"That's it?"
Ma Donghe forced himself to bear the pain from his broken leg, his bloodied mouth curving into a sneer:
"I thought you were some great figure, able to shake heaven and earth, but turns out you're just a weakling who can't take a punch."
Hou Peng swallowed hard, glancing at the crater on the ground, then at the distant ruins.
Though he remained silent, his violently twitching ears betrayed the shock within him.
Fang Cheng's punch was so powerful, it was almost like something out of a primary artillery shell.
Yet, Fang Cheng did not withdraw his fist.
He slowly straightened up, his deep eyes narrowing slightly, staring at the swirling dust far away.
Fang Cheng knew very well the power behind that punch.
After six seconds of charging through the Kirin Arm, even a heavy infantry vehicle parked there would have its thick steel plates smashed through.
However, at the moment his punch connected with the man's arm, Fang Cheng felt an extraordinarily strange resistance.
