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"Stop!"

A furious roar exploded through the alleyway.

The voice was thunderous, carrying a power that shook the soul.

The noisy alley fell silent in an instant.

Everyone turned their heads, following the sound.

At the mouth of the alley, Lu Zhen was striding forward.

His right leg, which had been crippled for twelve years, showed no sign of a limp.

His back, once habitually hunched, was now held straight as an arrow. He stood tall, a full meter eighty in height.

In recent days, he had been eating meat to his heart's content at the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall and training day and night.

His once-frail frame had long since become sturdy. His shoulders had broadened, and his arms had thickened. The black uniform of an inner disciple was stretched taut by his solid muscles.

It wasn't just his body that had changed; his entire aura was completely different.

The cowering, bitter-faced carriage driver of the past was gone.

The current Lu Zhen had eyes as cold as blades, and his gait was steady and powerful. His entire being radiated the formidable aura unique to a true martial artist.

He walked forward, step by step.

The neighbors, whether it was the gossiping Auntie Pang or the idle loafers watching the show, felt their hearts tremble the moment they met Lu Zhen's icy gaze.

The crowd instinctively parted to both sides, carving out a wide path for him.

No one dared to even breathe loudly.

Lu Zhen reached the front, looked at He Gui and his gang, then glanced at the splintering wooden door.

He knew exactly what these people were doing at a single glance.

If it were the past.

He would still be that bottom-feeding laborer dragging a crippled leg, and he might have hidden from such a scene.

Because back then, he had no money and no power; he couldn't even protect his own sister, so how could he dare provoke these thugs in broad daylight? At most, he would only dare to sneak food to Shen Yun when it was dark and no one was around.

But now?

Lu Zhen stopped in his tracks, staring coldly at He Gui.

His mindset had undergone a complete transformation.

The grueling training of this period, combined with the fact that he had killed with his own hands, had allowed him to see this world for what it truly was.

This was a chaotic world that devoured the weak.

Reasoning with these hooligans about the law or morality was utterly useless.

The more you hide, the more you retreat, the more they think you are easy to bully, eager to strip you of everything you have.

In this world, if you want to live like a human being and protect those around you, there is only one path.

That is to train your fists until they are hard—hard enough to make them fear, hard enough to make them hurt!

Now, his leg was completely healed. He had become a true inner disciple of the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall. He had mastered a formidable martial art, and a single hand possessed five hundred catties of force.

Since he had the strength and the confidence.

Why should he hide?

He Gui felt a twinge of trepidation as he watched Lu Zhen approach.

But when he looked back at the five or six burly men he had brought, his courage surged again. He thought to himself, with so many people on his side, what was there to fear?

Moreover, He Gui had no idea what the black uniform Lu Zhen wore represented. He understood even less about the weight of an inner disciple. In his eyes, Lu Zhen was still just that crippled carriage driver who had wasted a bit of money playing around at the outer hall of the martial arts school.

"Yo, if it isn't Cripple Lu!" He Gui raised the jujube wood club in his hand, pointing it at Lu Zhen as he clamored, "You think you're someone just because you put on a black skin? Let me tell you, today is the He family's business of repossessing this house! If you dare to meddle, I'll beat you along with them!"

The men behind him also began to shout and holler: "That's right! Everyone together, let's cripple this kid!"

One man raised his club and charged to the front, swinging it down viciously toward Lu Zhen's head.

Lu Zhen didn't even look; he raised his right hand and threw a punch.

This was the power of the Lianli mid-stage. The strength of his entire body was twisted into a single rope, a massive force of five hundred catties concentrated entirely into this one strike.

"Bang!"

The fist landed solidly on the man's chest.

There is a saying in national martial arts: "Hitting a man is like hanging a painting."

The man didn't even have time to scream; he flew backward as if struck by a galloping stallion.

With a dull thud, he slammed heavily into the brick wall behind him. His body stuck to the wall for a full second before sliding down limply like a painting.

His sternum was shattered, blood foam bubbled from his mouth, and he lay on the ground, completely motionless.

Everyone was stunned into silence.

But Lu Zhen did not stop. His body flickered as he charged straight into the crowd.

