Ethan Thompson knew that if he got caught by this move, his lower leg would definitely be broken, losing all combat ability on the spot. Although he had mastered Tiger Roar Golden Bell Shield and Dragon Chant Iron Shirt, he was not truly invulnerable. Against masters like Henry Ford and David Carter, he could withstand their attacks, but Chris Clark was a master on the same level as him—every punch and kick carried immense destructive power, and he could not take them head-on.

He stepped sideways, his footwork spiraling, alternating between the eight trigrams, his body slipping away like a loach in water, gliding back five steps.

Chris Clark's killing intent condensed, his whole being like a peerless god of slaughter. He lunged forward five steps, pressing in, his hand like a spear, thrusting straight at the heart.

Five-Step Soul-Chasing Spear.

This was a spear technique.

Within five steps, it would claim a person's soul.

Though he held no spear, his body was the spear, his arm was the spear, and his lethality surpassed that of any weapon.

Ethan Thompson retreated, and he advanced. Five steps back, five steps forward, like a maggot clinging to the bone.

With a single thrust, danger loomed on all sides.

But there was not the slightest panic in Ethan Thompson's eyes—calm as still water, as tranquil as an ancient well, a clear mirror hanging in his mind, perceiving every change at every moment.

He had long since put life and death aside; all that remained was to unleash his full strength.

This was the battle he had longed for. Without the catalyst and stimulation of a powerful enemy, how could one improve?

The fist was already at his chest.

His hands, like a heart-protecting mirror, crossed and parted, already waiting there, forming a trap.

Chapter 10: A Stroke of Genius

Suddenly, Chris Clark's arm twisted, his fist trembling unpredictably, not entering the trap but instead rebounding, snapping toward Ethan Thompson's face.

A sudden, unexpected move!

The subtlety and ingenuity of this move made it impossible to defend against. True skill is shown in the finest details—this was Chris Clark's technique. His cultivation had reached the point where he could change and redirect his power at will.

This was the culmination of all his martial experience and cultivation.

"You're still too green." His gaze seemed to tell Ethan Thompson, for in the next moment, Ethan Thompson's skull would be shattered.

Ethan Thompson had no way to dodge this time. In a duel between masters, life and death could be decided in just a few moves. His experience seemed lacking, not as cunning as Chris Clark, and he already had one foot in the grave.

Yet his expression and demeanor grew even calmer, as if a Buddha about to enter nirvana, feeling compassion for all beings, abandoning the physical form, and attaining great liberation.

He paid no mind to his opponent's hand striking his face, to his skull being smashed—none of it concerned him. Suddenly, his hands at his chest shot out.

Peerless assassin, King of Assassins in the Golden Hall.

He did not strike at Chris Clark's heart, but at his shoulder and arm.

Chris Clark's hand reached Ethan Thompson's face and could have shattered his skull, but at the very instant of impact, it was as if all the force had been drained away, like a deflated ball—completely dissipated.

Because his arm flew high into the air.

At the most critical moment, Ethan Thompson unleashed a peerless thrust, severing the flesh and joint of Chris Clark's shoulder and arm, causing his arm to detach from his body!

With hand and body separated, all strength was lost.

Blood sprayed everywhere, gushing out. Chris Clark became a one-armed man, stumbling backward in panic, all his momentum gone, his eyes filled with incomprehension: "A stroke of genius, a stroke of genius... Your final strike severed my shoulder. Your technique is more subtle and refined than mine, truly a stroke of genius."

"The human body is limited, but the human mind is infinite. Our physical abilities are the same, but your mind is still mired in the petty concerns of the mundane world. With worldly distractions in your heart, you are not pure. In the smallest difference lies the shift between life and death." Ethan Thompson did not pursue.

"As long as one lives in the mortal world, one can never escape the mundane. You are the same—human is human." Chris Clark's expression was calm. "Then I'll go first. It won't be long before someone comes to send you to join me."

As he spoke, without any visible movement, blood began to flow from his seven orifices. He stood motionless, his breath ceased.

He had exerted force, rupturing his own blood vessels and heart. This was "severing one's own meridians."

"Why didn't he run? Even with a severed arm, a master can completely control his blood flow and leave this place. At his speed, no one could catch him." Brian Carter only dared to approach after a long while.

"Because I am here. He knew he couldn't escape." Ethan Thompson was as calm as if he had just woken from sleep.

In the early morning, an emergency meeting was being held in an office.

On the large screen at the front of the meeting room, the corpse of Chris Clark was displayed, along with various data and information.

"Gentlemen, this emergency meeting of the security department concerns the international fugitive Zhanlong, who infiltrated our country and was killed. Zhanlong, full name Chris Clark, is wanted by more than twenty countries and has killed over fifty Interpol agents. He possesses special abilities—he can alter his facial muscles to become another person, is skilled at bone-shrinking, can reduce or enlarge his body size. In other words, in an instant, his appearance and physique can change, allowing him to assume multiple identities."

The meeting was chaired by a man whose gaze was like a torch, with prominent temples, his whole body radiating explosive power. He moved like the wind, giving the impression of someone who could work for days and nights without rest.

One look at this man's bearing and you knew he could be entrusted with great responsibility.