Ling Han casually threw a slap, and pa, the fatty wielding the saber was sent flying.
"Huh?" The swordsman, Old Zhang's expression stiffened. He thought that the fatso was showing off, but no matter how he showed off, there was no reason to take a slap from the other party—it instantly raised his vigilance.
"This kid is strange!" the saber-wielding fatty said as he got up, stroking his hurting face.
"Strange where?" Old Zhang asked.
"His strength is strangely large, when he held on to my wrist just now, I couldn't even get free," the saber-wielding fatso said truthfully with his face was on fire; if he tried to lie to save his face, it might get them both killed.
"Could it be an inborn gift like surprising physical power?" the sword-wielding Old Zhang speculated.
"It should be so. His presence is definitely just that of the first layer of the Element Gathering Tier," the saber-wielding fatso said with complete certainty.