Chapter Seventy-Five: The Third Hall Master

The moment Ling Tian reached out his hand, a sense of imminent danger surged in his heart—a powerful instinct honed through years of bloody battles. This intuition had saved him from peril more than once during countless missions. Ling Tian cursed inwardly, but still chose to grab Wang Yong, hoping to pull him to safety quickly.

Suddenly, with a piercing hiss, four steel crossbow bolts shot from both sides of the corridor, aimed straight at Ling Tian.

Military-grade special crossbows!

There was no time to pull Wang Yong out of the way. Ling Tian spun around, striking Wang Yong with his palm to push him aside. Then, with a swift reversal of his hand, he tried to block the four bolts. But these were no ordinary arrows—they were special military bolts, nearly as powerful as bullets, but much quieter and devastatingly lethal at close range.

Just as the bolts were about to strike Ling Tian, a faint golden radiance flared around him. His protective talisman activated, forming a shield that enveloped him. But the talisman was of too low a grade to withstand the force of bolts comparable to bullets. The arrows stalled briefly at the shield, then pierced through it, continuing on. Hitting Ling Tian’s inner energy barrier, their velocity and power decreased significantly. Yet, for Ling Tian, this was all he needed.

His hands moved like lightning, and in a blur, he caught all four bolts—two in each hand. Without hesitation, he hurled them back along their original trajectories.

Though the process was intricate, it happened in a split second—faster than the blink of an eye to any ordinary observer.

At the ends of the corridor, the crossbowmen, cigarettes dangling from their lips, had been waiting smugly to see Ling Tian riddled with arrows. Their grins vanished as the bolts returned, striking them squarely in the right wrist and punching straight through.

Black Panther stared at Ling Tian in disbelief. To catch crossbow bolts barehanded—was this man even human? And to instantly return them with such precision, each one hitting the right wrist without error. Black Panther was utterly crushed.

“Not bad—you’ve learned to launch a sneak attack. But with your meager skills, you’re not even worth my notice,” Ling Tian sneered, flying forward, dragging the four assailants into the room, and systematically breaking all their limbs, crippling them beyond further threat.

With these dangers dealt with, Ling Tian remembered that he had pushed Wang Yong into the room opposite…

“Damn, this is troublesome,” Ling Tian muttered, preparing to rush over and deal with Wang Yong.

The door swung open, and two hefty foreign women reappeared, dragging Wang Yong with them. This time, Wang Yong looked even more pitiful—bruised and battered, tightly bound, and gagged with a pair of lace panties. He was the very picture of misery. “Mmmph, mmmph…” Wang Yong struggled to speak, but could only manage muffled noises.

Ling Tian smiled faintly. “Your acting was quite convincing. And now you’re trying to use my subordinate to threaten me? Do you think that will work?”

The two foreign women replied in fluent Mandarin, “You dared to offend the Azure Dragon Hall. Clearly you have some skills, but it’s a shame your underling is so useless. By the way, if you don’t care about his life, go ahead and make a move.” One of them drew a dagger and pressed it to Wang Yong’s throat.

To prevent Ling Tian from attempting a rescue, one woman stood in front to block him while the other pulled Wang Yong back several steps, maintaining a safe distance. She was determined to ensure that, should Ling Tian attack, she would have time to kill Wang Yong.

Ling Tian judged the distance—he wasn’t fully confident he could save Wang Yong unscathed, so he refrained from acting.

Bound and helpless, Wang Yong struggled violently, even leaning toward the dagger himself. It seemed he’d rather die than become a bargaining chip against Ling Tian.

Ling Tian was deeply impressed by Wang Yong’s resolve. It proved he was someone with potential—perhaps a future right-hand man.

Noticing Wang Yong’s suicidal intent, one of the foreign women yanked his head back while the other removed her black stockings and tied them around his head to prevent him from impaling himself on the blade.

Ling Tian’s tone was calm. “Things have come to this—perhaps we should sit down and talk. Don’t you think so, Black Panther?”

Freed from his pressure point lock, Black Panther finally breathed a sigh of relief. The young man before him was terrifyingly powerful—fast, strong, and even skilled in advanced martial arts techniques like pressure point strikes. There were hardly any in the entire Azure Dragon Hall who possessed such skills.

“You are strong, but you have attachments. That’s your fatal weakness,” Black Panther said gravely, sitting across from Ling Tian.

Ling Tian waved dismissively. “You’re not qualified to negotiate with me. Bring out the real leader.”

Black Panther’s retort caught in his throat.

After a long silence, Black Panther gave a bitter smile. “You’re quite the character, knowing I’m not the one in charge.”

Ling Tian replied, “If you were, there’d be no need to let you go. I could easily exchange hostages. But unfortunately, you don’t carry that much weight.”

A crisp applause echoed down the corridor.

“Well said—young yet powerful, and sharp-minded too.” A middle-aged man walked in, smiling as he took a seat across from Ling Tian.

He was about one-point-seven meters tall, thin and wiry, with sharp, twinkling black eyes—giving him a sly, almost rodent-like look. Despite his unassuming appearance, his voice rang with authority and his presence was commanding. Clearly, he was far superior to Black Panther or Lone Wolf.

“With such a massive entertainment complex, surely the Azure Dragon Hall would station an expert here. Otherwise, you’d never sleep soundly at night,” Ling Tian thought. He was certain this was the Hall’s appointed overseer for Fortune Prosperity Entertainment Club. With so much money flowing through the place, only a true expert would be trusted to watch over it.

“My friend, I believe this is all a misunderstanding. Why don’t we calm down, have some tea, and cool our tempers?” The middle-aged man had someone prepare tea, then extended his right hand to Ling Tian. “I am Tiger, Third Hall Master of the Azure Dragon Hall. May I have your name?”

Ling Tian reached out and shook his hand. “Ling Tian.”

“A true hero in his youth. With such strength at your age, it’s no wonder Lone Wolf and Black Panther lost to you. But remember, young man: there is always someone stronger. Don’t think that just because you know martial arts, you can do as you please,” Tiger said, narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice.

As he spoke, Tiger abruptly tightened his grip, squeezing Ling Tian’s hand with all his might—a clear attempt to test him, to show his own strength.