Chapter 0067: Blade

Urban Legend: The Supreme Madman Luo Fenghan 3688 words 2026-03-20 12:56:29

“Damn it!” Leng Lishang roared furiously, sensing the icy chill radiating from the silver needles suspended in the air. Without a moment’s hesitation, he immediately ducked his head down.

His speed was remarkable—so fast it bordered on the extreme. He tried to leap off the bed, only to discover he couldn’t break free... He had just been at the peak of ecstasy, startled abruptly, and it was not hard to imagine the scene of a male and female dog unable to separate...

At that very moment, three sharp whistling sounds sliced through the air, each needle shooting toward his brow from three directions. Leng Lishang’s face twisted in terror. Having reached the Spirit Awakening Realm, his powerful senses instantly realized that the three needles had sealed off every escape route; no matter how he dodged, one would surely strike his head—dead center between the brows!

Such terrifying calculation! Such dreadful skill! Such overwhelming spiritual power!

Whoever had come was also a practitioner at the Spirit Awakening Realm! And their spiritual strength was at least equal to his, perhaps even greater!

“You want me dead? Is it really that easy?”

Rage flared within Leng Lishang. No longer caring about consequences, he thrust both palms out, grasping at the incoming silver needles, his eyes flashing with fierce brilliance.

Two needles pierced through his palms unhindered, swift as a blade through bamboo. Leng Lishang felt the tiny holes in his hands rapidly expand, a burning pain flooding his senses. To his horror, he discovered his bones were melting!

What kind of needle was this? How could it be so terrifying?

Just then, the third needle loomed larger in his vision, leaving him no time for even a fragment of hesitation. He jerked his head aside, the movement so quick it left afterimages.

But in the next instant, yet another silver needle shot forth, and under his terrified gaze, struck directly into his brow, burning out a hole in his flesh.

The Pure Yang Needle, when infused with extreme spiritual power, could ignite the fire element within. Even a martial artist like Leng Lishang at the Spirit Awakening Realm could not withstand it.

In truth, Zhang Xiaofan was using it for the first time himself, never expecting it to be so potent. When he faced the Poison King before, the Pure Yang Needle did not possess this level of power. It was surely connected to his own rise in strength, but most crucially, it was due to cultivating the True Dragon Manual of the Nine Heavens. Unbeknownst to him, its baptism had endowed his spiritual energy with the force of pure yang.

At this moment, a series of gunshots exploded—the black muzzles swept Zhang Xiaofan and Feng Qingyang with a wild volley.

“Bang, bang, bang...”

With one last furious howl, Blade’s body collapsed, powerless.

What an unjust death!

Blood spurted like a fountain. Blade’s eyes blazed with profound resentment. If Leng Lishang hadn’t been distracted by his lust, with their combined strength, how could things have reached this point?

Feng Qingyang, his battle experience rich, fought through the agony in his wrist. With a sudden swing, he sliced Blade’s throat, severing the artery.

At the same time, Zhang Xiaofan poured spiritual energy into his two fingers, which became as hard as gold. He unleashed his power at a single point—Blade’s internal spiritual force exploded violently, shattering his organs and causing blood to stream from every orifice.

“Die!”

Blade’s face turned deathly pale, a mouthful of blood spewing forth.

One jab—though it didn’t break the skin—instantly threw Blade’s dantian into chaos. His spiritual energy surged like a wild tsunami, ravaging his insides.

Blade sensed something was wrong, but just as he tried to resist, Zhang Xiaofan’s finger stabbed hard at his solar plexus.

This strike depended solely on physical strength!

No clever battle technique, just a simple, forceful jab executed at extreme speed. Zhang Xiaofan didn’t even infuse spiritual energy, lest the slightest preparation give Blade a chance to react.

But the moment Blade kicked out, Zhang Xiaofan was already moving, fingers together, aiming directly for Blade’s chest and dantian—the martial artist’s power source, as described in ancient texts.

With a sudden kick, he struck the back of the sword, precise and powerful. The force knocked the blade back, and Feng Qingyang’s sword hand visibly trembled, his wrist already split from the shock.

Blade snorted coldly, his wounded hand barely affecting his combat ability.

“Overestimating yourself!”

At this moment, Feng Qingyang raised his sword—like a thunderbolt—straight for Blade’s head.

“Prepare to die!”

Feeling the wound in his hand worsening, Blade’s expression changed drastically. Spiritual energy surged to stem the damage.

“Not good!”

A Pure Yang Needle hidden in Zhang Xiaofan’s sleeve flicked out, shooting instantly into Blade’s palm and piercing straight through. Even with spiritual energy wrapped around his hand, he couldn’t stop the needle’s edge.

A direct clash would be difficult, but why must he fight head-on? This wasn’t some honorable competition.

