Grandmaster

"Fuck! William, you pig-brained idiot!"

Peter nearly lost his mind when he clearly saw the RPG veer off course!

One was a seasoned hothead driving a Dodge Charger; the other was a slightly chubby Chinese teenager driving a beat-up truck.

One was a death-dealing demon that had crawled out of hell; the other was an honest-looking human.

Obviously, the former was more terrifying!

There was more than one RPG round, but they were expensive. William, were you paying for them?

More importantly, these things were hard to get!

Stark Industries' were insanely expensive, and there were too few on the market to buy at all. Hammer Industries' were more common and cheaper, but they were unstable. No one really dared use them—who knew when one might blow up in your face...

William, were you trying to get me killed so you could inherit my Facebook account?

Peter's thoughts raced.

The flaming-headed man chasing them was clearly not someone ordinary firearms could handle. They could not win in a fight; they could only find a way to escape and plan their revenge later.

Did he have to kneel and beg for mercy?

No!

Absolutely—never—beg—for—mercy!

"Strange, my ass is burning!"

Peter suddenly felt his back burning, his head burning, his entire body burning!

"I'm on fire?"

He jolted, and everything he had learned in elementary school about surviving a fire flooded into his mind.

He rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames on his body, but it was completely useless.

Hellfire could not be extinguished!

Peter was no longer panicking. He was in despair.

He scrambled to his feet, dropped to his knees with a thud, and smashed his head against the ground, unable to feel any pain at all. "Spare me! Spare me! I'll tell you who sent me! Please spare me...???"

He froze.

When he looked up, all he saw was the flaming-headed man's back.

A burning chain dragged along the ground, its end wrapped around his foot. The pain it brought was not to his body, but to his soul.

But now, he had completely forgotten the pain, just as the flaming-headed man had temporarily forgotten him.

They both witnessed a scene they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

The cheap suitcase lay on the ground. The slightly chubby teenager sighed, his face filled with melancholy.

His shoddy trench coat fluttered violently in a hot wind that had come from nowhere, and the hands tucked into his pockets suddenly rose.

Faded jeans wrapped around his long legs. He bent forward, bent his knees, spread them slightly apart, and shifted his weight onto the front of sneakers that cost less than twenty dollars, their heels lifting slightly.

The teenager's hands rose from below, seemingly slow but actually swift. In the blink of an eye, they reached chest level, and his entire aura changed instantly.

For a moment, Peter remembered the jaguar he had seen at Forest Park two years ago.

No, how could a jaguar possibly be as terrifying as him?

Farther away, inside the truck, Skye's heart pounded wildly. Her beautiful eyes stared fixedly at Old Wang, and in her mind appeared that starlit night three years ago, when the fifteen-year-old boy had taken down seven huge Black men in ten seconds.

At the time, she had stood at a corner less than fifty meters away. Having just escaped the encirclement of several street punks, she had seen that boy amid panic and despair—and in him, she had seen the courage and hope to survive.

"Watch closely!"

"Tiger Stance!"

The two short calls reached Skye's ears, and her entire body trembled.

Old Wang was explaining!

He was demonstrating for her through real combat!

Opportunities like this were rare. Her pale fingers tapped instinctively, switching from taking photos to recording video.

Robbie was even more focused than she was, and even more astonished.

At first, he had sensed no danger at all. He had not even looked at Old Wang twice, and the Spirit of Vengeance inside him had shown no reaction either. That meant the Chinese teenager before him was free of sin and did not need punishment.

Only now did he realize that this seemingly ordinary Chinese teenager exuded a heart-stopping aura through nothing more than a few simple movements.

In Robbie's burning eyes, what he saw was not an ordinary person who had just come of age, but a ferocious tiger—a Saber-toothed Tiger King that seemed to have stepped out of the Ice Age!

An even more direct sensation came from the Spirit of Vengeance.

That demon hidden deep within his body was watching too!

What was this?

Was it the mysterious kung fu of the mysterious East, or a power like his own that did not belong to this world?

Old Wang calmed his mind and regulated his breathing.

The reactions of the others had nothing to do with him.

