"You manipulated me!" Marcus Damon roared, swinging his fist into Zheng Fan's face.
Zheng Fan did not move. Marcus Damon felt as though he had punched an iron plate, while Zheng Fan's expression did not change in the slightest. He merely said calmly, "Think carefully about everything that has happened lately. Think it through."
"I, I..." Marcus Damon withdrew his fist and began recalling everything that had happened: all that meticulous planning, all that caution. But that was not how he normally acted.
"Why? Why would you let my fist hit your face? Can someone as strong as you really tolerate being provoked by someone weaker?" Marcus Damon began trying to think things through. Perhaps he could not plan every step as carefully as before, but he now understood that his actions needed to be backed by intelligence.
"Heh. For one thing, I can't fight right now, so no matter what you do, I can't attack you. For another, I have no need to respond to a weak person's provocation. Defeating you would gain me nothing. It would only take time away from my cultivation, however little." Zheng Fan sat quietly in his chair. Only then did Marcus Damon feel as though he were facing a mountain. Even the Foolish Old Man had thought of his endless generations of descendants before trying to move mountains, yet Marcus had charged straight in without hesitation. What an idiot.
"You haven't done anything wrong." Seeing Marcus Damon's dejection, Zheng Fan said, "The world is full of all kinds of crises. When one comes, someone always has to stand up, whether as a hero or a martyr. In truth, they don't want to stand up either, because they go into battle prepared to die. But you, Marcus Damon, go into battle believing you will