"I will not kneel until you pass my little brother to me," said Qiao Han, his voice trembling not with fear, but with the fury of unyielding resolve. His legs wobbled, but he stood firm, shielding Lin Ziao behind him.
Hahahaha!
"Another piece of trash opposing my will," said Yei Feng with a grin that twisted too far. His gang members burst into laughter—not out of amusement, but from fear, their eyes flickering between Qiao Han and their monstrous leader.
"If you show those multicolored teeth and that sewer stench of yours in front of me again, you'll feel pain you've never imagined," Qiao Han snapped, his words sharp and mocking.
Yei Feng's smile vanished. Frozen.
"You're going to wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you," he growled. His voice filled to the brim with venom and promised agony.
With the crack of displaced air, they both lunged forward, movements blurring beyond the eyes of common men.
"Graviton Fist of Suppression!"
"You animal, you're too slow!"
"Say that one more time and you'll leave this world without a soul!"
"You can go fu— your grandfather!" Qiao Han retorted mid-dodge, slipping through attacks with precision. His body weaved like a shadow through the storm of fists. He was one cultivation realm below, yet it never showed—his Snake Slither Movement Technique left afterimages behind, haunting Yei Feng's strikes.
At times, Yei Feng's punches seemed destined to connect, only for Qiao Han to vanish a hair's breadth before contact.
It began to look like Qiao Han could win—if only by exhausting the gang leader.
Until—
"You die, son of a bitch!!"
Yei Feng's fist tore through the air—an attack that collapsed all paths of escape. It was a killing move.
Qiao Han responded in kind, a retaliatory punch that was more out of instinct than hope. But it wasn't enough.
The power gap between them was rooted in cultivation and the earth-forged quality of their qi.
You see—before the Bone Forging Realm, qi is like vapor—unseen and formless. But once a cultivator enters that realm, their qi becomes like a tornado: solid, unstoppable, terrifying. It can be seen, heard, and feared.
BOOM!
Ptui!
Blood spilled from Qiao Han's mouth as the blow landed. His knees buckled—but he stood again. Through sheer grit, through blazing defiance. His body trembled, but his eyes—his eyes still burned.
He turned slowly toward Lin Ziao, eyes gentle despite his battered face. "I want to tell you something, little brother," he said, breathing hard. "Never yield. Not to pressure, not in battle, not in love. Stand firm—always. Like a mountain. Like a man."
"Stop the f**king advice and come face your daddy over here!" Yei Feng roared, charging once more.
Qiao Han didn't back down. He surged forward. Each blow he took was returned. He was battered—but so was Yei Feng.
SMACK! THUD!
Then, with a wild gleam in his bloodied eyes, Qiao Han spat blood and grinned. "I'll drag you to hell with me, you scum."
He looked back at Lin Ziao one last time, his voice silent but his heart roaring—and then, with a sudden burst of all his qi, he crossed the final line.
His body erupted in power—his veins glowed faintly as he unlocked his final reserves, pushing past his limits.
And then—
CRACK!!
His fist drove into Yei Feng's crotch with the might of all his pain, rage, and spirit. A sound like breaking pottery echoed. Flesh crumpled. Bones shattered.
Yei Feng let out a scream that pierced the heavens. "AHHH! MY CHILDREN! MY JOHNNY!!"
The blade came a second later—Yei Feng's desperate stab in blind retaliation.
Qiao Han's body fell limp, lifeless.
But the gang leader collapsed too—bloodied, shaking, and barely conscious. He touched between his legs and wailed. "My Johnny… gone! My future… gone!!"
His followers, already losing faith, looked at him with disgust—and fear. Whispering among themselves, they picked him up and fled.
Yei Feng left that battlefield not as a feared gang leader, but a broken, crying eunuch.
Now only Lin Ziao and Jin Mei remained. Still. Pale. Watching.
Qiao Han's body lay there. Cold. Silent.
Lin Ziao took a step forward, kneeling beside the fallen man. His hands shook as he reached out, touching the bloodstained shirt of his brother.
"Big brother..." he whispered. "I will avenge you. I will make you proud. Rest now, and find peace among the ancestors..."
His words came with a vow. And as they left his mouth, something stirred deep within him.
A warmth. Then a burn.
His blood—no, something within it—awakened. The ancient strength of the tiger clan, long dormant in his veins, stirred from its slumber albest slightly.
He did not notice the faint stripes beginning to shimmer beneath his skin.
He did not see Jin Mei staring at him with wide eyes.