With every raised hand and lifted foot, he instantly returned to the state he had been in while fighting in World of Warcraft. Those years spent fighting for Azeroth, and even more so for himself—ten years of accumulation and eighteen years of improvement—perfectly merged at this moment.

The hands led the elbows, the elbows led the waist, the waist led the legs, and the legs led the feet.

A faint emerald glow shimmered. It was True Qi circulating in a special manner.

His body spun into the air like a whirlwind, his left leg sweeping out. In an almost impossible instant, he struck the side of the rocket with pinpoint accuracy.

The warhead turned one hundred and eighty degrees, then flew back in the direction it had come from, cushioned and accelerated by the power of True Qi.

The Fifth Street Gang's truck a hundred meters away flew into the air, spun seven hundred and twenty degrees, and landed steadily. Leaking gasoline touched the flames, igniting despair and summoning death.

It exploded with a thunderous boom, dazzling as fireworks.

"Oh my God, how did he do that?"

"Such speed! Such incredible reaction speed!"

"Tiger Stance increases movement speed and the speed of True Qi circulation. Crane Neck Kick directly changes the rocket's direction, and the True Qi cushioning keeps it from exploding for the moment. Every movement was executed to perfection. Even though I've learned them all, I could never do that... Wang, you're so cool!"

Peter was stunned, Robbie was shocked, the Spirit of Vengeance stirred restlessly, and Skye's eyes sparkled.

Farther away, the exploding Fifth Street Gang truck took more than a dozen lives, leaving none behind!

Old Wang drifted gracefully to the ground, dusted off nonexistent dirt from his clothes, and let the hand behind his back tremble slightly.

His cultivation was still lacking, and his physical condition was completely inadequate. Showing off came at a price. Don't let anyone see it—he could not afford to show weakness.

He turned and winked at Skye. Then Old Wang suddenly raised a hand, and a long whip condensed from True Qi slithered like a snake. In less than a second, it reached Robbie, then curved away before the Spirit of Vengeance could erupt and wrapped around Peter behind him.

The whip abruptly recoiled. Peter cried out and flew toward Old Wang.

"He's mine!" Robbie shouted, striding forward with the chain dragging behind him.

The fire of vengeance blazed within him.

All sinners must be punished. That was the rule of the Spirit of Vengeance, and the contract between them. It had to be obeyed.

He wanted to kill every member of the Fifth Street Gang. It was not merely his own desire for revenge, but the demand of the Spirit of Vengeance. Even he could not control it.

More than a dozen Fifth Street Gang members were already dead, but he had not killed them.

The Spirit of Vengeance's revenge had to be carried out.

At least one had to die!

"Don't worry, I'm not interested in men."

Old Wang smiled. Amid Peter's terrified expression, he removed the necklace from his neck. Then, with a wave of his hand, the nearly two-hundred-pound brute flew backward.

Peter tried to raise his gun.

Crack!

A flaming foot stomped down hard, crushing Peter's right hand and pistol flat. The agonizing pain made him scream as if his heart were being torn apart.

The air filled with the tempting scent of roasted meat.

Peter screamed, but Robbie instead felt a sense of relief, along with the thrill of successful revenge. Even the Spirit of Vengeance seemed to have grown stronger.

That left him both excited and terrified.

"I've never killed anyone... I've never even killed a chicken..." Robbie muttered with his head lowered.

Is this really me?

How could I be so ruthless? Why wasn't I afraid of killing? How could I decide someone else's life and death on my own, judge someone else's sins?

The anger in his eyes dimmed slightly. Robbie suddenly felt as though he were sliding from the human world into hell. The process was irreversible. He was falling into the abyss.

As long as his little brother could live well, so what if he killed?

So what if he fell into the abyss?

"Stop standing around. The police will be here soon," Old Wang reminded him.

Robbie gave Old Wang a deep look, then dragged Peter into the car.

The Dodge Charger started up and vanished in the blink of an eye.

"We should get going too."

Old Wang turned around, carried the suitcase back to the truck, and patted Skye's stiff little face.

"Still not leaving? Waiting to have tea at the police station?"