Zhang Chulan left a trail of electric afterimages in the night.
He moved as swiftly as thunder-lightning-fast, for short.
He was too fast.
The Yang Seed churned wildly inside him. The vast vitality that did not belong to him surged through his meridians like lava, every heartbeat pumping even more violent power into his limbs and bones.
He felt as though he had taken Viagra and entered an unstoppable state.
Every cell was screaming, but the power they produced was enough to strike fear into anyone.
Seeing that dazzling electric afterimage charge toward him, Shen Chong's pupils contracted sharply.
So fast! I can't dodge!
Fortunately, his years of combat instincts were faster than conscious thought. His arms instantly crossed over his chest, forming a stance to disperse the impact in a fraction of a second.
This was an instinct honed through decades of deadly combat.
Had Zhang Chulan not surpassed him in raw strength at that moment, the battle would have ended long ago.
Zhang Chulan was still far too inexperienced, too green.
But the instant Zhang Chulan's fist came crashing down, Shen Chong knew he could not block it.
In the instant that thought crossed his mind, the fist struck his crossed forearms. His bones groaned under the unbearable strain, and his arms were forcibly broken. The fist continued unabated, slamming viciously into his chest.
Shen Chong felt as though a hundred-ton overloaded truck had smashed into his chest. His ribs creaked with a teeth-grating sound.
His entire body flew backward like a kite with its string cut.
He smashed through a wooden wall behind him, sending splinters flying, then through a second and a third.
Only after smashing through three partition walls in succession did his body finally stop, crashing heavily into the rubble. Blood sprayed from his