Catherine Turner was suddenly grabbed. Her body dropped into a squat, waist twisting, every joint in her body snapping into motion, both hands flaring open—this was the “Turning Palm” from Baguazhang, utilizing a whipping force.

　　Pa! The over-two-hundred-pound Violent Bear was flung out like a scarecrow, crashing to the ground.

　　Bang, bang, bang, bang! Immediately after, there was a series of faint gunshots (the gun was silenced). Catherine Turner darted about, her footwork gliding like ice skating. When she finally stopped, a bloody hole had appeared in her shoulder, and bright red blood instantly stained her white clothes.

　　William Young had fired. Catherine Turner dodged three shots, but was hit by one.

　　“Hitting a person is like hanging a painting!” William Young glanced over and saw the Evil Wolf slammed against the wall, sticking there for two or three seconds. He immediately fired, and seeing a bullet strike Catherine Turner, he felt a slight relief. “You’ve actually trained your kung fu to the level of transforming force, surpassing both obvious and hidden force, and you even managed to dodge three of my shots.”

　　William Young’s marksmanship had undergone specialized, rigorous training—he was a top-tier sniper. Yet he hadn’t expected Catherine Turner to dodge three consecutive shots.

　　After being shot, Catherine Turner’s face remained expressionless. She shrugged her shoulder, and—plop!—a bloodied bullet was ejected from her shoulder by sheer muscle power.

　　The bullet had been deeply embedded in the flesh, something that would normally require surgery to remove.

　　But now, Catherine Turner simply shrugged it out, as if brushing off a fly.

　　The bleeding also stopped miraculously.

　　Even after being shot, Catherine Turner was completely unaffected. With a sudden step, her foot and five toes exerted force, sending power surging through her entire body.

　　Whoosh! Her whole body darted forward like a snake slithering through grass.

　　“Snake Parts the Grass”—the snake form footwork from the Twelve Animal Forms of Xingyiquan—was performed by Catherine Turner to perfection.

　　William Young watched as Catherine Turner casually shrugged out the bullet from her body, as if seeing a ghost. “Your kung fu has reached your very bones!”

　　He had just spoken when, in a flash, Catherine Turner was upon him.

　　William Young actually knew kung fu as well. His right leg snapped out, delivering a whip kick that cracked through the air.

　　Catherine Turner didn’t take it head-on. Using the “Snake Sways Its Body” move, she swayed aside, letting the whip kick brush past her face.

　　William Young’s kick missed, and he agilely bounced back, about to draw another gun to shoot, but Catherine Turner gave him no chance.

　　She squatted, reaching for his groin—“Monkey Steals the Peach.” This was the killing move Catherine Turner had taught Charles Warren.

　　William Young’s senses were sharp. Even before Catherine Turner could grab him, he felt a chill in his groin. But with the garage wall behind him, he had nowhere to retreat.

　　At this critical moment, William Young also squatted, clamping his legs together, hands protecting his groin, and with a flick of his five fingers, he managed to seize Catherine Turner’s hand.

　　Catherine Turner’s hand, planted on the ground between her legs, suddenly slapped down like a python’s tail striking the earth.

　　The garage’s solid terrazzo floor cracked inch by inch under her palm, shattering into many small fragments.

　　She squatted and grabbed sand—though there was no sand on the ground, Catherine Turner used hidden force to shatter the terrazzo, creating sand.

　　Scooping up the terrazzo fragments, Catherine Turner flung them in one motion—a handful of sand and pebbles shot out like a rain of arrows, striking William Young’s face.

　　Sand got into William Young’s eyes, and he immediately couldn’t open them. But his martial artist’s instincts made him resist fiercely.

　　Catherine Turner quickly executed a move—“Dragon Raises Its Head.” Her hand, which had been reaching for the groin, suddenly transformed from a claw to a palm, five fingers together, darting up from the abdomen like the flat head of a venomous snake, striking at Jack Young’s chin.

　　William Young heard the wind and immediately jerked his head up.

　　Catherine Turner changed again—“Dragon Raises Its Head” became “Two Dragons Seize the Pearl,” and two fingers jabbed into William Young’s eyes.

　　William Young’s eyes were blinded, his eyeballs hanging from their sockets like purple grapes, blood streaming down his face.

　　He collapsed to the ground, his throat making a bellows-like sound.

　　“You... your arm was shot... why is there no effect... at all?”

　　Catherine Turner glanced at her wound. “My kung fu has reached my bones. That shot of yours was like a regular person peeling fruit and nicking the skin. I don’t even need a band-aid.”

　　“Guo... Yun... Shen... said... there are three ways to train martial arts... obvious force... hidden force... and transforming force... and three levels of skill... changing bones... changing tendons... changing... marrow... Have you already trained your power into your marrow... tell... me... how can I get kung fu into my bones...”

　　Catherine Turner knew William Young wouldn’t survive. “After mastering hidden force, you must use sound to resonate, using sound to vibrate the bone marrow.”

　　William Young’s body trembled, and he spoke with difficulty: “What... what... sound...”

　　Catherine Turner uttered four words: “Tiger-Leopard Thunder Sound.”

　　“So... that’s it... send me on my way...”

　　“Wait, what organization are you from? How did you know I came to the mainland?” Catherine Turner asked.

　　“Sorry... it’s business... we have...”

　　“That leg technique you just used, and the move where you protected your groin by clamping your legs—though the moves are ordinary, you used the force of Wing Chun. Who is your master?”