Martial Dao: Peace by Force

Chapter 154: Chapter 123: Devouring People

"This Sun Weilong has practiced Fist Technique for twenty years. He’s an expert and will be extremely difficult to handle..."

Zhao You’s voice was hushed, and he had a grim look on his face.

He stood turned to the side.

His gaze pierced through the crack in the door, watching the men confronting his boss, Tie Qingyang, inside. He seemed to be assessing the situation.

The main door to the hall was open just a crack. The light spilling out sliced across Zhao You’s face, drawing a sharp line between shadow and light.

"What if we use a gun? Could we kill him with one?" Tie Feiyang leaned in, his eyes also fixed on the activity visible through the crack. His voice was even more hushed than Zhao You’s, but his gaze was different.

Fierce, with a hint of wildness.

Away from Wan Ze’s presence, this adopted son, raised by Tie Qingyang himself, finally showed his fangs.

"A gun?"

Zhao You pulled his gaze away. He gently placed a hand on the doorknob and turned to look at Tie Feiyang, his expression like he was looking at a clueless greenhorn.

But he suppressed his exasperation and said softly, "When a martial artist’s training reaches a certain point, they usually practice Horizontal Training. Against a Martial Artist of that caliber... do you really think a gun would be effective?"

Tie Feiyang was stunned. "Even a gun is useless?"

He had never really been exposed to High Tier Martial Artists.

He had grown up under Tie Qingyang’s wing, and the people he knew were all in the business. He’d seen fights and killings, and he’d even used a gun before.

In his experience, a gun could solve most problems.

If one shot didn’t work, try two. If two shots didn’t work, use a shotgun.

But what Zhao You was saying...

Zhao You patted his shoulder and sighed, his tone complicated and hard to describe. "The Old Master used to be a Refining Viscera Martial Artist; that’s how he built this empire. Refining Viscera... that’s a true Martial Artist. People like us in the Blood Tempering Realm are, at best, just Disciples. Errand boys."

Tie Feiyang froze.

A name suddenly popped into his head.

Wan Ze.

He’d met Brother Wan a few times... and the power he sometimes revealed inadvertently was truly unsettling.

’That’s right, Brother Wan caught a bullet with his bare hands!’

’So is Brother Wan in the Refining Viscera Realm?’

As Tie Feiyang’s mind raced, he remembered something else and asked in a low voice, "Then... is this Sun Weilong at the Refining Viscera Realm?"

Zhao You shook his head.

"Huh? He’s not?" Tie Feiyang instantly breathed a sigh of relief, the tension on his face easing. "Then what the hell are we worried about? If he’s not at the Refining Viscera Realm, then he can’t be that much better than the Old Master, right? If it comes down to it, we’ll just fight. Who’s afraid of who?"

But Zhao You’s expression was anything but relieved.

He stared at Tie Feiyang and gave a frustrated laugh. "Feiyang, you’re always with the Old Master in the Holy City. You don’t get out much, so you have no idea how dangerous this Sun Weilong is."

Tie Feiyang was taken aback by his tone, and the breath he’d just released caught in his throat again. "What do you mean?"

Zhao You glanced at the door to make sure their voices wouldn’t carry before continuing in a low tone, "A couple of years ago, Sun Weilong was fighting in the underground circuit in the South Asia Region. He messed up some big boss’s business and had a bounty put on his head. Three masters at the Blood Tempering Third Transformation ganged up to ambush him. Guess what happened?"

Tie Feiyang’s throat bobbed, but he said nothing.

"Eight punches." Zhao You made the sign for ’eight’ with his thumb and forefinger. "Within eight punches, he killed all three of them on the spot. Not a single one got away."

Tie Feiyang’s pupils contracted slightly.

’Blood Tempering Third Transformation?!’

’Three of them?!’

’An ambush by three of them... and he killed them all in eight punches.’

He let the implications of those words sink in.

