"When did my disciple ever become someone you could lecture?"
The shadowy figure slightly raised his muscular left arm, and in his palm was a black fist wrapped in a leather glove.
Then a bold, rough voice cursed without mercy.
The crowd's stunned gazes fell upon the shadowy figure...
A gleaming bald head shone brightly.
Below that bald head was the face of a middle-aged Uncle, brimming with rogueishness.
He was currently staring down the formidable Sickle with an exceptionally arrogant and domineering posture.
"Who the hell is this guy?"
That question arose in the minds of every onlooker at once.
But one group was an exception!
They were the students who truly understood Dingchuan's Combat Department.
Their stunned expressions far surpassed everyone else's.
"R-Ruan Xiongfeng!"
Meanwhile, it felt as though a hundred thousand Highland Yaks were stampeding through Young Master Zhang Tang's heart.
"Why is it him!?"
The more someone understood Ruan Xiongfeng's tyranny and strength, the more terrifying and unsolvable he seemed!
But why had he appeared so abruptly at this particular moment?
"Teacher..."
Mu Fan looked at that shiny back of the head, clear enough to reflect his own face.
That familiar presence and familiar cursing inexplicably warmed Mu Fan's heart. He spoke softly and respectfully.
Sickle's eerie green eyes stared fixedly at Ruan Xiongfeng.
The other man's palm was even bigger than his own. More unbelievably...
His fist seemed to have been cemented into a wall, unable to move in the slightest.
This bald man who had suddenly appeared possessed strength terrifying enough to inspire fear!
"Who... are... you?"
Sickle slowly spoke, his tone carrying inexplicable wariness and a fury buried even deeper.
Who the fuck do you think you are!
Sickle swore he would never forget those words for the rest of his life.
No