World-Ending Demon Emperor

Chapter 2243 - 1117: Divine Technique! Soul Shattered

"Bang!"

Nicholas fired at Lanling’s back.

For a mercenary, shooting from behind is as normal as it gets; it’s not like a duel where gentlemanly conduct is required.

At a mere five meters away, Nicholas was using a large-caliber handgun, with the bullet exiting the barrel at over four hundred meters per second.

At this range, it’s simply impossible to dodge.

Everyone was just waiting for Lanling to die under the gunfire.

However...

Lanling tilted his head, his hand swiftly clenched.

In an instant...

He caught the bullet alive in his hand.

Lanling glanced at the bullet; Nicholas was using the most malicious hollow-point bullet. Once it hits the target, the entire bullet would shatter and explode, leaving a huge wound on the body and even shredding internal organs completely.

The whole audience was first shocked, wondering how Lanling wasn’t killed?

Then they saw the bullet in his palm and immediately found it unbelievably absurd and unreal.

Catching bullets with bare hands?

This... this... this is impossible?

What is this?

A magic trick?

No matter how great the Kung Fu in this world, it’s impossible to catch bullets with bare hands, right? This completely surpasses reality and enters a fantasy world?

This isn’t the world of the movie "Kung Fu," and Lanling isn’t the Fiery Cloud Evil Deity, how could he catch bullets.

Mercenary Nicholas also couldn’t believe this scene at all, so he chose to fire once again.

"Bang, bang, bang, bang..." He frantically fired at Lanling, emptying the remaining seven bullets; he couldn’t believe that Lanling could really catch bullets with bare hands.

Yet, in the next second...

Lanling’s palm had seven more bullets.

He could really catch bullets with bare hands!

This... this is too freaky, isn’t it, like seeing a ghost!

Lin Hao and everyone present were all horrified. This doesn’t comply with logic, doesn’t match reality?

It’s somewhat too mind-blowing!

Could anyone in this world really catch bullets with bare hands? Am I dreaming, or is this world too crazy, hiding too many secrets I don’t know?

And Nicholas finally felt fear, felt scared.

He had killed countless people in his life, seen countless things, and never believed there were superheroes or supernatural phenomena in this world. However, now he’s witnessing it firsthand.

Collapsing almost to the point of shattering.

His knees went weak, falling straight to the ground.

"Oh God, what have I encountered?" Nicholas trembled, "Oh God, save me, forgive me."

Lanling stepped forward, saying, "Nicholas, you’ve killed countless people, but that’s your profession, so I originally didn’t plan to punish you further, only to destroy your arms. You have saved enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. But you actually dared to backstab me, then you shouldn’t continue to live in this world."

Nicholas trembled, wanting to beg for mercy, but found nothing in his stomach to say for his pleas.

"Open your mouth," Lanling said.

Nicholas dared not resist, directly opened his mouth.

Lanling threw the eight bullets in his hand into his mouth, these eight were a mix of alloy bullets, lead bullets, hollow-point bullets, poisoned bullets, and so on, some were bizarrely shaped, hideously sharp, some coated with poison, and even one filled with mercury.

Lanling stuffed all eight bullets into his mouth, then said, "Swallow them."

Nicholas seemed to lose control over his body, painfully swallowing all eight bullets.

Instantly, a mouthful of fresh blood spurted out.

As the esophagus was lacerated by sharp poisoned spines and hollow-point bullets.

However, this pain was only just beginning; once in the stomach, under the spasmodic contractions, these bullets frantically cut, and many poisons began to release, mercury leaked out after the bullets were crushed.

"Ah... ah... ah..."

This mercenary expert rolled on the ground in agony, howling miserably.

A full quarter of an hour later, he died completely, eyes bulging red, blood flowing from mouth and nose, dying a grotesque death.

...

The two experts Lin Bao hired were defeated, leaving only the last, the number one hard-style expert of East China, Ming.

Lanling slowly walked towards Ming.

"I heard you’re the number one hard-style expert in East China?" Lanling asked.

Ming’s face slightly tightened, "That’s just the compliments from friends in the martial world. This young friend, who is your master? Which sect are you from? The martial world is small, I might be your uncle in some way. Listen to me, it’s better to resolve enmity than to make it; how about writing off your grievances with Boss Lin Hao?"

Lanling said, "What? You plan to mediate, not planning to fight me?"

Ming’s expression turned earnest, "We martial artists practice to strengthen our body, to promote justice, not for bullying or fighting. You keep talking about fighting, isn’t it against the righteousness of Martial Arts? Didn’t your teacher teach you about martial virtue?"

Lanling was truly astonished!

Awesome, awesome...

The mouths of these martial artists are indeed much more skilled than their hands, perhaps their acting skills too.