The Blood Tempering Third Transformation was just one step away from the Refining Viscera Realm. Experts at that level could do as they pleased in their world.

Three such masters, joining forces, armed with weapons, and setting an ambush beforehand...

HISS!

It dawned on Tie Feiyang. "Does that mean... if the negotiations fail today, we’ll have to fight this Sun Weilong?"

"Correct." Zhao You nodded. "We follow the rules of the underworld. The Old Master said he’s willing to accept the outcome of the gamble."

As he spoke, his gaze went past Tie Feiyang to rest on the closed door.

The door was thick and soundproof. If someone hadn’t pushed it ajar just now, they wouldn’t have been able to see who was inside at all.

Zhao You’s gaze passed through the crack. He saw Sun Weilong, a man in his thirties and in the prime of his life, and then glanced at Tie Qingyang’s head of graying hair.

He sighed to himself.

As if suddenly remembering something, Zhao You’s brows twitched. He asked in a casual, low voice, "By the way, Ah Yang, didn’t you say the Old Master knows a Martial Dao expert? How come he wasn’t invited? If he were here, maybe we’d have a chance."

Tie Feiyang shook his head. "He wouldn’t allow it."

"Wouldn’t allow it?" Zhao You was taken aback.

Tie Feiyang shook his head again, unwilling to say more.

He just recalled the Old Master’s tone when he’d told him... it was faint, as if he were talking about something completely unrelated.

But having been by the Old Master’s side for so many years, he knew what was hidden beneath that tone.

’It meant he didn’t want to owe a favor unless it was the absolute last resort.’

’He truly considered Brother Wan one of his own.’

Tie Feiyang understood... He had believed since he was a child that those who walked the path of the underworld should be bound by unwavering loyalty.

Zhao You looked thoughtful and was about to ask something else when...

"Tie Qingyang!"

A sudden, explosive shout erupted from inside, so powerful it made their hearts jump even through the thick door.

"Don’t be a fool! Others might not know what you did in Guandong, but I certainly do! Since you won’t agree, we’ll settle this according to the rules of the underworld!"

Tie Feiyang’s expression changed, and he led his men charging into the hall.

The door slammed against the wall with a dull THUD. Seven or eight men filed in, quickly forming a line behind Tie Qingyang.

Tie Feiyang strode to Tie Qingyang’s side, his wary gaze sweeping over the men opposite them before finally landing on a man of about forty with naturally curly hair.

’President Qin.’

’He was the bastard who brought Sun Weilong here!’

Tie Qingyang said coolly, "Since President Qin has made up his mind, then name the challenge."

His tone was as calm as if he were commenting on the weather.

His composure stunned the men opposite him for a moment. Then, President Qin began to laugh, his voice filled with undisguised mockery.

"Fine, you said it!"

President Qin pointed at Tie Qingyang, his face gloating with the certainty of victory. "Three years ago, I might have shown you some respect. But now... how many years do you have left? Hmm? You think you can fight me?"

He leaned forward, a sneer twisting his lips. "Hah. I’m not a weakling like Sun Shengji."

Tie Qingyang’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He didn’t even spare President Qin a glance.

He turned and made to leave with his men.

Just then...

"Elder Tie, what’s the rush?"

A man’s voice, neither loud nor soft, came from beside President Qin.

But in that same instant, the faces of the men beside Tie Qingyang, including Tie Feiyang, all changed in unison.

Because the speaker was none other than Sun Weilong.

Sun Weilong stood slightly behind President Qin, his posture casual. His hands hung naturally at his sides, and he even wore a polite smile.

But his eyes were like those of a vicious wolf that had locked onto its prey, fixed unblinkingly on Tie Qingyang.

Tie Qingyang paused his steps and turned back around.

He gave Sun Weilong a detached glance, his eyes devoid of emotion, as if looking at a stone by the roadside. He spoke coolly, "I heard South Asia has produced an Eight-Armed Divine Fist. What? You want to test me right now?"

