Feng Mu’s pupils contracted, his head tilted to avoid, right hand swept upwards.
Zhang Tong’s fist transford into a claw, arms embracing forward, five darkened fingers hooked towards Feng Mu’s head.
"Such quick movents, such brutal moves."
Feng Mu’s heart skipped a beat, the right hand intended to stab Zhang Tong’s neck imdiately changed direction, wrist blocking beside his ear.
He dared not compete in speed, in a life-or-death instant, he lacked the confidence, could only step back defensively.
Unbeknownst, one step back leads to continuous retreat; combat in Martial Arts requires not only skill but desperation. One wrong step could be the gulch between life and death.
"Hey!"
Zhang Tong’s eyes lit up, bursting with sharp brilliance, five fingers fiercely clawing. The fierce nails plunged into flesh like hot knives through butter, grasping directly onto the bone within.
The tendons and muscles of the wrist were gouged, the entire hand went numb montarily, losing grip of the dagger.
"Is this all you’re capable of?"
Zhang Tong, enraged, discovered the intruder’s depth, admittedly weaker than anticipated.
Not exactly weak; after all, cutting off his scalp with a single slash, even though it was a sneak attack, required considerable strength. However, the attacks were rigid, errors frequent, and the combat experience laughable.
Zhang Tong’s right hand gripped tightly, muscles in his arm swelling, seemingly ready to rip Feng Mu’s bones out of his flesh.
"Who gave you the courage to lock the door, afraid you have nowhere to escape?"
Zhang Tong sneered, reversing the grip on the dagger suspended in midair, the blade tip like a serpent’s forked tongue, thrusting straight towards Feng Mu’s heart.
"The essence of Martial Arts combat seems like the strong versus the weak, fast against slow. But in truth, it’s evil versus evil. In a head-on fight, the survivor isn’t necessarily the stronger or faster one, often the one more malicious."
"He is wicked, you are more wicked; he is mad, you are madder. You can kill him, and survive!"
In Martial Arts class, the coach’s savage roar re-entered Feng Mu’s mind at this mont. The incomprehensible aning then, now realized with his blood, breathing the death in the air.
Feng Mu suddenly understood, followed by a strong sense of trepidation.
His heart seed gripped by an invisible hand, skipping a beat; Feng Mu realized the fatal mistake he made.
That step, I shouldn’t have dodged. It seed like only one step, but in fact, it was stepping onto the edge of a cliff. Held by the wrist, only able to stand on the cliff edge, being beaten passively.
"Until beaten to death alive, am I going to be beaten to death?"
Great horror enveloped every cell at the brink of life and death. Feng Mu’s tongue rooted, throat knot stiff, terrible shock filled his black pupils.
Silence engulfed his ears, the world muted at this instant, leaving only his heart’s thumping, the pumped blood pressure made Feng Mu’s eyes ferocious, splitting fearso veins.
On the retina, the icon always pretending to be dead flickered with golden light.
[Frenzy Blood] was responding to the blood loss stimulation.
[Frenzy Blood]: When I bleed, I will enhance in full aspects.
"My wrist is bleeding profusely, ahhh, I’m so scared, I don’t want to die, ahhh!!!"
Feng Mu’s eyes were covered in a blood-like color, under the stimulus of blood loss, reason and cowardice turned into frenzy. He let out his first wicked roar upon entering the room.
Anger, bloodthirst, devouring anyone in sight.
Ripping sound!
The piercing sound like fabric being forcibly torn, the five fingers clamped on Feng Mu’s wrist, broke off accordingly.
Three fingers remained sticking, two dropped on the ground, bloody and grueso, horrifying to look at.
Zhang Tong didn’t even feel pain, stunned, he looked at the jagged broken fingers, shredded flesh and nerves trailing out.
"Not that I held his wrist, but he tore at my hand?"
Zhang Tong was shocked at Feng Mu’s strength, but there was no room for hesitation in life and death. The broken fingers triggered his entire vicious nature, advancing instead of retreating, twisting all his strength to thrust the knife.
"Die!"
"Die!"
The two ferocious roars overlapped, turning into a bizarre friction sound.
The dagger pierced the tense muscle, slipping into the rib cage, suddenly wedging in between, sparking a line of frictions with sparks.
Bone clashed hard against the blade, the already deford hilt couldn’t bear the weight, snapping in the middle.
