“Bullshit!” The boy with three braids shouted and charged at Henry Stone.

The other three also rushed forward, all drawing daggers from their waists.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to use more powerful weapons, but aside from daggers, all other weapons were regulated. It was fine to keep them at home, but taking them out… that would be asking for death.

Henry Stone stood with his hands behind his back. With his current strength and insight, even the four of them together were no threat to him.

“Pretty boy, go to hell!” The four had already closed in. The boy with three braids didn’t have a dagger; he was using brass knuckles. If he landed a punch, the damage would be no less than a dagger’s.

Henry Stone kicked out—bang, bang, bang—three kicks in a row, and three people were sent flying by him.

Damn!

The boy with three braids’ eyes nearly popped out, and the fist he had raised froze in midair.

Chapter 10: A Tiger Among Sheep

To kick someone three zhang (about ten meters) into the air with one kick—what kind of concept was that?

At the very least, the boy with three braids knew he could never do it, not even close.

But Henry Stone had done it.

Easily, with just three kicks, he sent three people flying three zhang high, scaring the boy so much that he didn’t dare throw his punch.

Two thousand jin of strength? Damaged meridians in his right leg and arm?

Who are you kidding!

Since when could two thousand jin of force kick a grown man three zhang into the air? And besides, he wasn’t blind—couldn’t he see that Henry Stone was using his right leg?

What the hell kind of intel was this? And was that employer out to get them, deliberately setting up the Hailing Martial Hall?

Smack, smack, smack—the three men crashed to the ground, motionless. Their internal organs had been kicked to pieces; they were dead for sure.

—For those who tried to kill him, why would Henry Stone show any mercy?

“Why aren’t you moving?” Henry Stone asked the boy with three braids.

The boy forced an awkward smile. “I wouldn’t dare! I wouldn’t dare!” He slowly lowered his fist, moving as slowly as an eighty-year-old man, afraid Henry Stone would think he was about to attack.

His four companions still lay on the ground, their souls not far from this world.

Henry Stone nodded. “Why did you want to kill me?”

“Because we received a commission,” the boy with three braids answered honestly.

“Who commissioned you?” Henry Stone asked again.

“I don’t know,” the boy replied. Seeing Henry Stone’s face darken, he quickly added, “I really don’t know. My boss took the job; I’m just the one carrying it out.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“David Zhao, Master Zhao the Fourth,” the boy said.

David Zhao?

“Who is David Zhao?” Henry Stone searched his memory but couldn’t recall anyone by that name.

“Master Zhao the Fourth from Hailing Martial Hall,” the boy added.

Hailing Martial Hall?

Henry Stone finally remembered, and as he thought more, many details surfaced.

If you wanted to learn martial arts, the best choice was, of course, Xingfeng Academy, with professional teachers, systematic training, and national support.

But Xingfeng Academy was hard to get into, and even if you got in, you might be expelled. Take the annual exam, for example—even though all the entrants were top prospects, some were still eliminated every year.

So, martial halls sprang up.

Martial halls could also teach, and they didn’t care about talent—as long as you had money.

However, Hailing Martial Hall was more than just a martial hall. It was said to be the leading underground force in Mengyang City, often helping the city’s powerful families with things they couldn’t handle themselves.

So, it made sense that someone would pay Hailing Martial Hall to take action.

But who was it?

Was it Thomas Song?

Henry Stone remembered that the head of Hailing Martial Hall was Walter Wood, not David Zhao.

But Walter Wood was only a senior martial apprentice.

Henry Stone nodded. “Lead the way.”

“W-where to?” the boy with three braids stammered.

“Hailing Martial Hall,” Henry Stone said calmly.

What?

The boy looked surprised. He knew Henry Stone was strong, but no matter how strong, he was still just a sixteen-year-old. Could he really be stronger than Master Zhao the Fourth?

Even if he was, could he be stronger than their boss’s boss, the hall master Walter Wood?

That was a senior martial apprentice!

Then, a look of joy appeared on his face. If you want to walk into the trap yourself, all the better.

Hmph, once you’re inside the martial hall, you’ll know what it means to be a sheep among tigers.

He obediently led the way in front, with Henry Stone following behind.

As they walked, Henry Stone was thinking about martial techniques.

Before, his meridians were damaged, so he could only use one hand and one leg. Now that he had recovered, he could use martial techniques again.

Martial artists train to gain strength far beyond ordinary people, but how do you fully unleash that strength?

That’s where martial techniques come in.

Two martial apprentices with the same strength, but using different techniques, could have vastly different combat power.

Because good martial techniques not only allow a martial artist to fully utilize their strength, but can even let them surpass it.

Last year, Henry Stone was able to advance all the way to the finals because he had learned a martial technique called Flying Cloud Fist, which was passed down from his adoptive father, Steven Stone.