons. There were six people in the room: one sitting in a chair, three on the sofa, and two standing. When the window and wall collapsed with a crash, only one person fumbled for a pistol; the others were stunned.

This was his chance.

His coiled body suddenly extended, just like a feline. With this stretch, Bai Lang closed in on the man with the gun. His Tiger Claw swept down. Without even a scream, the man's face, neck, and chest were torn open. His insides spilled out, and he knelt down dead without a sound—blood sprayed onto the ceiling from his torn neck.

Even the Tiger Form in Xingyi wasn't this ferocious, let alone Tiger Crane Twin Forms. Bai Lang's was the true essence of the Tiger Form amplified by internal energy; a real tiger would be no different. After killing one, Bai Lang lunged at the three stunned people on the sofa. With a sweeping Hand Blade and rapid Iron Fist strikes, he took their lives in the blink of an eye. Only then did the last standing man draw his gun, while the man in the chair had slid under it, trembling.