Chapter 1609 - 1623: Tragic Death

Chapter 1609: Chapter 1623: Tragic Death

"Good!" A flush of crimson swept across Ghost Zhong’s face, yet his demeanor grew increasingly benevolent and gentle. He took a deep breath, and his temple bulged visibly by half an inch. His footwork quickly followed, and his fist struck Ghost Zhong’s right ribs like an arrow piercing the heart, akin to a landslide and earthquake, accompanied by an echoing hum in the air.

It was astonishing, unfathomable; this stance seemingly demonstrated the invincible Half-Step Inch Fist from Xingyi.

"Wow, simply the Martial Arts Master!"

Lin Mu was truly surprised this time. Ghost Zhong’s learning was indeed complex: Southern Wing Chun, Northern Leg Kick, Chen Style Tai Chi, and also the Xingyi Beng Fist. If it were anyone else, they would struggle their entire life to master these disciplines, yet Ghost Zhong, a member of a gangster, possessed such unparalleled martial talent. At less than forty, he had honed these National Martial Arts to perfection. And it wasn’t just for show; every move he made was lethal, with terrifying destructive power.

The two of them maneuvered and flashed atop the mountain, occasionally shattering trees and stones. The sound of air explosively colliding with Dark Force echoed continuously, incessantly. Ghost Zhong, carrying multiple lineages, relentlessly displayed peculiar and ingenious moves, while Lin Mu, repeatedly using a few simple Military Boxing techniques, was evenly matched with him. Gradually, Ghost Zhong lost patience, suddenly glaring with eyes akin to an Angry-eyed Vajra statue. Rumbling sounds emanated from within, as if his blood began to flow faster.

Buzz! Ghost Zhong’s face flushed red, yet his expression grew even gentler. "Go die!"

His whole body’s muscles suddenly swelled, veins protruding like worms, sinisterly and terrifyingly surfacing from his skin. Boom! Another Tai Chi Cannon Hammer struck out, yet this time the force was ten times more vigorous. Lin Mu, caught unprepared, was shaken and retreated five steps, finally stabilizing his stance. Gazing at his torn and tattered sleeve, he furrowed his brow in contemplation.

Then, Ghost Zhong started changing, his muscles grew stronger, and his height bizarrely increased by over three inches. His aura was sharp, while his black and thick short hair transformed into something resembling white frost, and strands fell with the gentle evening breeze.

"What is this?" Lin Mu was shocked, yet before he could ponder further, Ghost Zhong attacked once again.

Whistling fists and feet, the piercing sound of breaking air echoed continuously, his power elevated by a massive step in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Boom, a fist swung out, the sharp energy bursting out and blasting a two-meter-wide pit in the ground. This clearly surpassed the power that ordinary masters could possess. If the Ghost King was considered a second-rate expert, Ghost Zhong now was genuinely first-rate; even three Ghost Kings combined might not be his match.

"Run, Lin Mu, he’s not human." Ling Xiaoqiao anxiously shouted, her voice faintly heard from afar.

Lin Mu’s expression was stunned. "Not human? He has a nose and eyes, arms and legs, other than being somewhat ugly, he doesn’t even look like an alien creature." Naturally, thinking as much, watching the now bald Ghost Zhong whose strength continued to grow, his expression turned serious: further probing was now meaningless; better to end the combat swiftly, capture the opponent alive, and question him thoroughly.

Yet just then, a sudden change occurred; Ghost Zhong leaped into the air, then heavily fell, clutching his head in pain, emitting a sound resembling the hiss of a despairing Beast. "Boom!"

Apparently unable to bear it, he took a knee to the ground, suddenly swung his arm, pounding the ground with punch after punch. Shattered stones flew, and standing at a distance, Lin Mu could feel the faint tremors of the earth; such was the terrifying magnitude of his strength. With a tearing sound like leather being ripped apart, a three-inch-long gash opened on Ghost Zhong’s chest, then as if toppling dominoes, numerous jagged wounds erupted across his body.

Blood gushed, painting the ground red within a few breaths, his whole skin exploding into fragmented meat and fibers. Ghost Zhong collapsed, convulsing brutally on the ground, indescribably cruel, "I, I..."

Lin Mu’s heart softened, he swiftly approached, intending to check his pulse, but Ghost Zhong suddenly clutched his arm, raising a blood-red gaze, "Lin Mu, careful... danger..."

"Hmm?"

Lin Mu’s brow furrowed, unable to speak yet, Ghost Zhong suddenly exerted his power, pushing him away. Faintly, it seemed a few wisps of black aura emerged from his crown, Ghost Zhong sorrowfully wailed as his strong physique rapidly dehydrated and shriveled, turning into a palm-sized lump of black flesh within moments.

The scene was truly gruesome and terrifying.

Lin Mu sighed, walked to the pine tree, and put down Ling Xiaoqiao, "Are you alright?"

"I’m... I’m so afraid." Ling Xiaoqiao, pale and trembling, said, "They are all not human, not human..."

"They? Could it be there are others beside Ghost Zhong on this mountain?"

Lin Mu’s expression sharpened, but before he could speak, he sensed something; he swiftly turned.

At some point, a Little Monk, draped in a robe, with fair complexion, appeared over ten meters away; he shook his head with a sigh, sorrowfully bowed and retrieved the flesh lump formed from Ghost Zhong’s convulsion, tucking it into his sleeve. This action seemed natural, as if picking up not a gruesome corpse but a piece of rock, a stalk of grass.

"Who are you?" Lin Mu’s brows twitched, instinctively shielding Ling Xiaoqiao behind him.

"Amitabha Buddha, I am Huizhi, a humble monk, greetings to the benefactor."

The Little Monk was extraordinarily dashing, with fair lips and white teeth. His smile was not only pleasant but exuded an irresistible charisma, genuinely likable for anyone who saw it. Yet Lin Mu sneered and muttered sarcastically: "Weirdoes abound every year, this year especially. Little Monk isn’t reciting sutras in the temple but running around the mortal world acting cute, mingling among sinners; is it that the monk profession isn’t lucrative, and you’re thinking of switching to a male escort?"

"Unexpectedly, the benefactor is a witty man."

Huizhi didn’t take offense. Instead, he clapped in laughter, admiration filling his eyes, saying: "I wonder if the benefactor is interested in devoting himself to my Dharma?"

"Please, I’ve not yet lived enough; I wouldn’t want to become the lump in your hand, with no whole corpse nor a place to rest!" Lin Mu ridiculed:

"That’s biased. The benefactor is blessed with good fate, excellent spiritual roots, beyond comparison to my disappointing disciple." Huizhi shook his head, pressed his hands together in a long chant of the Dharma name, said: "Should you devote yourself to my Dharma, before long, you’ll certainly transcend the sea of suffering and reach the other shore..."

"Was it you who taught Ghost Zhong his skills?"

Lin Mu abruptly interrupted, leaving Huizhi momentarily surprised, but he soon nodded, said: "Correct, my Dharma is compassionate, imparting three thousand Magic Techniques to all disciples. If the benefactor is willing to learn, just devote yourself to my Dharma, and I shall teach you everything."