This female companion did not sense the heroic spirit that Grace Harper mentioned, but the chief constable of Haizhou Prefecture, George King, had already felt it. When he entered the Lotus Courtyard, his legs trembled so much that he could barely stand. He happened to notice that the usually frivolous Little Henry, whom he normally looked down upon, was walking steadily. Forcing himself to stand, he braced himself.

After a moment, George King couldn’t help but call out, “Come over and give me a hand, Young Master. Why is the ground in this courtyard slanted? I feel a bit dizzy. Don’t you feel it?”

A trace of pride appeared on Henry Brooks’s face. “George King, you’ve seen corpses before, haven’t you? Why are you acting like this now?”

Two yamen runners hurried over to support George King. George King explained, “The cases that have happened in Haizhou City in the past were just domestic disputes or thefts—petty crimes. Occasionally, there might be a murder, but that’s a once-in-a-decade event. None of those cases were ever this brutal.

My goodness, look, the ribs of this corpse are all shattered. How much force must have been used? The person who threw this punch—are they even human? Even a tiger probably doesn’t have this kind of strength.”

Just then, David Ford came out of the main hall, swaying as he carried a red-tasseled spear. His gait was very odd, nothing like the bearing of a scholar who had studied etiquette in an academy or school—someone like that, as Henry Brooks had introduced, was supposedly also a learned man… George King didn’t believe it.

Considering that the man had been made foolish by kidnappers and had been fed knockout drugs for a whole month—probably by the pound—Henry Brooks had no interest in correcting him. With a single hand, he gestured and introduced to George King, “This is the hero who killed the villains barehanded. That punch—it was all him.”

George King feared villains, but he was least afraid of ordinary folks. Seeing the other’s plain and ill-fitting clothes, which looked quite odd… George King steadied his feet, shook off the supporting yamen runners, and asked Henry Brooks, “Really? You saw it with your own eyes?”

Henry Brooks shook his head. “By the time I arrived, the fight was already over. Only a girl who had been abducted was conscious at the scene. She saw everything. This little girl is the daughter of the county constable of Jiangdu.”

After speaking, Henry Brooks felt unsatisfied and added, “The daughter of County Constable Huang—she’s very sharp-tongued.”

George King sized up David Ford, and when their eyes met, he couldn’t help but squint.

Standing before him, David Ford, though behaving strangely, was like a dazzling sun, making people instinctively want to avoid his gaze.

So, George King shifted his gaze, slowly sweeping over the corpse in the courtyard, and unconsciously mimicked the actions at the scene with his hands. “First, someone tried a sneak attack, probably aiming to strike the head with a club. The victim swung back with a punch, shattering the club. The attacker’s neck was broken and he died on the spot, his body thrown two or three zhang away… Good heavens, what kind of strength is this?

Oh, perhaps hearing the sound of the club breaking, several people rushed in from all directions—this one was probably kicked in the chest, his ribs completely shattered, his body sent flying; this one was punched in the shoulder, the shoulder bone broken, and the force was so great that even his leg bones snapped, his neck twisted… My, every punch and kick was fatal, not a single extra blow.

Here, two knives are broken, the blades completely shattered, only the handles remain… All of this—was it really you?”

David Ford showed an embarrassed smile. “That’s right. My mind was foggy at the time, didn’t even know where these people came from or why they wanted to hit me with clubs. I just saw shadows moving in front of me, couldn’t see clearly, so I just hit any shadow I saw. Hit and hit, all muddled, and it ended up like this.”

George King held his belly with both hands, answering solemnly, “That’s ‘waking rage’—when someone is suddenly woken from a deep sleep, naturally they’re furious and start swinging at anything that moves.

Henry Brooks already said, I heard you were fed knockout drugs for a whole month—what an appetite! Look at the kind of ‘waking rage’ you’ve caused, it’s nothing like ordinary people. Most people would just flail a bit, but you… people died. All of this was you? I don’t believe it. You look so frail—come, hit me once and let’s see.”

David Ford responded without hesitation, cheerfully, “Are you sure… are you sure you want to try my fist? Let me tell you, time and space are no obstacle to me, nor is strength. Once you decide, don’t regret it.”

“I say, why are you talking so much nonsense? Hurry up, I’m busy, I don’t have time to waste with you.”

“All right, here I come!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a fierce wind rushed forward. Almost no one saw how David Ford moved; they only saw him suddenly cross more than ten meters, swinging his fist at George King’s face…

“Stop!” Everyone was shouting at the top of their lungs, except George King, who couldn’t utter a sound.

A violent wind slammed into him. George King felt as if he were in the eye of a typhoon, unable to stand steady. The wild wind made it so that as soon as he opened his mouth, it was filled and stuffed with air, his lungs swelling, unable to catch his breath, nearly choking him to death. He felt as if his mouth was being inflated like a balloon, his cheeks puffed out, and the muscles in his cheeks spasmed uncontrollably.