Zhang Xiaofan sneered inwardly and, without a hint of emotion, struck with his palm. In the moment of impact, he sensed the opponent’s powerful spiritual energy, his own arm numbing slightly. This man was truly a formidable expert!

He was shrewd to the core. If Zhang Xiaofan couldn’t withstand him, he would unleash a thunderous blow to wound Zhang Xiaofan. Blade was cautious, keeping an escape route—if Zhang Xiaofan proved stronger, he could use the recoil to leap straight from the third floor.

His purpose was to test Zhang Xiaofan’s true strength.

Blade snorted again, swinging his palm at Zhang Xiaofan. It looked ordinary, yet it boxed Zhang Xiaofan in, forcing him to engage directly.

“How arrogant!”

Zhang Xiaofan had already decided—he must not let him escape. If he did, there would be a mid-stage Spirit Awakening practitioner stalking him, making life uneasy and, more importantly, endangering those around him.

This man’s strength was mid-stage Spirit Awakening, but his spiritual power was muddled—not impossible to defeat.

“How can you know unless you try?” Zhang Xiaofan replied with a cold smile.

“I wondered why you seemed so uneasy—it turns out you’re wearing a disguise. Such skill. But even with you, do you think you can keep me here?” Blade’s low voice brimmed with arrogance.

“Heh, it’s precisely me.” Zhang Xiaofan laughed lightly.

“You’re Zhang Xiaofan?” Blade asked, his tone deep.

Likewise, Zhang Xiaofan felt heavy-hearted. If he hadn’t already killed Leng Lishang, today’s outcome would be uncertain. This man was even stronger than Leng Lishang! The intelligence was wrong!

Blade’s face hardened as he looked at the young man before him—he couldn’t discern his true power.

Just then, an arrogant voice rang out. Zhang Xiaofan vaulted from the second to the third floor.

“What if you add me to the mix?”

Blade stared coldly at Feng Qingyang. “You think you, old man, can stop me?”

“Dragon Soul’s man.”

It was indeed Feng Qingyang—his swordplay was exceptional, his own strength not weak, nearly at the Spirit Awakening threshold. But age held him back; it was unlikely he could advance further on his own.

Now, a figure appeared, moving like a martial arts master in a film, sword in hand, bounding up the stairs to the third floor. In a flash of light, several gunmen lost their heads.

The police were well-trained, raising riot shields and returning fire to the third floor.

Zhang Xiaofan dreaded scenes like this. Grenades exploded, instantly taking lives—some lost legs or arms, flesh and blood flying everywhere.

Gunfire erupted.

Zhang Xiaofan sighed inwardly, then focused. His gaze was sharp as lightning, and soon he saw a group on the third floor wielding advanced firearms and grenades, hurling explosives at the armed police below.

“It’s for your own good—why are you crying?” Chen Yuanyuan ran, complaining to herself.

“You villain, you’re such a villain...” Her eyes brimmed with tears as she ran away.

“When I tell you to leave, you leave!” Zhang Xiaofan shouted. He had no time to argue; his aura was cold as frost, and his shout made Chen Yuanyuan shudder, feeling that bone-deep chill.

“I’m a police officer too—you shouldn’t look down on me.” Chen Yuanyuan protested.

Zhang Xiaofan nodded, saying, “Go on, get out. Leave it to me.”

She approached and asked, “Did you succeed?”

Zhang Xiaofan walked out of the room. Killing Leng Lishang wasn’t the end—there was another group, and they weren’t ones the police could handle.

Black muzzles promptly aimed at the fighting groups, who ducked with their hands over their heads.

“Don’t move!”

The armed police quickly entered the bar.

Blade might have been formidable, but seeing the dense ranks of heavily armed men on the monitors, he didn’t want to fight. He didn’t fear bullets, but couldn’t withstand a blanket barrage.

“Damn it! It was all a setup!” Blade roared. “Call our people back—get Leng Lishang, that lecher, out of here!”

“Boss! The cops are here!”

Inside the surveillance room.

Zhang Xiaofan had killed Leng Lishang, but no one outside knew. Even if the two beautiful women screamed, the noise outside would drown them out.

He had no intention of killing them—it wasn’t easy earning a living, and he held no grudge against them.

Leng Lishang’s blood soaked the bed, staining the covers and drenching the women in blood, making them scream in terror.

“Ah...”

From the moment Zhang Xiaofan burst into the room, he had planned meticulously. It seemed simple to kill Leng Lishang, but only Zhang Xiaofan knew the difficulties. A moment’s carelessness, and if Leng Lishang had recovered, things would have been far harder.

The fourth needle that killed Leng Lishang was paired with the third—under a special technique, they would split after a certain distance.