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"Stop!"

A furious shout exploded through the alley.

It rang out loud and clear, carrying a force that struck fear into people's hearts.

The noisy alley fell silent in an instant.

Everyone turned, following the sound with their eyes.

At the alley entrance, Lu Zhen was striding toward them.

His right leg, which had been lame for twelve years, was no longer lame at all.

His back, once habitually hunched, was now ramrod straight. He stood tall and erect, a full six feet in height.

Lately, he had been eating his fill of meat at the martial arts hall every day and training day and night.

His once-scrawny body had long since grown solid. His shoulders had broadened, and his arms had thickened. The black uniform that marked him as an Inner Sect disciple stretched taut over his well-built muscles.

It wasn't just his body that had changed. His entire bearing was different.

The Coachman who used to bow and scrape, his face etched with misery, was gone.

Now Lu Zhen's eyes were as cold as knives, and he walked with steady, forceful steps. From head to toe, he radiated the fierce presence of a true martial artist.

He came toward them one step at a time.

All the neighbors around him, from Auntie Fatty, who had been making snide remarks, to the idle gawkers, felt a chill creep over them when they met Lu Zhen's icy gaze.

The people around him instinctively scattered to either side, clearing a wide path for him.

No one dared even breathe too loudly.

Lu Zhen reached them and looked at He Gui and his men, then at the wooden door that was nearly smashed to pieces.

He could tell at a glance what they were up to.

If this had happened before—

Back when he was still a lowly laborer dragging around a lame leg, he might have avoided trouble like this.

In those days, he had no money and no power. He couldn't even protect his own younger sister. How could he dare provoke these thugs in broad daylight? At most, he had dared sneak out after dark, when no one was around, to bring Shen Yun a little food.

But now?

Lu Zhen stopped and stared coldly at He Gui.

His entire outlook had changed.

All his hard training, along with the fact that he had killed someone with his own hands, had shown him the true nature of this world.

This was a lawless age where people devoured one another.

There was no use appealing to the law or reason with these street thugs.

The more you avoided them and gave ground, the more they thought you were easy prey. They wished they could devour you, bones and all.

In this world, if you wanted to live like a human being and protect those around you, there was only one way.

You had to make your fists hard enough to frighten them—and hard enough to hurt them!

Now his leg had fully healed. He had become a true Inner Sect disciple of the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall. He had mastered formidable martial arts, and one of his hands alone could exert five hundred jin of force.

Now that he had the strength and the confidence to back it up—

What did he still have to fear?

As He Gui watched Lu Zhen approach, he couldn't help feeling a little uneasy.

But then he glanced back at the five or six burly men he had brought along, and his courage quickly returned. He had more men on his side. What was there to be afraid of?

Besides, He Gui had no idea what the black uniform Lu Zhen wore represented. He didn't understand the standing of an Inner Sect disciple. In his eyes, Lu Zhen was still that lame Coachman who had spent a little money to scrape by in the martial arts hall's Outer Sect.

"Well, if it isn't Cripple Lu!" He Gui raised the datewood club in his hand and shouted at Lu Zhen. "You think wearing black makes you somebody? I'm telling you, the He family is here to take possession of this house today! If you stick your nose in, I'll beat you right alongside them!"

The men behind him joined in, shouting, "That's right! Let's all get him! Break this punk!"

One of the men charged at the front, raised his club, and swung it hard at Lu Zhen's head.

Lu Zhen didn't even look at him. He raised his right hand and punched.

That was the force of the Mid Force Refining Realm. The strength of his entire body twisted together like a single rope, all five hundred jin of it concentrated in that one punch.

"Thud!"

His fist struck the man squarely in the chest.

There was a saying in National Martial Arts: "Strike a man as if hanging a painting."

The man didn't even have time to scream. He flew backward as if a maddened warhorse had slammed into him.

With a heavy thump, he crashed into the brick wall behind him. His body stuck to the wall for a full second before sliding limply to the ground like a painting.

His breastbone was completely shattered. Blood and froth poured from his mouth, and he lay motionless on the ground.

Everyone was stunned.

But Lu Zhen didn't stop. His body blurred, and he charged straight into the crowd.

