Taoist priest goes to America

Ang Lee stared at the workers who had been drinking and the woman in the red jacket who had fallen to the ground. He had just taken a step forward when the wind behind him changed direction.

That wasn't an ordinary punch; it was heavier, faster, and carried a deadly ferocity. Li An didn't turn around. He leaned forward, his right foot sharply hooking upwards and backwards in a scorpion-like kick, the sole of his shoe precisely striking the attacker's face from behind.

The attacker behind him staggered after being kicked by Li An. Li An pressed his advantage, turning his right foot downwards and piercing the attacker's crotch with his toe like an iron pickaxe.

"Crack—" A crisp sound of an egg breaking rang out. No man could endure such pain, but the attacker acted as if nothing had happened, twisting his waist to push away Li An's foot.

"Oh?" Li An was surprised. Taking advantage of the momentum of being pushed aside, he flipped forward, braced himself with his right hand, and rolled over the old man's corpse in the aisle.

When Ang Lee knelt on the ground and turned around, he saw that the narcissistic white woman was still sitting in her seat.

The one who made the move was the black boyfriend. He was standing in the middle of the aisle, and his fist slammed into the spot where Li An had just been standing, passing through the back of the bus seat.

The plastic backrest had been smashed with a hole, its edges cracked like a spider web, and his fist was stuck inside, protruding through the hole.

Ang Lee stood up, and his Black boyfriend pulled his fist out of the seat back, plastic shards falling from between his fingers. The back of his hand was scraped, revealing dark red muscle underneath, and blood was gushing out, dripping onto the bus floor.

The black boyfriend looked at Ang Lee. One of his eyeballs had been ruptured by Ang Lee's back kick. His right eye socket was empty and bleeding continuously, while his left eye still had that empty look.

The black boyfriend's lips twitched, as if he were smiling, or as if his muscles were twitching, as if someone was pulling his face with a string.

The white woman also stood up; her movements were slower than her black boyfriend's, yet as fluid as flowing water.

She slid out of her seat and stood in the middle of the aisle, less than two meters away from Li An. She looked at Li An, her expression still unfocused, but the focus of her gaze had changed. She was no longer looking at Li An's face; she was staring at his neck.

The Black boyfriend made the first move. He leaned forward, bracing himself against the seat back with his left hand, and kicked at Ang Lee's abdomen with his right foot. It was fast, but the movement was too big. Ang Lee turned to his left, and the foot kicked past his waist, striking the armrest of the back seat.

The welded steel handrail was bent by the kick, making a sharp sound of metal deformation.

Ang Lee's right hand made a slashing motion down the side of his calf, the blade cutting through the denim fabric with a short, sharp tearing sound.

Blood seeped from the cut, and the Black boyfriend's leg swayed, but he didn't pull it back.

His right hand slapped towards Ang Lee's head from the side, palm open, fingers straight, like a fan.

Li An looked down, and the hand fanned him from above, the wind blowing up his hair.

The white woman moved at that moment. She darted out from behind her black boyfriend with incredible speed, her right hand clawing towards Ang Lee's neck.

Ang Lee remained calm, neither dodging nor avoiding the attack. He stretched out his right hand and forcefully pulled down the metal handrail that her black boyfriend had just kicked askew, then used it to block the view in front of him.

"Clang—" A sound of metal clashing rang out as the white woman's taut hand struck the metal armrest, sending up a small ball of sparks. The powerful impact caused the nails of her three middle fingers to shatter and fly off in fragments.

The three manicured nails instantly turned into three bloody, mangled fingers. The white woman's body trembled instinctively from the pain, but her face remained expressionless. Instead, she stretched out her right hand and flung the blood gushing from her three fingers into Li An's eyes, intending to blind him with blood.

Ang Lee ducked down to avoid the blood splattering towards his eyes, then took a step forward and swung the metal armrest of his right hand upwards towards the white woman's right cheek.

As Ang Lee lashed out, the white woman quickly raised her other, undamaged hand to shield her face, intending to take the heavy blow head-on.

"Thump—" The cold metal armrest struck her hand bones, producing a dull thud like blunt instruments hitting each other and the sound of bones cracking.

The white woman's hand then twisted and deformed, and her palm turned bluish-black.

Although he successfully blocked the attack with his palm, Ang Lee's immense strength meant that the momentum of the metal handrail didn't stop, and it slapped the white woman's face along with her palm.

The powerful metal handrail sent the white woman flying through the air, past the seat, smashing through the half-open window, and landing outside the car with her face covered in shards of glass.

"Heh—heh—" The woman in the red jacket who had been knocked down by the worker got up from the ground and glared at Li An with a low growl. Her right hand, which had been twisted by the car, was still swaying from side to side, splattering countless drops of blood.

The woman in the red jacket, her face riddled with glass, looked ferocious, like a demon lunging at Ang Lee from the front, her mouth agape as she tried to bite him.

Faced with this horrifying scene, Ang Lee expressionlessly tossed aside the metal handrail in his hand, reached behind him, pulled out a Glock pistol, and shoved it into her open mouth.

When the gun was pressed against her palate, Ang Lee pulled the trigger.

With a bang, a bullet pierced the back of her head, and red liquid spurted out from the back of her head, spraying onto the back of the seat behind her.

The woman in the red jacket fell straight backward, her head hitting the floor. She twitched briefly, then remained still.

Ang Lee glanced at the blood-stained pistol in his hand; it seemed this thing was still the most effective.

Just then, the black boyfriend behind him turned around and launched a second sneak attack from behind. This time it was a straight punch, his right fist slamming towards Ang Lee's back.

Ang Lee's left hand didn't have time to put away the gun, but his right hand had already slashed at his right fist with a knife.

The blade sliced ​​into the space between his fingers, getting stuck between his index and middle fingers, unable to be pulled out. The black boyfriend's right fist didn't stop; he pushed the knife-like motion forward, then switched to his left fist and continued to smash towards Li An's chest, the knife-like motion cutting deeper and deeper into his palm.

Ang Lee leaned to the right, and his left fist grazed past his left shoulder before hitting the car window behind him.

The glass shattered, and his hand was trapped in the car window frame. Glass shards pierced the back of the Black man's hand and wrist, but he did not pull away.

Ang Lee raised his left hand and pressed the muzzle of the gun against his Black boyfriend's temple.

He pulled the trigger, and the bullet entered through his left temple, exited from his right side, and struck the window of the car opposite.

The Black boyfriend's body swayed slightly, but he didn't fall. His eyes were still on Ang Lee, and he raised his left hand, reaching for Ang Lee's neck.

Ang Lee took a half step back, aimed at the head, and fired five shots, each one hitting the temple.

After five shots, the Black boyfriend's body finally gave way and he collapsed, his head hitting the floor with a thud.

Ang Lee tucked the Glock back into his waistband, pulled the knife from his black boyfriend's hand, and wiped the blood on the back of the seat.

Ang Lee looked at the middle-aged woman still lying on the ground, massaging her feet. This culprit was moaning and twisting her fat body on the ground.

When Ang Lee stepped forward, he realized that his initial move had probably injured the woman's back, making it impossible for her to stand up.

Ang Lee crouched down and pressed the muzzle of his Glock directly against her palm.

He pulled the trigger, and a gunshot rang out in the carriage. The bullet pierced the old woman's palm, leaving a hole in the floor. A hole exploded in her palm, and the pain made her instantly pull her hand back.