Lanling said, "Since we’re here, why not have a match?"

Ming’s expression turned serious and he said, "Young friend, don’t be misguided. There’s always someone stronger. Fighting hard your whole life won’t make you great or a master."

Lanling said, "Come on, come on, shall we fight?"

Ming, the top fighter in East China, waved his hand and said, "I uphold martial virtue; fighting someone like you would ruin my reputation."

Lanling’s face turned cold, and he said harshly, "Will you fight or not? If not, I’ll kill you."

Ming gracefully stepped forward and said, "Since you’re persistently pushing, I’ll have to indulge you in a fight. In our martial world, we only exchange moves, don’t break the rules."

"Alright..." Lanling laughed.

Ming pulled out a treasure sword and said slowly, "This sword is named Dragon Chant, passed down from our founder, and it’s three hundred years old."

Then, he suddenly performed a series of sword flowers.

Next, he slashed at the nearby stair railing, instantly chopping the iron columns as if cutting through mud.

The sword flowers performed by Ming became increasingly dazzling and fast.

But Lanling remained motionless.

"Watch the sword..." Ming shouted loudly.

Suddenly...

A swirl of fragrance spread through the air.

Countless poison needles, like a rainstorm of pear blossom needles, shot toward Lanling.

Hundreds of thousands of poison needles and strange smoke instantly enveloped him.

When the poison needles hit Lanling, they vanished instantly because they were made of ice, melting directly into his body.

Ming had a very modern concealed weapon hidden in his sleeve, containing hundreds of thousands of ice poison needles, kept at a terrifyingly low temperature with liquid nitrogen. The special vacuum layer utilized prevented the low temperature from harming his arm.

Such poison needles, combined with the toxic smoke, were truly unpredictable. At close range, they were even more formidable than guns.

Lanling screamed miserably, collapsing to the ground with a purple face, pointing at Ming and saying, "You use poison, secret weapons, despicable and shameless."

Ming laughed loudly, "Dealing with you, one doesn’t need righteous methods. Everyone should kill the likes of you. Whether it’s a white cat or a black cat, as long as it catches mice, it’s a good cat. Whether it’s righteous arts or heretical magic, as long as it eliminates evil, it’s good martial arts."

Man, walking in the martial world, it’s all about the mouth.

The righteousness and martial ethics were just your words, now treacherously using poison to kill, it’s turned into a righteous act.

Then, the top fighter of East China Ming said, "Disciple, go cut off this kid’s hands, gouge out his eyes. Daring to offend me, Ming, he doesn’t deserve those eyes."

His disciple Abing slowly walked toward Lanling, face contorted, ready to sever Lanling’s hands and gouge out his eyes.

Just then, Lanling slowly stood up, laughed, "Interesting, quite interesting..."

Seeing him unharmed, Ming was shocked, "You, how are you okay? I used over ten kinds of poison, how are you fine?"

Lanling made a gesture, and Ming’s sword flew straight into Lanling’s hand.

Smelling it lightly, Lanling laughed, "This sword is only five years old, and crafted with modern techniques. Your martial tales are completely fabricated?"

Then, Lanling gently shook it.

Instantly, the alloy sword shattered, scattering on the ground.

Abing, Ming’s disciple, stared blankly at Lanling, stunned by the rapid change.

Lanling glanced at him, lightly pushed with his palm.

Suddenly, the disciple Abing flew out dozens of meters, slammed into the wall, spewing blood, life or death unknown.

Lanling walked up to Ming, showed a peculiar smile, said, "East China’s top hard-style fighter, huh?"

Ming seriously said, "This... this is all just the martial world’s praise."

"Martial artists should uphold virtue, people like me who love to fight can never be great, right?" Lanling laughed.

Ming said, "Martial virtue should be upheld, indeed."

Lanling laughed again, "People like me deserve everyone’s extermination, right?"

Ming said, "No matter how strong one is, they can’t fight against everyone. Don’t you agree, young friend?"

Lanling said, "Even now, you’re still obstinate, truly spectacular."

Suddenly, Ming abruptly knelt down, "Lanling, young friend, let me off this time?"

"Clown." Lanling coldly shouted, striking down forcefully on Ming’s legs.

"Martial world scum." Lanling coldly shouted again, striking down on Ming’s body.

"Death unworthy of pity." Lanling shouted his last angry rebuke, striking down on Ming’s head.

In the trembling gaze of everyone, the top hard-style fighter of East China was smashed flat on the ground, becoming a human-shaped meat pancake, dead beyond dead.

Lanling finally looked at Lin Hao and said, "Lin, got any more fighters, bring them all out."

Lin Hao trembled all over, then emitted a foul stench as he released waste in fear.

...

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