The malice in Zhang Tong’s chest broke like the hilt, releasing his grip, allowing it to drop, eyes fixed on the small segnt of the blade embedded in the latter’s chest.
Wobbling, easily pulled out by Feng Mu, and promptly thrust back into Zhang Tong’s throat.
Black blood surged from Zhang Tong’s mouth, glaring at Feng Mu’s chest reflecting a tallic sheen from his ribs, as if wanting to ask sothing, but only exhaling a "haha" leaking sound from the throat.
Zhang Tong clutched his neck, falling back onto the ground, lying in a row next to Ma Wei’s "corpse."
After the death threat was lifted, the blood tint in Feng Mu’s eyes subsided so, but the pounding heartbeat still stirred endless murderous thoughts.
Feng Mu kicked Ma Wei’s "corpse," his hoarse voice bone-chilling: "If you’re awake, stop pretending, or you’ll just sleep forever."
The resonance of [Frenzy Blood] heightened Feng Mu’s five senses, he could hear Ma Wei’s fearful heartbeat.
Zhang Tong relying on his second-level Martial Artist physique wouldn’t die imdiately; he clutched his throat, glancing pallidly to the side.
"Ma Wei isn’t dead, just unconscious. The man didn’t use a knife when ambushing him, so he only drew the blade against . Was he here just to kill ?" Zhang Tong’s mind churned.
Ma Wei staggered to his feet, eting Zhang Tong’s complex gaze, exclaid nervously: "Brother Tong, I just woke up."
Having said that, Ma Wei hurriedly avoided Zhang Tong’s eyes, swallowing nervously, cautiously observing Feng Mu.
Ma Wei lied, he had been awake for a while, but watching the two engaged in a fierce struggle, dared not intervene; after all, with his Martial Arts being so weak, joining would only serve as a hindrance. Better to feign death on the ground.
Having thought Brother Tong could win, but ended up losing, can’t bla him, right?
Feng Mu sneered, not exposing him. He didn’t know how close their relationship was, but he thought, in life-and-death decisions, even the closest bond could be discarded.
Feng Mu coldly asked, "Is he your big brother?"
Ma Wei didn’t understand what Feng Mu ant, but the latter’s exposed eyes were terrifying, daring not to deceive, he answered sparingly: "Yes."
Retaliating against Zhang Tong brought imnse change in Feng Mu’s mindset, he no longer panicked, the villain’s aura no longer needed intentional disguising.
Feng Mu spoke in a low voice: "Want to die or live?"
Ma Wei hurriedly replied: "Live, I want to live."
"Good." Feng Mu, one-handed, pulled out a phone from his pocket, opened the cara, and ordered: "Kill him, you live."
"Ah?" Ma Wei was shocked and pale.
Zhang Tong shook his head frantically, gasping desperately, but without the strength to stand, his eyes filled with despair.
Feng Mu held the phone, lens aiming at Ma Wei, his calm voice like a Death God urging: "Hurry, if he expires, you accompany him."
Ma Wei understood Feng Mu’s aning, his expression struggled.
Feng Mu frowned, teasingly: "How much does he pay you monthly, you’re willing to die with him? Surely, gangsters don’t care for loyalty these days?"
In a past life, even in movies, gangs talked money.
In this life, in this crueler world, gangs talk loyalty?
Feng Mu didn’t believe, but he also understood that where everyone doubted, betrayal’s punishnt must be more ruthless, because only raw cruelty enforces gang rules.
"Fine, die together." Feng Mu sneered, the phone falling just a centiter.
Ma Wei’s face twisted, knees thudded onto the ground before Zhang Tong, sobbing: "Brother Tong, I’m sorry, don’t bla , I haven’t even achieved anything, I don’t want to die."
Crying, Ma Wei pried open Zhang Tong’s hand, gripped the blade, pulled it out, stabbed down, pulled out again, stabbed down again.
Zhang Tong’s eyes gradually lost color, his consciousness’s final monts weren’t mories of their childhood scavenging days, nor anything else, but the woman lying in the hospital two days ago.
At the ti, he stabbed her to death just like this!
"Co on, smile at the cara." Feng Mu felt no pity internally, for kindness to a beast is cruelty to others.
In the fra, a blood-stained Ma Wei displayed a twisted, manic smile...
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