"I would be honored to receive your instruction, Elder Tie." Sun Weilong’s tone was flat. He even gave a slight bow, his posture respectful.

But everyone present could see what was hidden beneath that respect.

He mistook Tie Qingyang’s composure for a bluff, viewing the fierce tiger who had once fought his way out of Guandong as a sick, old beast with loose teeth.

"According to the rules of the underworld, even a formal challenge requires setting a time and place..." Tie Feiyang couldn’t help but step forward, saying coldly, "What’s your rush?"

Sun Weilong didn’t even acknowledge him.

He didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

Sun Weilong’s gaze remained locked on Tie Qingyang, like a predator stalking its prey. His eyes held no anger, no provocation, only a terrifyingly calm certainty of victory.

This Blood Tempering Realm master, who had become famous at a young age and had already carved out a name for himself in South Asia, had long since ceased to see the aging tiger Tie Qingyang as a threat.

"You dare, or not?"

Four words, dropping into the room like boulders into a pond.

The atmosphere turned to ice.

Tie Feiyang’s heart clenched, and he quickly looked at Tie Qingyang.

’He knew his father’s old injuries better than anyone... After that battle in Guandong, his father had never been able to fully heal his internal wounds. They had worsened in recent years, and his vitality was a shadow of its former self.’

’If three Martial Artists at the Blood Tempering Third Transformation were no match for Sun Weilong, what chance did his injured father stand?’

He was frantic with worry but didn’t dare let it show.

In front of everyone, Tie Qingyang didn’t back down. He couldn’t. "You think I don’t dare?"

He let out a furious roar, and his vitality suddenly surged.

In that instant, the expression on everyone’s face changed.

It was as if a fierce tiger, dormant for many years, had suddenly opened its eyes. A savage aura erupted from Tie Qingyang, crashing down on them with a pressure so immense it was almost hard to breathe.

The ferocious tiger who had once fought his way out of Guandong and built this empire had finally bared its man-eating fangs.

President Qin’s face went pale with fright at this display of power. He subconsciously took a step back, hiding directly behind Sun Weilong.

All of his earlier smugness vanished, replaced by lingering terror. He suddenly understood that some men, even in old age, were not people he could afford to provoke.

Only Sun Weilong offered a faint smile.

But his smile held a hint of satisfaction. He spoke again, his tone calm to the point of cruelty, "The underworld says that Elder Tie has grown old and weak. Since you’re clearly ready for a fight, let’s have one."

Sun Weilong took a step forward and fell into a fighting stance.

"Elder Tie, please don’t disappoint me!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he moved.

A fist shot out, aimed straight at Tie Qingyang’s chest.

The air howled as the punch flew, carrying a brutally ferocious power, like a charging bull.

Speed, Power, and presence—the three merged into one, creating a suffocating pressure.

Tie Feiyang’s heart leaped into his throat. He knew he would be no match for a punch like that; all he could do was stare intently at his father.

But Tie Qingyang didn’t retreat.

He just stood his ground.

Only when the fist was about to slam into him did he suddenly turn to the side.

His entire body moved like a falling leaf, drifting away on the wind of the punch.

At the same time, his right hand shot out, fingers loosely curled—not quite a fist, not quite a palm—and gently tapped Sun Weilong’s wrist.

The touch was exquisitely skillful.

Sun Weilong’s incomparably ferocious punch was diverted by that simple tap, grazing past Tie Qingyang’s clothes. The force of the punch struck empty air with an explosive BOOM.

Tie Qingyang didn’t press the advantage. He simply took a step back, settled into his stance, and watched Sun Weilong coolly.

At that moment, the atmosphere in the room shifted once again.

Everyone looked at Tie Qingyang with varying expressions.

He was old... his hair was gray, his eyes were wrinkled, and his vitality was a shadow of what it once was.

But his posture as he stood there now—his composure, the effortless way he had neutralized the attack—sent a clear message to everyone...

A tiger is still a tiger, even in old age... and it can still devour a man whole!

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