C183 Eight Blasts Suppressing the Mountains and Rivers

"Hoo hoo!"

The dagger in the assassin's grasp was razor-sharp.

As it thrust forward, it seemed to slice through the air itself.

The blade was inches from Lin Dong's neck when the assassin attacking from behind couldn't help but beam with triumph.

His sole purpose was to kill Lin Dong.

And now, as Lin Dong's life hung by a thread, the assassin reveled in the thought of his imminent success, along with the hefty reward that would surpass his peers'.

But as he basked in his anticipated victory and moved to advance, a sudden pain exploded in his abdomen!

In the next instant, he was airborne.

Flailing wildly, the assassin slammed into the ceiling.

He then plummeted to the floor, landing with a thud in a prone position.

Bang!

The impact sent tremors through the ground.

Lin Dong dusted off his hands, looking down at the two men sprawled on the floor, and remarked, "You think you can assassinate me with these pathetic attempts? You're seriously underestimating me."

The assassin who had crashed into the wall scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with fear.

Clutching his dagger, he warned Lin Dong, "Don't think this is over. Our boss hasn't even shown up yet!"

The second assassin rose as well, dagger in hand, grimacing with pain but with a defiant look in his eyes. "Just wait till our boss gets here. Then you're a dead man!"

"Oh? And who might your boss be? Let him come out," Lin Dong challenged, standing with his arms crossed, the picture of ease.

He was far from intimidated. These two were no match for him, and even if their boss was formidable, he couldn't be that much better.

To Lin Dong, this level of fighting prowess was trivial.

"Boom!"

Out of nowhere, a fist shot out from behind the window curtain, aimed straight for Lin Dong's face.

Lin Dong was taken aback.

He hadn't noticed someone lurking by the window.

As the punch closed in, Lin Dong swiftly stepped back.

That's when a figure, more muscular than the previous assassins, emerged. He wore a black mask that left only his fierce eyes visible.

Without uttering a word, the man launched a series of powerful punches at Lin Dong.

"Alright! Boss, finish him off!"

"The boss is a descendant of the Hong Fist, a martial arts master. Taking down Lin Dong would be child's play for him!"

Two assassins stood at the edge of the fray, their gazes fierce and predatory.

They gripped their daggers tightly, poised to strike at Lin Dong at the first opportunity.

A glint appeared in Lin Dong's eyes.

From the assassins' conversation, he learned the identity of their formidable ally—a descendant of the Hong Fist.

The technique was impressive, each move resonating with the sounds of wind and thunder.

With every swing, the air itself seemed to quiver, as if its flow was halted by the sheer force.

Lin Dong had never encountered a true warrior before.

The so-called experts he had seen on television were all show, their moves accompanied by dramatic whooshing sounds, their sleeves fluttering as if slicing through the air.

The punch-throwing figure certainly had the air of a master.

Yet, despite the assassins' admiration, Lin Dong remained undaunted.

He had dispatched the two assailants using only his fundamental strength.

Now, as the practitioner of the Hong Fist launched his attack, Lin Dong knew he couldn't rely on brute force alone.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Lin Dong steadied himself.

He abruptly planted his feet, causing a tremor on the ground, then, channeling the profound essence of the Eight Blasts, he harnessed the power from his waist, driving his back and hands forward in a fierce punch.

This technique was known as 'Strength Suppresses Mountains and Rivers!'

It was a head-on challenge to the Hong Fist descendant, a true test to see who was the mightier.