A Scroll of Infinite Glory

Chapter 88 The Origin of Sword and Fist

The continuous explosions kicked up plumes of thick black smoke.

Wearing masks and helmets, the Ghost Cry team members rushed into the Tao Zhu Building with their respective equipment.

On the top floors of the building, Guan Luoyang, though alone, was able to crush these celebrities and villains with the most intense offensive. He moved like the wind and was invincible. The Ghost Cry team members, of course, did not possess such martial prowess.

However, their teamwork makes them more meticulous and planned when launching surprise attacks.

Some broke into the building directly from the ground floor to carry out demolitions and feints, while others used grappling hooks and other climbing devices to reach a certain height, break through the glass, and rush into the stairwell to search for and ambush.

The high-ranking officials who fled in panic from the upper echelons were killed in droves by their guns and bombs. The events went so smoothly that even they themselves found it hard to believe.

"Amitabha, Guanyin, thank you! This time it was so easy to succeed."

His facial features were completely hidden under the helmet and mask; only his burly physique and hoarse, husky voice suggested that the speaker was a middle-aged man.

He led two assistants to block the stairwell and unleashed a barrage of fire, killing or wounding most of the unsuspecting escapees.

At the corner of the stairs, just as the modified martial artists realized what was happening and were about to counterattack, the three of them tacitly threw out an explosive, charged bomb and quickly lunged to the side.

Boom!!

The explosion's flames and flashes of electricity danced simultaneously in this section of the corridor, accompanied by the stench of burning plastic and copper wire, billowing outwards with black smoke.

"When I get back, I'll offer more incense and candles to the Bodhisattva!"

The man with the smoky voice pounded the floor and got up, his voice excited and barely contained.

For the past six months or so, they have been traveling around assassinating people. Each time, they disguised themselves as local biker gangs and were identified as having engaged in common gang fights. Kong Qingyun used his connections in the Ministry of State Security to help cover it up and confuse the public.

Even their official name, "Ghost Cry Team," is known only to themselves.

The reason they acted so cautiously was ultimately because their strength was still weak. Once they revealed that they were not gang members, but righteous people who wanted to take revenge on these evil parties, they would soon attract the attention of more gangs, putting the Ghost Cry Team in a dangerous situation where they were surrounded by enemies.

Therefore, in their original plan, they never intended to directly attack Tao Zhu Building. Instead, they planned to wait until the banquet ended and everyone was relaxed and returning home before ambushing a few of their targets.

Tonight's victory was a pleasant surprise, and the team's core members felt that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that they could not afford to waste and were determined to achieve the greatest possible win.

The man with the smoky voice quickly reunited with his companions and headed towards a commercial area to the right.

The lower 30 floors of the Tao Zhu Building house various shops, restaurants, and other establishments available for rent.

The floor they're on now seems to mainly sell clothes, handbags, and cosmetics.

The display cases in the area in front had been shattered by bomb shrapnel, with various cosmetics and perfumes scattered among the broken glass and burning clothes.

Some of their companions were already engaged in combat and had reached a stalemate, but with the reinforcements brought by the husky-voiced man, the situation was immediately turned around.

Among the security personnel opposite, a nimble figure quietly slipped to the side.

Lang Feiyan moved like a nimble black cat, landing silently, preparing to circle around the rows of clothes racks and shelves to ambush the husky-voiced man and his companions.

However, on the Ghost Cry Team's side, someone had been keeping a close eye on her from the very beginning.

despair!!

A sense of danger caused Lang Feiyan to reverse her light steps, bend her waist like a bow, and flip backward.

Gunshots rang out, and cluster munitions were fired, forming a cone-shaped scattering attack that tore through the expensive fur coat, sparking against the metal shelves opposite and leaving numerous holes.

The shelf on the side was hit by Lang Feiyan's kick, and it flew up, carrying more than a dozen pieces of clothing as it crashed into the gunman.

The gunman was wearing a hoodie and a white helmet, with a windshield lowered in front of him. He was thin and short, and quickly turned his gun around.

But suddenly an arm swung up from under the clothes rack.

The bionic arm with its well-proportioned bones and flesh, the sleeves like black gauze, the delicate skin, and even the nails painted with red nail polish—it must belong to a beauty.

But the upward thrust of those slender fingers shattered the central structure of the gun, causing the handle to fly out of her hand.

Lang Feiyan's arm swept upwards, severing the shelf in half. As more than a dozen pieces of clothing scattered and flew about, her other hand lashed out with a swift, serpentine motion.

