What Was the Third Shot Besides Farting and Snoring?

Next came Yu Xiaogang's other soul skill!

Snoring!

The thunderous snoring sounded like someone being choked in their sleep.

Yu Xiaogang's soul skills were quite interesting.

One was farting, and one was snoring!

But there was one very strange question.

Yu Xiaogang's Martial Soul was called Luo Sanpao!

Farting and snoring added together only made two shots at most.

Where was the last shot?

On Liu Erlong's side?

Or was it Yu Xiaogang's mouth cannon?

But no matter what, yellow farts and terrifying snores!

They mixed together and bore down on Jiang Ming.

The customers at the tea stall had long since scattered in panic.

Those were soul masters!

Soul masters who could kill without being held responsible!

The noblest profession on the continent!

A few bolder customers hid in the corners and watched secretly.

But...

They were all covering their noses, their expressions somewhat twisted.

It stank!

And it was not merely a simple stink!

It was an aged stench mixed with rotting flesh, rotten eggs, and something resembling the sludge at the bottom of a swamp.

Jiang Ming stood in the middle of the street.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Not because he was afraid.

He was simply disgusted.

At the exact moment Yu Xiaogang unleashed his soul skill, silver light lit up around Jiang Ming.

The light was not dazzling, yet it carried an exceptionally sharp quality.

Then Jiang Ming vanished.

He had not been blasted away, nor had he been blown apart. His entire body had simply crossed to another location.

At the entrance of a cloth shop five meters away.

Jiang Ming reappeared.

Not a trace of the stench had touched him.

He stood on the steps of the cloth shop and looked at Yu Xiaogang. His expression could not be called angry, nor could it even be called impatient.

It was simply pure, undisguised disdain.

"Is this your Martial Soul?"

"Farting and snoring?"

Jiang Ming's voice was not loud, but the street was quiet, and everyone heard him clearly.

"You're courting death—"

Yu Xiaogang's face turned from ashen to purplish red.

Tang San reacted far faster than Yu Xiaogang.

At the instant Jiang Ming appeared at the cloth shop entrance, Tang San's right hand snapped forward.

Dozens of Blue Silver Grass vines burst from the ground, weaving into a dense net in midair as they descended upon Jiang Ming.

They were incredibly fast, their angles extremely tricky, nearly sealing off every direction in which he could evade.

Tang San struck with a killing move from the start.

But Jiang Ming did not even move.

He merely raised his right hand and lightly clenched his fingers in the air.

Silver light burst from his fingertips, turning into countless fine spatial cracks.

Those cracks were tiny, so tiny that they were almost invisible to the naked eye, but there were simply too many of them.

The Blue Silver Grass Tang San had released was silently severed the moment it touched those spatial cracks!

It was not deflected, nor was it knocked away. It was cut apart.

Cleanly and decisively.

Dozens of severed Blue Silver Grass vines drifted down from the air like blue rain.

Tang San's pupils suddenly contracted.

In his perception, the Blue Silver Grass had not been destroyed by brute force. Rather, the "space" in which it existed had been torn apart.

His Blue Silver Grass was still completely intact; only the small patch of space it occupied had been sliced into fragments.

This was...

Tang San had no time to think. His body instinctively flashed to the left.

He moved so fast that ordinary people could not even see his trajectory.

But Jiang Ming's attack was faster.

A silvery-white streak of light extended from Jiang Ming's fingertips like an invisible thread, tracing an arc through the air.

As that streak passed over Tang San's head, it severed several strands of his hair.

A few strands drifted down from above his head.

The cuts were perfectly neat.

If he had not shifted aside just now, that Space Tear would not have cut his hair, but his neck.

The moment Tang San landed, his right hand was already reaching for Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges at his waist.

But his hand froze in midair.

It was not that he did not dare move.

Rather, he sensed an extremely dangerous aura from Jiang Ming.

After cutting Tang San's hair, that Space Tear continued flying another five meters!

It left a slanted cut in the locust tree across from them.

The locust tree slowly tilted, then slowly fell to the ground.

Tang San looked up at the tree, then lowered his head to look at the few strands of hair by his feet.

His expression remained calm, but his eyelid twitched slightly.

That twitch was lingering fear.

Yu Xiaogang did not continue unleashing soul skills either.

It was not that he did not want to, but his Soul Power was nearly depleted.

The farting and snoring had ended, but the stench still lingered in the street.

It was still just as foul, though the wind was slowly carrying it away.

Yu Xiaogang stood where he was, his forehead covered in sweat.

Then he saw Jiang Ming move.

Silver light flashed again. Jiang Ming vanished from the entrance of the cloth shop and appeared behind Yu Xiaogang.

He moved so fast that Yu Xiaogang did not even have time to turn around.

Jiang Ming did not use Space Tear, nor did he use any offensive soul skill.

He merely extended one foot and cleanly kicked Yu Xiaogang behind the knee.

Yu Xiaogang pitched forward, his knees slamming heavily into the stone pavement.

His palm braced against the ground, but his center of gravity had completely collapsed. He sprawled onto the ground in an extremely miserable posture.

Face-first.

Jiang Ming did not step on him, press him down, or even touch him again.

He simply stood one step behind Yu Xiaogang, looking down at the man sprawled on the ground, a slight curve on his lips.

That curve could not quite be called mockery. More precisely...

It was the heartfelt "pleasure" of seeing a ridiculous performance.

"Look at yourself now."

"A useless piece of trash lying on the ground—what right do you have to call others mud?"

Jiang Ming spoke in a calm tone.

Yu Xiaogang's entire body trembled.

Not from pain, but from rage.

He wanted to get up, but intense pain shot from where he had been kicked behind the knee, leaving him unable to exert any strength.

So he could only remain sprawled there!

"Jiang Ming!!"

Tang San's voice came from the side, carrying obvious anger.

Jiang Ming tilted his head and glanced at him.

That glance was very calm.

There was no hostility, no provocation, not even the contempt he had shown Yu Xiaogang earlier.

It was simply a steady, composed glance.

Tang San's steps halted.

That was fear!

He understood what Jiang Ming's eyes conveyed.

You only lost a few strands of hair.

But if you take one more step forward, hair will not be the only thing you lose.

Jiang Ming withdrew his gaze, turned, and began walking.

Toward the northern part of the city.

His pace was neither fast nor slow, exactly the same as when he had entered the city.

As though nothing had happened.

"Stop! Stop right there!"

"You disrespectful wretch! Do you know who I am? I am Yu Xiaogang, an elder of Spirit Hall! I am—"

Yu Xiaogang's voice came from behind, sharp with near-hysterical rage.

It grew farther and farther away.

More and more indistinct.

But Jiang Ming did not look back.

He simply walked straight toward the north gate.