Chapter 77: Master of External Training

“Damn it!” Lin Le rubbed his neck, which had nearly been strangled, and cursed aloud.

If my energy wasn’t depleted right now, I wouldn’t have to waste words with you—I’d dispatch you with a single manifestation of true energy and end it right here!

Just as Lin Le parked the car, he heard the screech of brakes behind him. Zhao Mingyi and his son arrived in their Mercedes, immediately blocking Lin Le’s path.

Ahead, Wu Dong, whom Lin Le had thrown from the car earlier, now appeared completely unscathed, twisting his neck with a series of crackling sounds as he approached Lin Le.

Lin Le was instantly surrounded.

“Lin Le, weren’t you acting tough just now? Why aren’t you running anymore?” Zhao Hu taunted arrogantly.

They were far from the highway now, with no one around—a perfect place for murder. With Wu Dong holding the front and Tu Jingang backing them from the car, Zhao Hu was overflowing with confidence.

“Run? Why would I need to run?” Lin Le stepped out from the car, leaning against the door as he lit a cigarette.

“Hmph, you little bastard, you’re just like your father—always stubborn, even at death’s door!” Zhao Mingyi spat bitterly.

“Back then, your father knew the Lin Group was collapsing, yet he insisted on fighting to the end. And what happened? Didn’t he lose everything, even his wife ran off with someone else!” Zhao Mingyi mocked.

Lin Le paused upon hearing this, but didn’t look up. He took a drag on his cigarette, and something darkened in his gaze.

“Wasn’t he so impressive? In the end, he still had to bow his head and borrow money from me, he even mortgaged your family’s house! Impressive? Impressive, my ass—”

Before Zhao Mingyi could finish, Lin Le, who had just been smoking, suddenly flashed forward and appeared right in front of him.

With a dull thud, Lin Le landed a heavy punch on Zhao Mingyi’s face, knocking out several teeth and sending him crashing to the ground.

“You brat, how dare—” Before the words left his mouth, Lin Le’s fist smashed into Zhao Mingyi’s face again. With a crack, his cheekbone broke under the blow, his face caving in and blood gushing from his mouth.

“Ugh…” Zhao Mingyi was utterly terrified, whimpering in fear.

But Lin Le didn’t stop. Another punch landed squarely on Zhao Mingyi’s face, knocking him flat on the ground, nearly unconscious.

“I don’t know where you find all that nonsense,” Lin Le spat on Zhao Mingyi’s face, then stood up with ease.

Lin Le’s speed had been so astonishing that even Wu Dong behind him hadn’t reacted before Zhao Mingyi had been knocked out with three punches.

Zhao Hu was stunned, staring at Lin Le in disbelief. Just moments ago, they’d been arguing; now his father had been beaten beyond recognition.

“Lin Le, you—” Zhao Hu pointed at him, about to speak.

Lin Le struck him with a backhand slap. It seemed casual, but a fierce force burst from his hand, sending Zhao Hu flying, spinning twice in the air before crashing heavily to the ground.

Tu Manjiang, inside the Mercedes, finally opened his sleepy eyes at the commotion. He raised his head and glanced outside, apparently intrigued by Lin Le’s methods.

Wu Dong, seeing how Lin Le had dealt with the Zhao family in an instant, was first stunned, then grinned and applauded.

“Not bad, not bad. The dog that bites doesn’t bark. Seems you do have some skills,” Wu Dong praised with a cold smile.

“A biting dog doesn’t bark; a barking dog’s useless. So tell me, are you one who barks, or one who doesn’t?” Lin Le replied with a smile.

“I am—” Wu Dong suddenly realized he’d walked into a trap, his grin vanishing, replaced by a sinister glare.

“You brat, you dare mess with me?” Wu Dong growled.

“Oh, I see. So you are a barking dog…” Lin Le sneered.

“You must be looking for death!”

Wu Dong stopped wasting words and swung his fists at Lin Le.

Wu Dong’s martial skills were nearly at the peak of inner strength, just a step away from perfection. He was also a master of hard-style martial arts, which multiplied his fighting power.

In terms of combat strength, Wu Dong was at least at the early to mid-stage of perfected inner strength—a formidable opponent.

He struck at Lin Le with a series of powerful blows, showcasing the full force of his hard-style training.

“Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!” Each punch tore through the air, the sound sharp and fierce.

The Zhao father and son, seeing Wu Dong finally attack, felt emboldened.

“Beat him to death! Kill that bastard!” Zhao Mingyi shouted furiously.

Under Wu Dong’s barrage, Lin Le retreated step by step.

Had his energy been full, Lin Le would have had no fear, even against a hard-style master. At worst, he’d shield himself with true energy and fight back head-on, suffering little loss.

But his luck was poor today—his body had just been drained by Xu Xier, and now he faced a tough hard-style opponent. To fight head-on was impossible.

Lin Le kept retreating and dodging, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Wu Dong, thinking Lin Le was scared, pressed harder, his punches growing more vicious.

“You brat, weren’t you so tough just now? Why are you cowardly now?” Wu Dong gloated.

The Zhao family, too, felt Wu Dong held the advantage and grew even more smug.

They’d seen Wu Dong’s strength—a single chop could cleave a steel blade, his power equal to four Guan Tianxiong. With Lin Le’s skill, how could he be a match?

It seemed revenge was at hand; Lin Le was doomed.

Tu Manjiang, watching from the car, saw things differently.

He was a mid-stage, nearly peak, perfected inner strength martial artist, with vast combat experience. He could tell Lin Le wasn’t retreating out of fear but was searching for an opening.

Despite noticing this, Tu Manjiang felt no concern—he trusted Wu Dong’s strength.

Wu Dong’s hard-style techniques were personally taught by Tu Manjiang himself, and he mastered them thoroughly.

Even if Lin Le found a weakness, so what? A mayfly cannot shake a great tree.

Hmph, just clever but overconfident!

With this thought, Tu Manjiang smirked disdainfully, preparing to close his eyes and rest.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Just as Tu Manjiang reclined, there was a thunderous crash—the windshield shattered, and he looked up in shock to see his own disciple, Wu Dong, had been punched headfirst into the car by Lin Le, completely unconscious.

“What…” Tu Manjiang could hardly believe his eyes.

“This… How is this possible…” He couldn’t fathom how Wu Dong, with all his hard-style skills, could lose to that inexperienced brat!

And Lin Le had only thrown a single punch!

One punch! He’d defeated his carefully trained disciple with one blow! How could that be?

Had he underestimated Lin Le after all?

Only now did Tu Manjiang realize he may have been too careless this time.