"Maybe I was worrying too much... Zhou Kai is stronger than you, Old Yang. Dealing with your senior brother shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Feng Mingtai sent the message. The screen stayed lit. One minute, two minutes—dead silence.
Fischl clutched the hem of her clothes, nervously grinding her toe against the ground. She wanted to turn back and check the park.
But Yuan Duo waved a hand, looking as though everything was under control.
"Relax, relax. Don't you know what Master Zhou is capable of?"
Yang Hao's expression grew uglier and uglier. He hesitated for a moment, then suddenly turned his head. "No... Qiu Ping, he..."
"He's the Enhanced Human we were just talking about. First Level, maybe even second level."
"If he's second level, and he's coming for Zhou Kai, then that kid absolutely... absolutely has no chance of winning!"
Yang Hao pulled a pistol from his waist and clicked off the safety.
He told Fischl and the others to leave first. He was going back to take a look.
Yang Hao's gaze tightened as those bloody memories surged up uncontrollably.
"A True Force Martial Artist trains a foundational method into their bones, to the point of mastery, until the force within their body twists into a single rope. Punching, bench pressing... everything surpasses the limits of ordinary people."
"But second level Enhanced Humans... aside from perhaps lacking a little in technique, they completely crush ordinary True Force Martial Artists in every other aspect!"
"And Qiu Ping... just happened to be a lunatic who lacked no skill."
Yang Hao gripped the icy pistol tightly, turned without hesitation, and vanished back into the darkness of Camping Park.
Feng Mingtai instinctively wanted to call the police, only to discover that the distant skyline had already been dyed red and blue by