The edge of the five fingers sliced ​​off more than half of the windshield on the gunman's helmet.

A martial art called Bancasila was popular in the East Kalimantan Allied Kingdoms. It was based on imitating many wild animals in nature, most commonly monkeys, white eagles, tigers, and pythons and venomous snakes.

When Lang Feiyan swung her arms, it was like a venomous snake leaping about, and when she changed her footwork, it was like a tiger pouncing, slapping, and sweeping its tail.

The gunman also possessed mechanical arms, but he was completely outmatched by his opponent's fighting skills. He dodged the heavy stomp that was enough to crush steel plates, but failed to dodge the low kick.

They could only back out in an almost rolling motion.

As her comrades raised their guns to provide support, Lang Feiyan dodged the barrage of fire with a swift movement. She lowered herself as if touching the ground, and with a long leg, she swept out, kicking the gunman in the face.

Numerous garment hems swayed, and shredded fabric and down from the shooting scattered everywhere.

The gunman, who was lying on the ground, blocked the kick with his arms crossed, slid a distance away, and suddenly slammed his clenched fists into the ground.

Tiny cracks appeared on the smooth tiles, and Lang Feiyan clearly heard the sound of the spring-loaded contact switch of the electric bomb being triggered.

Using two bombs at that distance is practically suicide.

Lang Feiyan's pupils contracted slightly, her waist sprang up, and she hurriedly stood up and shot backward.

The opponent threw a bomb, which exploded in mid-air before it could catch up with Lang Feiyan, sending fragments and arcs of electricity flying everywhere.

The thin, gunman rolled away, his helmet falling off to reveal a ponytail tied with a rubber band, and blood from his mouth staining his mask.

Lang Feiyan fell to the ground, staggered a couple of steps, and the bionic skin on her two long legs was blasted and charred, with the metal skeleton even showing at her knees.

The injury wasn't actually serious, but the high-voltage arc from the stored-charge bomb affected the True Spirit Machinery, causing her to have a severe headache.

In that instant, someone slashed her from behind.

A 40-centimeter-long dagger was drawn and sheathed in less than half a second.

Lang Feiyan turned around stiffly, and the long, narrow wound on her back burst open, spurting out blood.

The true spiritual energy transmitted along the spinal nerves caused her to lose control of her lower limbs after her lumbar vertebrae were cut diagonally.

Snapped!

Lang Feiyan fell to the ground, and the group of people she brought with her had been wiped out.

The man with torn hair and a mask, wielding a short knife, ran to help the injured woman with a ponytail to her feet. His voice was young: "How are you?"

"I...I..."

The girl with the ponytail ripped off her mask, spat out a mouthful of blood, and stared at Lang Feiyan. "Vice Captain, is she dead?"

"He's still breathing."

The deputy captain helped her over and pulled a triangular military dagger from his calf and handed it to her.

The girl with the ponytail, gripping a military dagger in both hands, fell onto Lang Feiyan, the dagger piercing her chest.

Lang Feiyan, who was already bleeding profusely, did not react violently to the stab; she only twitched slightly. She looked up and saw the girl with the ponytail filled with hatred, and smiled inexplicably.

"What are you laughing at?"

The girl with the ponytail twirled the military dagger. "Do you remember Li Zhang from Zhenyuan Newspaper? He was arrested by your men for exposing the inside story of your hospital, and then killed by a child... And you're still laughing!"

"I don't remember, but there are many people like you who can't live a good life because of me, while I live a wonderful life. Well, that makes me happy."

Lang Feiyan's smile, amidst the frenzied rise and fall of the military dagger, became spasmodic, twisted, ugly, and eventually icy cold.

The vice-captain pressed down on the girl with the ponytail's shoulder: "Alright, this kind of scum is best killed. It's not worth it for you to continue to be upset over her words."

"I've given you half a minute. The other teams have already advanced to the next level. There's no time to waste. Old Nine, your hand is injured too. Take Little Li and leave first. The rest of you continue."

The people around responded and left the sales area, heading straight for the nearest staircase.

Suddenly, the people at the front were sent flying backward without warning, crashing into the ceiling and their companions behind them.

At the top of the stairs, Liu Jingtang held a black pager in his hand, looking down at it with an inscrutable expression.

He kept listening to the commotion on the other end of the pager, hearing the Fan family father and son storm onto the rooftop, and hearing Fan Minzhi's shouts.

Then came the howling wind and the sounds of collisions, as Fan Buchou's fist techniques rose to their peak with the sound of the steam whistle.

