"Mr. Chen, are you all right?" Lin Jingzhu quickly approached, asking with concern.
"I'm fine."
Chen Mo shook his numb arm, looked towards the distant ruins, and said calmly: "Waving one's hand isn't an apology, it's just indicating you need more practice... you bald monk, do you yield?"
"Cough, cough..."
A violent coughing sound arose.
The gray-robed monk crawled out from the wreckage, walking somewhat unsteadily.
His golden body was covered with web-like cracks, his chest was sunken, a clear fist imprint was on his heart, his face pale as paper, and blood constantly seeped from the corner of his mouth.
"What a hard fist, sir." The monk's figure wavered as he said with a bitter smile.
The Immovable Golden Body may not be invincible, but breaking it with brute force is almost impossible.
