"Not be polite?" Zhuang Pan immediately burst out, sneering coldly. "And how exactly would you not be polite? This deacon would very much like to see just what kind of audacity you, Duan Yuanshan, have to not be polite to me."
"Hit me! Hit me! If you've got the guts, then hit me!" Zhuang Pan shoved his face right in front of Duan Yuanshan and the others, shouting and provoking them relentlessly.
Every martial artist in the surrounding crowd shook their heads in disdain.
Although most of these out-of-towners were meeting Zhuang Pan for the first time—and hadn't even known of his existence before—one could generally gauge a person's character from just a few words out of their mouth.
Zhuang Pan was clearly the type who, once a petty man tasted success, would grow insufferably arrogant—a man utterly beneath contempt.
And the heads of the great families of Maple Forest City who had arrived shortly after all wore somber expressions, tinged with a fox-who-mourns-the-hare sort of sorrow.
Over the years, under the City Lord's management and restraint, the great families had experienced minor frictions and small conflicts among themselves, but nothing that would truly shake them to the core. More often than not, the City Lord's manor had served as a buffer and mediator between the families, and so they had all been fairly accepting of its authority. Now, seeing the City Lord, the Deputy City Lord, and even a Qin family head humiliated in such a manner by Zhuang Pan, their hearts were heavy with distress.
*Crack!* A crisp sound rang out, resounding across heaven and earth.
Everyone froze in stunned silence, cold sweat beading on their faces, thinking: He actually hit him? The City Lord has that kind of nerve?
Filled with confusion, they all turned to look.
The next moment, understanding dawned on their faces.
A figure stood before Zhuang Pan, cracking his neck and rolling his wrists, adopting the posture of someone preparing to dish out a thorough beating.
"Who! Who dares hit me?" The slap had left Zhuang Pan dazed. Half his cheek was swollen and completely numb, his head jerked to the side by the force, so he hadn't seen who struck him. Once he recovered, he immediately began screaming hysterically. "Who exactly—urgh—"
The words had barely left his mouth when he saw Yang Kai standing before him with a wide, grinning smile, baring a set of stark white teeth like a beast about to devour its prey. A chill ran from the top of his head straight to his toes. Whatever vicious words he had planned to say died on his lips, swallowed back down without a second thought.
"How very entertaining..." As Yang Kai spoke, another slap came crashing out.
*Crack!* Another crisp sound echoed out. The other side of Zhuang Pan's face swelled up instantly, and several bloodied teeth went flying.
Yang Kai gripped one hand on his collar, holding him fixed in place, while the other hand continued to swing—unhurriedly, methodically—each slap harder than the last. Beneath his palm, the surging waves of Source Force grew increasingly violent.
*Crack, crack, crack...*
Rhythmic, crisp sounds echoed across the desolate wasteland.
"In this world..." Yang Kai sneered coldly between each slap, "...there are actually people who actively beg others to hit them. Such a refined and unique wish... it's the first time I've ever heard it. So I've decided... to grant it to you, thoroughly!"
Watching this scene, every martial artist suddenly felt an empathetic twinge of pain, involuntarily reaching up to touch their own cheeks.
Zhuang Pan was completely dazed. It took him a long while to recover, and he struggled ceaselessly, trying to break free of Yang Kai's grip.
But with his mere First Stage Dao Source Realm cultivation, how could he succeed? Yang Kai's Source Force enveloped him, suppressing his strength within his own body, rendering him utterly immobile.
In desperation, Zhuang Pan burst into tears and began begging for mercy. "Lord Yang! Stop, stop, please stop hitting me!"
"Lord Yang, I was wrong! I was truly wrong! Spare me and I'll make amends!"
"I'm a deacon of the Flying Sacred Palace! Let me go at once!"
"Damn you! A warrior can be killed but not humiliated! If you dare continue, I'll fight you to the death—"
"Waaaaah... Lord Yang, spare my life! I don't want to die!"
The onlookers watched this scene and listened to Zhuang Pan's words, their faces dark with expressions of utter disbelief. They silently despised his complete lack of backbone—he truly deserved his fate.
After dozens of slaps, Zhuang Pan's face was no longer recognizable as human.
When Yang Kai had beaten Ning Yuanshu before, he hadn't gone all out. After all, Ning Yuanshu held a special status with an Emperor Venerable Realm father, and Yang Kai hadn't wanted to push things too far and invite trouble upon himself.
But with Zhuang Pan, it was a different matter entirely. Yang Kai had infused Source Force into every single slap, and after dozens of them, every meridian in Zhuang Pan's body had been shattered.
In other words, even if Zhuang Pan survived this, he would become a cripple from this point forward—left with not a scrap of cultivation and no possibility of ever cultivating again.
"Brother Yang..." Duan Yuanshan looked at Zhuang Pan's wretched state and seemed somewhat reluctant, his enthusiasm waning. "Let it go. His cowardice and desertion are simply his nature. He didn't actually do anything to us—just give him a swift end."
Drunken Old Man let out a burp, the narrowed eyes beneath his lids gleaming with cold light. "If you strike a snake but don't kill it, it'll crawl up the stick. Release a tiger back to the mountain and it'll bring trouble eventually!"
As he spoke, he suddenly reached out a hand toward the top of Zhuang Pan's head.
Yang Kai narrowed his eyes, reached out, and pushed Drunken Old Man's hand aside with a laugh. "A trivial matter like this—no need to trouble the Deputy City Lord."
Drunken Old Man might not be in a position to act, but Yang Kai had no such reservations. He had already beaten Ning Yuanshu once—what was one more killing of a Zhuang Pan? His grudge with the Flying Sacred Palace wasn't something that had developed overnight.
As his words fell, his hand gave a slight tremor, and a torrent of Source Force surged into Zhuang Pan's body. Then, with a powerful shove, he sent Zhuang Pan hurtling into the air.
"Aaaaah—" Zhuang Pan screamed in agony, but the cry cut off abruptly as his body exploded, transforming into a rain of blood and gore that scattered downward.