Peerless Bodyguard of a Stunning Beauty Chapter 91 - 78: No Use Fighting, It’s a Waste Even If You D

With that, Zhao Rong had the waiter lead him and Fatty to a prominent, eye-catching table.

Unlike the frail, shorter disciples of the True Martial Sect, the Wild Wolf Sect’s mbers were generally sturdy and tall, making the two groups easy to tell apart. As soon as Zhao Rong and Fatty sat in a section known to belong to the Wild Wolf Sect, they imdiately drew the other sect’s attention.

Sitting beside Zhao Rong, Fatty said in terror, "Sect Leader, a wise man knows better than to court disaster. Let’s find another spot."

Nearby, so True Martial Sect disciples also offered a well-intentioned warning. "Hey, that place belongs to the Wild Wolf Sect! Don’t provoke them, or the consequences will be unimaginable."

Ignoring the warnings, Zhao Rong said nonchalantly, "I ca here today specifically to let this bunch from the Wild Wolf Sect know that we of the True Martial Sect are not to be trifled with."

Before Zhao Rong could finish his sentence, two brawny n, both over six feet two inches tall and weighing more than 275 pounds, strode over. A physique like that was typical for mbers of the Wild Wolf Sect. The long-haired disciple in the lead looked down at the wiry Zhao Rong and asked, "Kid, are you from the True Martial Sect?"

Zhao Rong nodded. "Yes, we are."

Hearing this, the bald disciple behind him roared at Zhao Rong, "Damn it! If you’re from the True Martial Sect, how dare you sit in our section? Get lost, now!" As he spoke, he glared murderously at Zhao Rong.

When the surrounding True Martial Sect disciples saw Zhao Rong and Fatty cornered by the two huge n, they broke out in a cold sweat for them.

"This is bad," said one True Martial Sect disciple, a regular at the bar despite his own frail constitution. "Our newly promoted Sect Leader Zhao Rong is about to get beaten and utterly humiliated by the Wild Wolf Sect."

Another disciple, so hunched over he could barely stand straight but who would die before missing a night at the Red Romantic Bar, lanted, "And Fatty, too! Why did he bring our Sect Leader to sit in the Wild Wolf Sect’s section? Is he looking for trouble?"

Just as everyone assud Zhao Rong and Fatty would back down and leave...

Zhao Rong t the bald man’s glare with a chuckle. "And what if I don’t?"

Hearing such defiance from a True Martial Sect disciple for the first ti, the long-haired and bald-headed n exchanged a look. They then waved over their brethren. "Wild Wolf Sect disciples, get over here! We’ve got one from the True Martial Sect who isn’t afraid to die!"

At their call, the other Wild Wolf Sect mbers sward toward the table.

"Damn it! The True Martial Sect has always been our punching bag," one of them snarled as he approached. "How did they produce soone brave enough to challenge us? We’ll kill him!"

"This kid has no idea what he’s getting into," another sneered. "He must have eaten a leopard’s gall to co to our turf looking for a fight. He’s got a death wish."

The proprietress of the Red Romantic Bar sighed. It seems the disciples of the True Martial Sect are going to be taught another lesson by the Wild Wolf Sect tonight.

Seeing the large crowd surrounding them, Fatty was terrified. "Sect Leader, let’s get out of here! We could lose our lives tonight!"

Before Fatty could finish, a familiar face pushed through the Wild Wolf Sect crowd. It was Johnny, the Alchemy Instructor Zhao Rong had previously humiliated. He stepped forward, a sly grin on his face. "Zhao Rong. As the saying goes, enemies are destined to cross paths. I never expected to run into you here."

With that, Johnny laughed. It’s all because of you, Zhao Rong! Because of you, I was mocked, looked down upon, and finally expelled from the True Martial Sect by the Sect Leader! Tonight, I will have my revenge.

When Zhao Rong saw that his forr sect brother had defected to their mortal enemies, he cursed, "Johnny, you treacherous, ungrateful bastard! It’s my lucky day, running into you here."

Johnny sneered back, "What, you think you can fight ? A re level-seventeen cultivator against , an incredible Alchemist?" He then continued to taunt Zhao Rong. "If you’ve got the guts, then hit . Go on, hit !"

Johnny thrust his face forward, deliberately daring Zhao Rong to strike. He was certain that Zhao Rong, surrounded by dozens of Wild Wolf Sect disciples, was too terrified to do anything. Even invited, he wouldn’t dare to act.

However, Johnny had severely underestimated Zhao Rong’s audacity.

Before Johnny could even finish his taunt, Zhao Rong snatched a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it across his face.

BANG!

Blood gushed from the wound. As Johnny crumpled to the ground, he managed to stamr, "You... you really have guts... I told you to hit ... and you actually hit..."

Zhao Rong tossed the broken bottle aside. "Damn right. You told to hit you, so why wouldn’t I? It was a free shot."

Seeing Johnny get knocked out, the Wild Wolf Sect disciples erupted. Dozens of them surged forward at once.

Seeing this, Zhao Rong thought to himself, It’s been a while since I used my Special Abilities.

He instantly activated them, gaining the speed of a cat and the reflexes of lightning. Faster than the naked eye could see, he zipped through the crowd, snatching the belts from the Wild Wolf Sect disciples one by one.

By the ti Zhao Rong was back in his seat, the belts of every disciple surrounding him had vanished. An instant later, their pants all dropped to their ankles. Due to a peculiar sect rule that forbade wearing underwear, every single one of them was going commando. The once-arrogant, nacing thugs were now all squatting on the floor, frantically trying to cover their private parts.

At that exact mont, as the Wild Wolf Sect disciples crouched in humiliation, Zhao Rong drew a weapon from his Storm storage. It was the Dharma Sword, a blade comparable to the legendary Dragon-Slaying Saber, capable of cutting down the Divine Clan above and slaying the Dragon Clan below.

When the crowd saw the Dharma Sword in Zhao Rong’s hand, a collective gasp filled the Red Romantic Bar. Everyone was stunned. All Zhao Rong had to do was aim at the disciples squatting on the ground and give his sword a light swing.

Their heads would roll across the floor like rubber balls.