Yi Tianyun stared coldly at Lin Li, who lay collapsed on the ground. Drenched in a cold sweat from the pain, Lin Li's face was a twisted mask of agony. But Yi Tianyun felt not an ounce of pity—only rage.
'If I hadn't returned a little sooner, if I weren't a little stronger, Yi Yuwei and the others would have been in grave danger.'
"Didn't you want to fight me one-on-one? Get up!" Yi Tianyun yelled, the rage in his heart not diminishing in the slightest.
Beaten half to death, Lin Li could hardly get back on his feet. His face was pale, filled with humiliation, but even more so with terror. He never imagined Yi Tianyun's strength would be so horrifying. Had he known, he never would have picked this fight.
"Your strength... How can it be this great...?" His throat was dry, and his voice was raspy and harsh.