He reached out, grabbed another man's arm, and twisted it with force.

"CRACK!"

The sound of snapping bone rang out. The arm was broken clean through, and jagged, ghastly white bone shards pierced through the skin and flesh.

Next, Lu Zhen launched a kick, striking the third man's lower leg.

"SNAP!"

The man's lower leg bent backward at an unnatural angle, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his broken limb while screaming and rolling in agony.

In the span of just a few blinks, Lu Zhen had crippled three men with his own hands.

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

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

His legs turned to jelly, and a warm, wet sensation spread through his crotch; he had actually pissed his pants in terror. His face was a mask of horror as he looked at Lu Zhen as if he were a living Yama. He felt a chill deep in his bones and lacked even the strength to turn and flee.

Just then, the sharp, urgent sound of a whistle echoed from outside the alley.

"Beep—beep—"

A squad of Republic-era police officers charged in. They held truncheons in their hands and rifles slung over their shoulders. The leading sergeant shouted, "What's going on here! Nobody move!"

The moment He Gui and the remaining thugs saw the police, they looked as if they had found a lifeline.

They scrambled toward the officers, pointing at Lu Zhen and screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Murder!"

"Officer, help! He's killing people!"

"Arrest him, quick!"

The officers at the front had already drawn their iron-reinforced truncheons, ready to make an arrest with aggressive momentum. But when their eyes swept over the gruesome scene on the ground and then landed on Lu Zhen's attire, their footsteps came to a screeching halt.

"Hiss... wait."

An older officer grabbed the rookie beside him, lowered his voice, and stared with apprehension at the black garment with gold trim on Lu Zhen: "Look closely, that's the uniform of the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall! Black silk with gold trim—that's an inner-sect true disciple! Don't act rashly. If we provoke a practitioner like this, we'll be the ones in deep trouble!"

The officers exchanged glances, their hands gripping their truncheons wavering; none dared to take another step forward.

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

"Move aside!"

A police captain in a crisp uniform, a sidearm holstered at his waist, pushed his subordinates aside and strode in.

Lu Zhen's expression remained calm, the intimidating aura of slaughter on his body vanishing in an instant.

He understood the rules of this world all too well. Having hard fists was the foundation, but to navigate the streets smoothly, one had to know how to handle affairs.

Before the captain could begin his interrogation, Lu Zhen cupped his fists in a polite, unyielding gesture and defined the situation immediately:

"Officer, you've come at the right time."

"These street thugs, in broad daylight, were brandishing weapons and gathering in a mob with the intent to force their way into a private residence to commit robbery and assault. As a martial artist, I could not stand by and watch, so I intervened to stop them. This was an act of righteous justice."

"However, the situation was critical and fists have no eyes. These scoundrels were simply too frail and could not withstand my internal force."

Having said this, Lu Zhen turned his head sharply. His eyes, sharp as cold stars, swept across the neighbors watching the spectacle, his voice rising suddenly:

"Neighbors, you all saw it clearly just now. Is what I, Lu, said not the truth?"

Which of these neighbors wasn't a shrewd soul?

They looked at the man on the ground with the collapsed chest, dead as a stone, and then at the thugs screaming with broken limbs. Their hearts were as clear as a mirror—Lu Zhen was a fierce tiger that had descended from the mountain. In this chaotic world where human life was as cheap as grass, beating a few local bullies to death was nothing! Anyone who dared to cross him now was simply courting death.

The plump auntie who had been making snide remarks just a moment ago changed her face faster than turning a page, and she was the first to slap her thigh and shout:

"That's right! Officer, every word Master Lu said is the truth! This bastard He Gui brought people here to seize a widow's house and even sell people off! Master Lu is acting out of chivalry!"

Uncle Ma, who sold rotten vegetables, quickly chimed in: "Exactly! They even used big wooden clubs to smash the door! If it weren't for Master Lu's kind heart and intervention, the Shen Family girl would be dead today!"

"That's right, He Gui and his lot are robbers! Master Lu is a good man!"

In an instant, the crowd was filled with righteous indignation, all pointing their fingers at the pants-wetting He Gui.