Just now, as he stepped onto this floor, a loud bang shattered the pager on the other end, and all sound came to an abrupt halt.

In that instant, he casually knocked several members of the Ghost Cry team away.

As Liu Jingtang went upstairs, he had encountered these gunfight scenes before, but he was so focused on getting to the rooftop that he ignored them and no one could see his whereabouts.

But now... Fan Buchou... is probably dead, right?

Liu Jingtang seemed lost in his own thoughts, somewhat absent-minded.

The members of the Ghost Cry team, whose comrade he had injured, had all raised their guns.

Gunfire was as dense as raindrops, and bullets, like hundreds of chaotic flashes, riddled the area with holes.

Liu Jingtang moved only one step to the side, thus avoiding the hail of bullets.

Even at this banquet, he was still wearing that trench coat. In the gust of wind, he turned around as easily as a stream flowing around a stone, and entered the Ghost Cry team from another angle.

Several more team members were sent flying.

The vice-captain pressed his knee down and leaned his upper body forward. In the instant his comrade was sent flying, he pressed his left thumb on the red button on the scabbard at his waist.

The scabbard, resembling a short, silvery-white stick, has a multi-layered geometric pattern on its surface, clearly composed of different parts, with many electronic components hidden inside.

The electric current connects, electromagnetic induction accelerates, and the magnetized metal blade is ejected from its sheath.

The timing of the force applied by the hand holding the knife was flawless. The ejection force from the scabbard and the force of the mechanical arm worked together to change the trajectory of the straight shot and accelerate the strike again.

A new chapter in the Shinto Munen-ryu school: the twelve-inch electromagnetic sword-drawing technique!

The blade flashed so fast it seemed to disappear without a trace, then stopped.

The sound of the blade being drawn from its sheath rang out, and a very faint wisp of white smoke rose from the mouth of the scabbard.

The vice-captain's face showed disbelief.

His sword strike was learned from a boastful Japanese ancient-style swordsmanship teacher at the Singapore-Malaysia-Hong Kong Children's Palace; in fact, it was a unique skill that even the teacher himself had not mastered.

Once he mastered the technique, he was virtually invincible, even once cutting a missile in half before it could explode.

But today, this knife was actually caught by the person in front of me with just three fingers.

These are Liu Jingtang's right thumb, index finger, and middle finger.

Although the bionic skin on his fingers couldn't withstand the sudden pressure and cracked in several places, the man in the trench coat who took the blow still looked absent-minded, with his left hand still holding a pager.

Ding! !

The blade snapped, the broken piece piercing through the vice-captain's left shoulder. The impact caused his entire body to lean backward.

The broken blade flew nearly a hundred meters and pierced through the glass curtain wall.

The only mark left on the tempered glass was a small chip where the knife tip pierced through, without any cracks spreading outwards.

The Ghost Cry team members around them unanimously pulled out the charged explosives from their belts, wanting to take the person in front of them down with them.

Fortunately, before their bombs could be detonated, the ceiling trembled.

A beam of silver light pierced through the ceiling, drawing a circle, and cut through the thick concrete and the thick steel bars inside, creating a large hole in the ceiling with a diameter of nearly half a meter.

Kong Qingyun stepped on the concrete and crashed down, now holding a three-foot-long thin sword that was only as thick as a thumb.

"You all go downstairs first."

With a deliberately altered, rough voice, carrying a familiar quality that convinced all team members, the injured person was immediately pulled away.

Kong Qingyun stared at Liu Jingtang without blinking.

Beneath the listless and indifferent demeanor of this man in the trench coat lies a dangerous aura that is about to crumble.

Kong Qingyun felt this oppressive aura from upstairs, which is why he chose to break through the floor and rush down.

Before the group of team members could all leave, just a dozen meters away, Liu Jingtang's eyes twitched, and Kong Qingyun preemptively made his move.

With a flick of its wrist, the slender sword in Kong Qingyun's hand suddenly transformed into nearly a hundred streaks of light, like silver beams leaping in all directions, shooting towards Liu Jingtang.

The sword in his hand is a byproduct of True Spirit Mechanical Technology.

For a long time, high-end research laboratories in various countries have been discussing how to enable the conduction of true spiritual energy outside the human body. An academic salon in Northern Europe has explored a synthetic material called "pearl steel".

Although this material cannot meet the requirement of "continuous transmission of true spiritual energy outside the body", it has extremely unique properties. Under the stimulation of true spiritual energy, it can transform from a state as soft as spider silk to a state as hard as diamond.

