On the platform, Zhou Cheng was the first to act, launching a direct attack toward Lin Mu's head with both fists clenched. Following close behind, Li Wan dropped low, attacking from below.

The third...

The fourth...

These dozen or so fighters were all experts from the club. In terms of strength and combat experience, they were second to none. They didn't attack blindly but split into several groups, sealing off all of Lin Mu's possible routes of attack or retreat.

If Lin Mu wanted to strike, he would have to face the combined assault of four men. Retreat?

Possible? Do they really think the others are just for show?

The crowd below watched with wide eyes, nervously following the match. A battle of this magnitude was a rare sight, something you might only see once in a decade. After witnessing this match, they would have a story to boast about for years to come.

Lin Mu remained calm. As Zhou Cheng threw his punch, Lin Mu merely tilted his head slightly to dodge it, then subtly retracted his chest.

Zhou Cheng's punch missed, but instead of showing disappointment, he sneered, his fist shifting into a claw as he reached for Lin Mu's temple. Had it connected, Lin Mu would have been injured. At the same time, Zhang Du's fist struck Lin Mu squarely in the chest. However, Zhang Du felt the power behind his punch instantly dissipate.

BANG!

In the next moment, Lin Mu's chest swelled, and a surge of power erupted outward.

Zhang Du screamed in agony, his arm falling limply to his side.

Did Lin Mu just shatter his arm with a pulse of force?

Meanwhile, Lin Mu's other hand shot up, about to grasp Zhou Cheng's wrist just as his claw was a mere inch away from Lin Mu's head. Lin Mu's arm tensed, and with a forceful twist, a sharp crunching sound echoed as he snapped Zhou Cheng's arm.

As for Li Wan, who intended to attack Lin Mu's lower body, he found his ankle pinned to the floor by Lin Mu's foot.

CRACK!

Li Wan let out a scream, his face twisting in pain. Just as he tried to retreat, Lin Mu pivoted his foot and brutally kicked him in the chest.

PUH!

Spitting a mouthful of blood, Li Wan was sent flying backward. He crashed onto the floor below the platform and could not rise again.

"A knight of Zhao with silken-tasseled cap, his Wu hook gleaming like frost and snow!"

Lin Mu's figure flickered. He threw a mighty and heavy punch, sending Zhou Cheng flying backward with a scream, his chest caved in.

"A silver saddle on a snow-white steed, he gallops past, a shooting star in speed!"

Lin Mu dissolved into a blur of afterimages, reappearing in front of Zhang Du. He grabbed the man's arm and slammed his shoulder into him.

CRACK!

Zhang Du screamed as his entire upper body exploded.

Zhang Du died.

"With every step a man is slain, for a thousand miles, no trace remains!"

On the platform, only a series of afterimages could be seen as Lin Mu moved through the crowd with an air of wild abandon. But with each pause, another man would fall. In the blink of an eye, only eight fighters remained standing. Lin Mu had just slain a full ten men.

The crowd drew in a sharp collective breath, the shock on their faces deepening.

On the platform, Lin Mu straightened up and lightly dusted off his clothes.

"When the deed is done, I flick my sleeves and go, concealing all my fame and skill from show."

In the next second, Lin Mu appeared before another man. His palm instantly closed around the opponent's neck, and he squeezed with violent force.

CRACK!

The resentful fighter collapsed.

"I drink with lords and pass the time with ease, then draw my sword to lay it on my knees."

Lin Mu raised two fingers and made a light swiping motion. A sound like tearing silk filled the air. A man who was trying to flee by leaping off the platform suddenly froze mid-air. The next moment, a shocking scene unfolded as a thin red line appeared on the man's brow.

SPLAT!

The man split vertically in two, the cut so neat it looked as if it had been made by the sharpest of blades. Everyone's face turned pale, and many began vomiting again.

...

Each time Lin Mu spoke, another person met a grisly death. His moves were clean and decisive, the scene utterly staggering.

"Even in death, a warrior's bones are fragrant, unashamed among the heroes of the age."

His figure flickered again, appearing before another man. He grabbed his collar and forcefully drove a knee into his abdomen.

PUH!

The man's bloodshot eyes bulged as he slowly collapsed.

"Who is left to write the tale? Of one who penned the *White-haired Tai Xuan Scripture* till his hair grew pale."

The last man's face was deathly pale. He had lost even the courage to make a move. When Lin Mu turned to look at him, the man's Adam's apple bobbed frantically, and a trace of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. He had been literally scared to death.

A deathly silence fell over the entire club. Everyone stared wide-eyed at the carnage on the stage, a deep chill pervading their bodies. A bone-piercing coldness surged from the soles of their feet to their hearts. They were shaken, shocked, and utterly terrified.

At this moment, no one dared to speak. They barely dared to breathe, holding their breath tightly. Lin Mu's figure loomed large in their eyes until it consumed their very minds. The sounds of slaughter, the screams of agony, the thud of bodies, and the splatter of blood echoed endlessly in their ears.

He was like a butcher who killed without blinking—or rather, a Devil returned from Hell!

「Third-floor private room.」

The woman on the left watched the bloody scene on the stage, her pretty face pale and her beautiful eyes filled with fear. The woman on the right was no better off; her body trembled slightly as she bit her lip hard, her eyes fixed on that one figure.

Even Peng Shi's expression changed slightly.

What a powerful killing aura! What's curious is that there was no fluctuation of True Qi when he attacked. Even his breathing and footwork aren't those of the Martial Way. It's as if he's killing with brute force alone. Could he have been trained in the army? No, impossible. Even an expert from the military couldn't do that. When he sliced that fighter in two with just his fingers… it was like magic. Even I couldn't achieve something like that.

...

Fang Ziming's gaze was blank and his limbs felt icy cold as he stared at Lin Mu, a god of slaughter incarnate, and at the corpses on the slaughterhouse-like stage. A terrible premonition flashed through his mind.

We've provoked someone we absolutely shouldn't have! Who in the world is Lin Mu? Why is he so powerful?

His eyes shifted, glancing down at Liu Zijian, who was watching with an excited, crimson-eyed expression. A lightning bolt of realization struck Fang Ziming, and he suddenly understood.

As the last man fell, Lin Mu's head snapped up toward the third floor. His gaze, brimming with murderous intent, locked onto Fang Ziming as he began to walk toward him.

"I gave you a chance. Hand over Fang Yongnian, and I'll give you a quick death."

Lin Mu's killing intent was tangible as he advanced, step by step. Everyone in his path subconsciously cleared a path, no one daring to stand before him, much less meet his eyes.

"I…" Fang Ziming collapsed to the ground, his face a mask of terror. "I… I've already sent someone to fetch him."

At that moment, a pale-faced man in his fifties was brought up. It was none other than Steward Fang Yongnian.

"Lin Mu, this is Fang Yongnian! I've brought him to you! Please, don't kill me!" Fang Ziming cried out, overjoyed at the sight of the steward as he pleaded with Lin Mu.

"Good. Then you can die now," Lin Mu nodded slowly, then raised his hand and sent a palm strike toward Fang Ziming.

"No!" Fang Ziming screamed. "You can't kill me! I'm from the Fang Family! Peng Shi, save me! Save meeee!"

In that moment, Fang Ziming finally felt true despair.

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