With a bang, the Iron Palm Gang's leader was flung several yards away. Every bone and organ in his body had been pulverized by the force carried in Shen Changchuan's palm strike.
His body rolled several times, before finally coming to rest flat on his back.
Blood streamed from all seven orifices. He was dead beyond doubt.
Deep bewilderment and disbelief
still lingered on his face.
Perhaps in that final moment before death, his heart had still been filled with an indescribable bitterness.
He had merely wanted to vent the anger and resentment that had built up over days of fruitless effort, so he casually threw out a palm strike.
It was no different from someone angrily smashing the teacup in their hand onto the ground to vent their emotions.
But who could have imagined
that this ordinary youth who lived among the mountains, this utterly unremarkable existence, this ant that should have been crushable with a casual pinch, would turn into a colossal elephant capable of casually stomping him to death in the blink of an eye?
That feeling
was like a teacup he had angrily tossed to the floor not only failing to shatter into pieces, but suddenly bouncing back up, swelling a hundred thousand times in size, then angrily smashing him into a puddle of flesh instead!
Such an utterly absurd thing
was surely beyond anything a normal person could imagine!
Yet, it had truly happened!
The teacup that had been meant to shatter at a casual toss had truly leapt up and smashed its owner until his head was bloody.
A peerless expert whose name resounded throughout the martial world had been blasted to death on the spot by a single palm strike from a mountain wildling youth deep in the wilderness, without the slightest ability