Christian Cox and others couldn't help but break down in tears."Why? Ahhh..."Soon, this incident shook the martial arts world. Countless Martial Arts Masters were stunned, marveling at Martial Saint's discernment. The disciple he had chosen was indeed formidable!Possessing limitless potential and a promising future!Long after, when Albert awoke from his unconscious state and learned of this tragic, humiliating outcome, though his life was spared, his eyes were hollow, like a walking corpse. He had lost not just the match but all his arrogance, confidence, and perhaps even his soul!Representing Arm Fist Boxing, he no longer wished to continue. Forget being incapable, this single battle had repaid his dues. Martial Saint's disciple was indeed spectacular and formidable."Cough...cough!" Albert coughed up some blood. He knew that from this day forth, his martial path might be severed by half.Becoming one of the top ten Martial Arts Masters was now a distant dream!"Let's go. Hen
Had any denizens of the underworld witnessed Jackson Gray stripping off his mask, they would have gasped in disbelief. For he was the legendary figure rumored to lurk unseen in one's midst, his true identity forever obscured – the man known as Thousand Faces, ranked ninth among assassins.A formidable presence in that dark realm, Thousand Faces excelled in disguise, capable of seamless deception. Impersonating Jason was child's play. His most astounding feat involved living an entire year posing as a wealthy tycoon, undetected until he wearied of the charade and slipped, revealing his true nature.None were more stunned than the tycoon's wife, who had shared his bed for nearly a year, oblivious her husband had been supplanted – a mere thought that chilled the bones...Yet here stood the infamous Thousand Faces, revered in the underworld, deferentially addressing Jason with an obsequious smile. "Boss, that Albert was small fry. Why all this trouble when disposing of him would have been
Jason's gaze hardened as his face darkened with a cold scoff. "So you killed him, then tried framing me? But I don't understand – if you meant to provoke the Northern Faction against me, why reveal yourselves now?"In his view, having achieved their aim, they could have simply watched the tigers battle from the mountain. Why this unnecessary escalation?Unless their scheme truly was incomplete, and he was the missing piece!The diminutive elder and the masked man sneered mockingly. "Simple – if we're going to play, we may as well go big. What fun is pitting the Northern Faction against you? But if you die, and they're framed for it? Now that would be entertaining!""Just imagine – Martial Saint's disciple slain by the Northern Faction. As his master, the esteemed Martial Saint would surely unleash his wrath. Not only would it conceal our true intent, but it would throw the entire martial world into chaos! Why not seize such an opportunity?"Hearing this, Jason froze, his expression da
Legend told of his bitter enmity with the Black Lotus Sect, never once showing mercy to its adherents. "He...he's Martial Saint?" Poseidon's mind reeled into stupefaction as shrill terror contorted his features. Without hesitation, he too turned to flee, drenched in a cold sweat.One man, one title – yet enough to paralyze two formidable foes with dread. Likely only Martial Saint could inspire such reaction. "A pack of vermin plotting against me, and you think to flee?" The unassuming man's eyes flashed with arctic chill as he moved, a blur.Before Poseidon could gather his wits, that imposing figure loomed before him. Too swift – a sweeping palm struck, effortlessly swatting him skyward like swatting a gnat. Fragile, pitiful – a mere flick of the wrist from a colossus against a child.With a muted thump, Poseidon crumpled unconscious, his mask shattering upon impact."No!" Vulcan shrieked in horror, eyes bulging as one of similar prowess was rendered a beaten wretch with trivial e
The master he spoke of remained a shadowy enigma. Jason's sole impression was of profound mystery, ignorant of that elder's identity or current whereabouts.That curative prowess, those arcane disciplines – all had issued from that source, whose mastery likely rivaled even Martial Saint's renown."Very well, I expected as much – you declined me once before, after all." Martial Saint shrugged dismissively. "But if you ever change your mind, you need only say the word." "He...he actually refused? More than once?" Vulcan's mind reeled, utterly dumbstruck. To reject Martial Saint's offer of tutelage? Such folly defied comprehension!Were word of this to spread, the outcry would be deafening – to spurn such a peerless opportunity branded one as woefully short-sighted, unworthy of the privilege.To serve as Martial Saint's disciple eluded most; even tending to his most mundane needs would be an honor to die for!"Enough of that. How did you come to be here? Wait – you witnessed the match?
Susan could only shake her head in bemused exasperation. "Well, what did you make of this Mr. Gray? Is he your type?" Her words brought a flush of crimson to Emily's cheeks as she bashfully confessed, "More or less. A real man – the very embodiment of the heroic ideal I've envisioned." "Compared to that Edward Reed, Mr. Gray outshines him a hundredfold. I'm resolved – having encountered someone so captivating, I cannot let this chance slip away. This Mr. Gray, I must have him for my own!""Cough...cough..." Jason nearly choked, utterly dumbstruck.What madness was this? Emily intended to pursue Martial Saint's disciple – his own alter ego? This abrupt revelation left his mind reeling. Surely the script had deviated wildly off course!"Emily, perhaps you should reconsider," he coughed delicately, offering mild dissuasion. "I thought brash, uncouth types held no appeal for you?"Susan too concurred – such matters warranted grave deliberation lest mere infatuation obscure pragmatic j
Catching his boastful tone, Jason sighed and shook his head. "Dad, you've been duped - it's a ploy. You think you profited, but they intentionally preyed on your overconfidence, baiting a self-proclaimed expert like yourself.""Moreover, the real 'Bamboo in Ink' sold for $5 million years ago. This one cannot be authentic!"Jason spoke with conviction not because the painting was his, but a gift from a sycophant years past. He had merely glanced at it before stowing it away, having little interest - but he knew no one would dare deceive him with a forgery."$5 million?" James Brown and Mary Martinez cried out, one aghast, the other thunderstruck."Impossible! My eye cannot be so mistaken! Look at the brushwork, the spirit, the verve - every leaf rendered with genius only Wen Tong could achieve! It cannot be a fake!""And how could you, a worthless fool, know of the 'Bamboo in Ink' auction before I did? Do you imagine your information supersedes mine?" James Brown raged, more desperate
"What brings you gentlemen here today? Some rare find, perhaps?" the clerk mocked brazenly."Pah, a 'find'? You mock us, swindlers - selling counterfeits to defraud me!" James Brown flushed crimson with rage at the taunting tone."Sir, such baseless accusations are unbecoming," the clerk raised his voice derisively. "A willing buyer, a willing seller - we forced nothing upon you. If you purchased a forgery, it merely exposes your own lack of expertise. A sore loser's bleating holds no weight here!"Scenarios like this were hardly novel, yet those seeking recompense inevitably slunk away, cowed by this establishment's formidable clout. At the moment of purchase, they fancied themselves cunning - but it was a devious stratagem ensnaring the gullible and foolish. How could such windfalls simply fall into your lap? Your ilk was the very prey being hunted."You...!" James Brown's face purpled, yet he could muster no retort, a raging fire smoldering within.Observing this, Jason interjected