Boom! Splish-splash...
After a column of water exploded, Yangyan's silhouette quickly flew backward, skidding across the surface of the water. Each contact left behind a pool of blood, only stopping when he could hardly balance his figure, before spewing a large mouthful of fresh blood. Since joining the organization, Yangyan had never been as miserable or weak as he was today.
His qi seemed crushed, his speed and strength unable to compete. Even the secret martial art he had cultivated seemed to be overshadowed. What's even more absurd is his combat experience: appearing to be in his early twenties, Bai Kui's moves were incredibly experienced. He had his own streamlined structure.
With each punch thrown, it was like invasion and plunder, essence, qi, and spirit merged into one. Every action carried a certain domineering sense of boxing and spiritual will.
It's unmistakably a realm of a boxing master that could only be achieved after decades of practice.
