บท 277: Brittle bones

As the dagger pressed in, the Japanese man felt an unexplainable massive oppression against his hand. The dagger distorted and flew out of his hand, the webbing between his fingers stained with blood.

Yet Sheyan's fist didn't stop there, whizzing forward with a violent oppression, threatening to explode in the Jap's face. The Jap curled his arms into a perfect defensive posture, like he had gone through wrestling training before.

But it was futile.

It couldn't even delay the blow slightly.

With the might of 4 times the average man, his fist collided heavily. It was identical to fate, nothing could stop it! So what if his defence was perfectly positioned? The Japanese man was instantly sent flying, his head slamming into the wall behind. Slumping to the ground, he left behind an awful sickening blood stain on the wall! If he wasn't dead, he would be crippled at least!