With a strange cry, Bai Ali's cheek twitched. He looked panicked, but his eyes betrayed foxlike cunning and a cold sneer. His body dropped sharply, sliding along the ground beneath Lian Youming. Not only did he evade the punch, but with a flick of all ten fingers, he made the four suspended pieces of Cicada Skin snap shut like a great net.
In the air, several fine, light threads rapidly tightened.
Bai Ali raised the threads and pulled, darting onto a corner post of the ring. Crouching there like a monkey, he tugged on the threads and watched the tightly netted Lian Youming with an ambiguous smile.
The Cicada Skin scattered into fragments, revealing threads wrapped around Lian Youming's upper body.
"Boy, I'll make you wish you could live and wish you could die..."
Having succeeded, Bai Ali was just about to laugh when he felt warmth in his nostrils. Drops of blood suddenly trickled down over his mouth-he had actually been injured by the wind of the punch. Lian Youming glanced at the threads wound around him. Unhurriedly, he turned his right wrist and raised it slightly, and something dropped from between his fingers.
Clack!
It was a button.
The smile froze on Bai Ali's face. He instinctively glanced at his collar, but Killing Intent soon took its place. He hauled with both arms, and the threads sliced across, tightening furiously.
It was Lian Youming's first encounter with such a method. He had no idea what these light yet tough threads were made of. Under their pull, his clothes began silently splitting apart, and even his Scabbard creaked and cracked.
It seemed that few people who could dominate a region were simple opponents. This trick alone would surely have made anyone else suffer badly, perhaps even costing them their