"I'll send you straight to the Eighteen Levels of Hell!"
The City God gathered Incense Power in his palm.
No sooner had he spoken than a plain, unadorned fist came straight at him.
With a thunderous boom, the punch sent him flying several yards backward.
The City God's face drained of color. A huge hole had opened in the arm he had hastily raised to shield himself.
Incense Power kept leaking out through the hole.
For a moment, the City God was bewildered.
In the past, the slightest effort on his part had left those unruly peasants either unconscious or outright dead.
Nourished by a comfortable life, he had already forgotten what it felt like to be hurt.
Li Ping'an shook his hand. He really is made of clay.
Before his opponent could react again.
His figure flashed, appearing above the City God.
He planted a foot on his head.
Then another punch came crashing down.
"Can't you just eat your meal properly?"
"Why do you have to flip the table?"
"Who spoiled you into picking up such rotten habits!"
"Didn't your mother teach you not to waste food?"
"I was going to deal with you after I finished eating. Why couldn't you behave yourself!"
"..."
Punch after punch fell, and soon a large crater appeared in the ground.
The City God let out a single wail at the very beginning, then made no further sound.
His body dissolved into a heap of dirt.
And so the City God who had lorded it over this little mountain village for decades met his end.
Dead silence reigned all around.
"...Run!!"
Someone shouted, and the terrified crowd scattered in a rush.
Only Old Man Jiang remained sitting there in a daze.
Li Ping'an calmly dusted himself off, found another table with meat