In response, Chen Ping merely rose slowly, walked up to Number 98, and reached out to lay his hand on his shoulder.
At the sight, Number 98 instinctively tried to pull away, while the four guards beside him instinctively moved to intervene. But in the next instant, they felt the terrifying aura of an ancient ferocious beast from a distant age descend upon them.
A savage, explosive monster's aura erupted from Chen Ping, carrying an indescribable sense that it wanted to smash all life to pieces. Everyone before him shuddered at once.
Within the aura emanating from Chen Ping, they sensed the presence of a pure predator. It radiated from him, yet did not belong to him. This fear of powerful predators, rooted in the very origins of humanity, made their bodies instinctively stiffen.
Perhaps in ancient times, freezing in place and playing dead under a terrifying predator's gaze might have improved their chances of survival. But what they faced now was not an actual predator-it was Chen Ping.
Thus, without the slightest effort, Chen Ping placed his hand on Number 98's shoulder and slowly pressed down.
What did it feel like to have a hydraulic press bear down on the point of your shoulder?
Number 98 now found out. The hand Chen Ping extended looked pale and delicate, but when it actually pressed down, it felt as though a small mountain were toppling onto him.
That single downward press forced a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. No matter how stubbornly he resisted, Chen Ping still forced him to bend at the waist.
Number 96, who had witnessed everything that had just happened, had only one thought at the sight: This is impossible!
How could this fellow with his center-parted hair and deft hands as soft-looking