Since obtaining this material, Kong Qingyun has devoted himself to its study and application.

The shift between extreme softness and extreme hardness makes his swordplay unpredictable. Wherever his true spiritual energy reaches, cutting through ordinary firearms and bulletproof cars is as easy as cutting tofu.

Liu Jingtang's expression also became more serious. He used both hands together, and the pager in his left hand was cut into four pieces by the flash of the sword.

His arms and fingers moved in perfect coordination, as nimbly as brushing dew off rose petals at night. His arms danced with afterimages, and his fingers always deftly deflected the swiftly flying, shimmering slender swords.

Not to mention swords, it seems that even the invisible and intangible wind, when it flows to Liu Jingtang, will be stopped by the operation of his hands.

As a result, a blurry circular wall of air appeared in front of him, its edges seemingly still floating and expanding.

All things take advantage of the situation to block the stream and stop its flow!

Kong Qingyun's sword light could only create ripples on it, but he seemed to have been waiting for a long time. The moment the circular wall of energy appeared, he suddenly turned around.

The rapier in his hand reached its most solid state during this spinning process.

The scene of him turning around and flicking his wrist was like an antelope looking back, a celestial horse raising its hooves, his swordsmanship at its most powerful state, bursting out with a sharp thrust.

The sword was so fast that it was almost invisible; only the light from its tip, like raindrops made of diamond, struck the air wall in dense, overwhelming patterns.

All things borrow power, and rain falls on the mountain streams!

This sword technique and Liu Jingtang's fist technique actually have a kind of mutual reinforcement and mutual restraint.

Liu Jingtang's expression changed drastically. The barrier of energy in front of him shattered, and sword light, like raindrops of diamonds, shot straight towards his face.

The chill had already seeped into the center of my brow.

BOOM!!!

Kong Qingyun flew backward, knocking over the remaining row of shelves like dominoes, the thuds echoing far and wide.

He rolled over, half-sitting on the shelf, using his sword for support. He coughed violently twice, then looked up and muttered in disbelief, "What is that?"

In his vision, Liu Jingtang was covered in subtle electric sparks, flickering and flashing, while a colorless, ghostly aura writhed around him.

"It's just the second type of situation, nothing to be surprised about."

Liu Jingtang's eyelids fluttered slightly, and he actually answered his question.

That's right, no one has ever said that everything can leverage a particular force, but there can only be one force.

However, True Spirit Mechanical Technology has only existed for a little over forty years. Among the six billion people in the world, very few can even grasp the existence of "momentum," and even fewer can understand it.

So much so that Kong Qingyun never even considered how to seek or acquire the second kind of power.

But, in front of Liu Jingtang, what was it about that sword strike that made him change color?

It's not about power, but about origin.

"Although the sword technique incorporates many miscellaneous elements, its foundation is still based on the Dai family's Xingyi Quan school, specifically the horse-style sword technique created by the former master, Dai Tianliu."

Liu Jingtang's voice was low as he slowly approached, each step he took causing the tiles to crack silently.

"Which junior brother are you?"

"Junior brother?"

Kong Qingyun laughed sarcastically, "You traitor who went against the old master's last wishes, do you even deserve to call me that?"

Liu Jingtang's eyes twitched, and he looked furious: "Don't want to talk? That's fine, once I take off your mask, it will be clear."

Kong Qingyun laughed twice, his mockery unchanged.

Just as Liu Jingtang was about to make a move, a magnificent shadow fell straight down from outside the glass curtain wall.

Guan Luoyang, riding a missile launcher, descended from a height of 300 meters to this spot, leaped, crashed through the glass curtain wall, and burst into the mall.

Large panes of glass, three or four meters high, shattered completely and were swept away by the strong wind.

Guan Luoyang covered the nearly 100-meter distance in two steps and blasted Liu Jingtang back with a palm strike.

"Hahaha, I was so annoyed that we couldn't start fighting right away last time. I was just wondering where to find you when I felt your imposing presence."

Guan Luoyang stood in front of Kong Qingyun and waved.

"Come on, let's beat you to death, then we'll finally have a stable situation today."

Two rubber tracks rubbing against the tile, emitting blue smoke, stretched for more than ten meters, from a step in front of Guan Luoyang to the sole of Liu Jingtang's shoe.

"It's you. Now that you've come down, it seems the Fan family father and son are truly dead."

Liu Jingtang had not finished speaking.

Guan Luoyang has already made his move.

(End of this chapter)