Chapter 104: Through the Heart, One Punch

The man sent flying by that punch fell into the swamp, his body stained with mud and filth.

The man leaning against the rock wall looked down at him from dozens of meters away, equally covered in dust and moss.

Although both appeared drenched in dust and mire, there was an enormous difference in their essence.

One still stood tall and proud, while the other lay broken with shattered bones. That was the distinction.

“I thought you might have some backing for coming here, or that you had learned some obscure techniques from the ‘Hall Master’. It turns out you’re simply charging in here to die with nothing but raw courage.”

Yang Luo looked down at him with a cold smile.

“Cough, cough… cough…”

Lin Heng coughed up mouthfuls of blood and struggled to rise from the ground, barely managing to stand in place.

This level of pain should have felled anyone, yet he still retained some combat ability.

Yang Luo had no reason to be surprised. As fellow superhumans, he understood all too well the domineering and unbelievable nature of his own power.

Unlike the “superheroes” in movies, who possessed abilities to evaporate mountains and seas or reverse the sun and moon, yet were still knocked out by a flying brick, the disciples beneath the inheritance of the Derivation God Hall lacked that extreme explosive force and destructive power. Still, their foundational physical qualities and perception were flawless, making them pentagonal warriors capable of forming an entire army alone.

Injuries like fractured ribs and sternum were minor for them, requiring only a day or two’s rest, while for ordinary people they would necessitate hospital care for months.

Lin Heng wiped the blood from his lips with a grimy hand, leaving fresh smears across his face.

“I haven’t directly communicated with the Derivation God Hall Master, though I received his inheritance and can sense his presence.”

“Oh?”

This surprised Yang Luo.

“You never thought of seeking divine aid? If that supreme being issued an order, our hatred would be irrelevant, and we could never harm each other. And—”

A wicked grin suddenly twisted his face.

“That is a god. He can bestow superhuman power—why not resurrect the dead? Why not pray to him?”

Yang Luo’s voice was a demonic whisper, yet his smile held an emotion he himself did not believe.

Lin Heng fell silent, a complex expression flashing across his face before vanishing, leaving only calm.

“I have considered it. But I will not pray to the gods.”

“Because that would mean surrendering completely before them and abandoning my self.”

Observing his steady expression, Yang Luo narrowed his eyes slightly. An inexplicable rage surged in his chest. His wicked smile twisted into a savage one. He took a heavy step, mud flying, and crossed dozens of meters in a blur to stand before Lin Heng.

Before Lin Heng could fully regain his footing, Yang Luo pressed close, switching from fist to elbow, and drove a crushing blow into his chest.

“Boom!”

Lin Heng’s eyes bulged, blood spraying from his mouth, body suspended in mid-air when suddenly, in one-tenth of a second, Yang Luo closed the distance again, maintaining the same furious exchange while matching his flight speed—

Fist! Palm! Leg! Palm! Fist!

“Bang bang bang bang bang bang!”

The barrage of impacts echoed like thunder. Yang Luo’s strikes flowed freely, every move merciless. In an instant, over a hundred blows landed, each infused with the immense force to shatter stone and split tablets, hammering Lin Heng’s vital points relentlessly.

These techniques were not systematic, violating the so-called martial principles or the essence of fighting. Slowed down a thousandfold, they would be the clumsy, mediocre moves scorned by all boxing masters and martial artists. Yet at a thousandfold increase, they became unique killing arts and ultimate techniques visible only through high-speed cameras.

All martial knowledge in the world sought to exploit the fragile physiology of ordinary humans, capturing openings or feints before delivering a final blow to disable the enemy.

But with a body hundreds or thousands of times stronger, such concepts became absurd. Natural perception alone could unleash maximum power, revealing the strongest sequence.

Yang Luo’s fist roared like thunder. Every shift of his figure produced sonic booms that shook the air. The winds stirred by his passage whipped the fog and miasma into chaotic spirals.

Lin Heng’s body tumbled like a fragile boat in the storm of punches, tossed and spun helplessly through the air.

If not for his superhuman resilience far exceeding mortal limits, he would have been torn apart long ago.

Even so, the assault that would pulverize a main battle tank reduced his body to bloody ruin, exposed bones and organs spilling outward.

Lin Heng’s form soared through the miasma, splattering red and white across the ground.

Yang Luo watched with cold eyes, then leaped onto the top of Lin Heng’s inert body. Using the downward pull of gravity, he drove his final fist straight into the left side of Lin Heng’s chest.

“Boom!”

Lin Heng’s body finally collapsed.

The strike had not only crushed his front chest but pierced through his heart and into his back. Yang Luo’s right fist remained embedded like a nail, imprinting the ground and pinning Lin Heng in place.

Pierced through the chest.

Fractured bones.

Shattered heart.

“Such a wound would kill me as well—let alone you… unless the Derivation God Hall Master intervened personally. But if a god came out for you, I would have nothing more to say.”

Yang Luo stared fixedly at Lin Heng’s dilated pupils, split lips, and face drenched crimson with blood, finally feeling relief.

Lin Heng’s heart, pierced and compressed, twitched weakly against Yang Luo’s arm, still trying to pump blood.

Yang Luo simply smiled coldly, elbowed the heart open, and ended its futile rhythm.

Watching the life drain from Lin Heng’s body, Yang Luo exhaled softly, feeling an unprecedented lightness.

“Kneeling before the gods? Abandoning self? What do you think you are? You can stand here and fight me for so long, yet you still rely on the god’s gift. If fate had not placed you among the superhumans, how could a mere small-town policeman like you have the right to speak with me? Hahaha, what a joke!”

Yang Luo burst into wild laughter, then spat a glob of saliva onto Lin Heng’s face.

“Ptoo!”

He rose triumphantly, gazing at the ruined battlefield ahead, where mountains had collapsed and rocks shattered amid swirling fog.

“Other superhumans are no different either. Becoming the only superhuman in the country might still offer a chance to confront that woman from Japan…

“If so, why not kill her too and become the sole superhuman in the world?”

A playful smile curved Yang Luo’s lips.

He shifted from his crouch and reached to pull his arm free from the chest wound, preparing to return from the valley.

He believed that upon seeing Xu Jingyuan—and possibly Jiang Chao’an, who might already have arrived—their attitudes would change once more.

But just as he began to withdraw his arm, something felt wrong.

“Hm?!”

He turned. He had stood, yet his arm remained embedded in Lin Heng’s chest, still pinned in place.

And the police who had clearly died moments ago had opened his eyes again!

“You!”