He grabbed another man's arm and twisted hard.

"Crack!"

The sound of breaking bone rang out. The man's arm snapped cleanly, and pale shards of bone pierced through the flesh.

Then Lu Zhen sprang forward and kicked a third man in the shin.

"Crack!"

The man's lower leg bent the wrong way. He fell to the ground, clutching his broken leg and screaming as he writhed.

In the space of a few blinks, Lu Zhen had crippled three men with his bare hands.

He Gui and the men who remained were all scared out of their wits.

The wooden club in He Gui's hand clattered to the ground.

His legs went weak, and a sudden warmth spread through his trousers. He had wet himself in terror. His face was twisted with horror as he stared at Lu Zhen like he was the living King of Hell. Fear had seeped into his bones, leaving him without even the strength to turn and run.

Just then, a shrill whistle sounded from outside the alley.

"Whee—whee—!"

A patrol squad from the Republic-era police force rushed in. They carried batons in their hands and rifles slung over their shoulders. The squad leader at the front shouted, "What's going on? Nobody move!"

At the sight of the patrol, He Gui and the remaining men clung to them like drowning men grabbing at a lifeline.

They scrambled toward the officers, pointed at Lu Zhen, and shouted at the top of their lungs.

"Murder!"

"Help us, sir! He killed someone!"

"Arrest him!"

The patrol officers at the front had already drawn their iron-clad batons and were advancing aggressively to make an arrest. But when they saw the carnage on the ground, then looked up and took in Lu Zhen's clothes, they abruptly came to a halt.

"Wait..."

An older officer grabbed the rookie beside him and lowered his voice. His wary gaze fixed on the black uniform with its gold trim. "Take a good look. That's the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall's uniform! Black silk with gold trim—that means he's a true Inner Sect disciple! Don't go swinging your batons carelessly. If we provoke a martial artist like that, we'll be in over our heads!"

The officers exchanged glances. Their hands holding the batons began to tremble, and none of them dared take a step forward.

Just then, the sound of leather boots striking the ground came from behind the crowd.

"Make way!"

A patrol captain in a crisp uniform, a pistol holstered at his waist, pushed his way past his men and strode forward.

Lu Zhen's expression was calm. The fearsome killing intent radiating from him vanished in an instant.

He understood the rules of this world all too well. Fists gave you confidence, but if you wanted to get along on the streets, you also had to know how to handle things.

Before the captain could question him, Lu Zhen clasped his hands in a composed salute and immediately set the tone:

"Sir, you've arrived just in time."

"These hoodlums were carrying weapons in broad daylight, banding together to force their way into a private home and rob and assault its occupants. As a martial artist, I couldn't stand by and watch, so I stepped in. I was simply doing what was right."

"The situation was urgent, and fists and feet don't have eyes. These scoundrels were too frail to withstand my full-body power."

With that, Lu Zhen abruptly turned around. His eyes, sharp as cold stars, swept over the neighbors gathered on either side. His voice rose sharply.

"Neighbors, you all saw what happened just now. Isn't that exactly how it was?"

Every one of the neighbors was as shrewd as they came.

They looked at the man on the ground, his chest caved in and his life long gone, then at the thugs with broken arms and legs, screaming in agony. They understood perfectly well: Lu Zhen was a fierce tiger descending from the mountains. In this age, when human lives were as cheap as grass, killing a thug or two was nothing. Anyone who dared provoke him now was asking for death.

A moment earlier, Auntie Fatty had been making snide remarks. Now she changed her tune faster than a page turning and was the first to slap her thigh and shout:

"That's right, that's right! Sir, Master Lu's telling the truth! That bastard He Gui brought men to seize a widow's home, and even wanted to sell her! Master Lu was just standing up for what was right!"

Uncle Ma, who sold rotten vegetables, quickly chimed in. "That's right! They even smashed at the door with big clubs! If Master Lu hadn't had the kindness to step in, the Shen family girl would've been dead today!"

"Exactly! He Gui and his men are bandits! Master Lu's a good man!"

For a moment, the crowd was seething with outrage, and everyone turned their anger on He Gui, who had wet himself.