C38 The Power Was too Strong

"How dare you strike me!" Young Master Jing exclaimed in terror, his eyes bulging in disbelief as he stared at the unremarkable Pei Yu.

"Do you have any idea who Young Master Jing is? How could you possibly hit him?"

As Young Master Jing spoke, Pei Yu nonchalantly pressed his palm against Young Master Jing's chest. In a flash, Young Master Jing was swept away like a dinghy caught in a massive wave.

Young Master Jing's friends watched in horror as he tumbled down the stairs, unable to even let out a scream. He might very well be dead.

The sight made Young Master Jing's three friends' skin crawl, terror-stricken to their very core.

Had Young Master Jing just been slain by this young man before them?

"I may have been a tad too forceful," Pei Yu remarked coolly, glancing over. He had forgotten that even a casual palm strike of his now packed the force of over ten thousand kilograms.

The man was likely just a First or Second Grade, and Pei Yu had sent him flying effortlessly.

It wasn't intentional; Pei Yu simply hadn't controlled his power.

"Well, if he's dead, then that's that," Pei Yu said, hands clasped behind his back, showing no sign of surprise—as if it were nothing more than a trivial incident.

The three onlookers, faced with Pei Yu's composed demeanor, turned ashen and shook uncontrollably.

Pei Yu stepped closer and regarded them. "Does anyone else here aspire to claim that seat?"

At his words, the trio's legs buckled, and they fell to their knees.

"Senior, have mercy on us."

"We admit our wrongdoing. Please, let us off."

"Senior, I have a family to care for."

The three pleaded desperately, bowing their heads repeatedly.

Their earlier bravado had vanished into thin air, and they dared not utter another word.

As martial artists themselves, they recognized that Pei Yu's abilities were well beyond Fifth Grade.

A mere flick of his finger was all it would take to end their lives.

Only a Fifth Grade master would dare to take a life so casually—especially the life of Young Master Jing!

"Is this really the level of today's martial artists?" Pei Yu scoffed, uninterested in further discussion. He paused momentarily, then continued his descent down the slope.

Pei Yu moved with the swiftness of a cheetah.

Midway up the mountain, a father and son had just retrieved their water bottle when they witnessed a man tumbling down from above, rolling past them like a sphere.

"Dad, was that warrior practicing the iron shirt technique earlier?"

"Perhaps that method of training is more effective for him."

"Then I'll adopt that technique for my own training in the future."

The boy had just picked up the cup and was about to stow it away when it slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground once more.

"Dad, look, it's him again."

Looking up, they saw Pei Yu streak by at a blistering pace, exceeding twenty meters per second, his face a blur in the gusting wind.

"We've encountered an unusual number of warriors today. That makes two this morning alone," the father remarked with a sigh.

It wasn't until Pei Yu had vanished from sight that the three men on the mountain summit dared to rise to their feet, their expressions etched with terror. One of them exclaimed, "Young Master Jing has been murdered. We're doomed."

"Should we act as if we saw nothing?"

"Are you out of your mind? Young Master Jing's father is one of the eight Masters of the Thunderclap Martial Club. If he starts investigating, do you really think we'll get off scot-free?"

"So, what's our next move?"

Paralyzed with fear, the trio didn't dare entertain any other ideas.

"We have no choice but to report it voluntarily. Are you prepared to take responsibility?"

"It seems we have no other option. Luck certainly wasn't on our side today."

Shaking with apprehension, they quickly descended the mountain to relay the incident to the Thunderclap Martial Club.