Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Liu Yunfei-Type Bomber

The days of being Sun Wukong’s junior disciple passed without a hitch. Watching a living person vanish before his eyes, Hardy, who had mingled in the world of psychics for many years, was stunned; this was the first time he had witnessed such a thing, and it only fueled his desire to win over Liu Yunfei.

“Let’s be friends, shall we? I’ll make another concession—just swear you’ll never reveal anything discussed here today, leave this place, and never become an enemy of the Holy Sect, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened,” Hardy continued to persuade him. “The more friends you have, the more paths you walk. If you have any requests, name them—money, women, status? I can give them to you.”

“That’s enough. I already have money, women, and status. Who’s coming at me first, or are you all coming together?” Liu Yunfei thought that since he was exposed, there was no need for pretense. Now that he was indestructible, why should he fear them?

“Very well, let this old man see just how formidable you are.” With these words, White Impermanence lunged at him. His fist transformed into a massive white shadow, growing larger as it approached. The chapel was tiny, and White Impermanence moved swiftly; the room was instantly filled with a sound like the air being torn apart. Hardy and his followers were not bound by any martial virtue or one-on-one principle—it was simply that Liu Yunfei’s earlier kick to Black Impermanence had terrified them. They wanted White Impermanence to test the opponent’s strength first.

Liu Yunfei hadn’t expected the effeminate White Impermanence to possess such fierce and powerful martial skills. “Let’s see how strong you really are.” Liu Yunfei reached for the long stone table—a single block of granite, legs and tabletop fused, weighing about two tons. He lifted it effortlessly with all his strength and hurled it toward White Impermanence.

White Impermanence was already close, so the stone table barely completed a rotation in the air before it reached him. “Good!” Eager to impress Hardy, White Impermanence didn’t take the easy way of striking the tabletop; instead, he increased his punch’s force, aiming for the thick edge as it swung before him. A thunderous crash echoed as his fist met the stone table’s edge.

The struck side of the table immediately caved inward, and tiny shards of granite flew along natural cracks, scattering to both sides like a sideways hailstorm. Several less experienced followers, huddled against the chapel wall, were still grazed by the flying fragments, leaving fine wounds on their bodies.

The table, battered in midair, was sent hurtling back toward Liu Yunfei by the force of White Impermanence’s punch.

Hardy and White Impermanence never expected the stone table to injure Liu Yunfei. They simply assumed Liu Yunfei would smash it in turn, eager to compare his strength to White Impermanence’s.

But to their surprise, Liu Yunfei didn’t move, nor did they hear any sound. The remaining half of the stone table vanished—of course, it was stowed away in Liu Yunfei’s Light Jade Slip.

Hardy and White Impermanence exchanged glances, neither speaking, as a strange atmosphere spread through the room. The followers unconsciously retreated further, pressing themselves against the cold wall.

Hardy stared at the scene, realizing this young man was unfathomable. Even if they all attacked together, they might not defeat him. A cunning plan formed in his mind.

“Young man, your skills are peculiar. Let’s do this: to avoid injuries, let’s test our strength with one punch each. If you’re stronger than me, I’ll let you leave immediately.” Hardy pushed White Impermanence aside and, to show his sincerity, walked to the door and opened the chapel’s entrance.

“Fine, but I’m not here to leave. I’m here to ensure you die understanding why.” Liu Yunfei looked at Hardy, thinking, Are you scared? Opening the door to escape, pretending to let me leave.

“Alright, be careful then.” Hardy’s form blurred as he waved his hands, releasing a mass of white, fog-like substance that drifted slowly toward Liu Yunfei. Liu Yunfei expected a powerful blow—wasn’t this a test of strength?

He wanted to dodge, but that would admit defeat. Uncertain what trick lay within the fog, he swung his fist at it. But his fist struck nothing; even the wind stirred by his punch couldn’t disperse the mist, which instead wrapped more tightly around his arm.

Liu Yunfei felt a chill seeping through his pores, a stream of cold following his blood toward his brain, leaving numbness wherever it passed, impossible to control. His mind quickly grew hazy, as if he’d drunk from that little spring yesterday—but this confusion was a thousand times stronger.

Liu Yunfei realized something was wrong—he’d fallen into a trap. With a last bit of clarity, he bolted, summoning his Cloud Somersault and flipping out the door, soaring into the sky.

Hardy watched Liu Yunfei succumb, thinking, My ultimate move—no matter how powerful a psychic, how can they resist my concentrated Toxic Thorn Mist? If poured into a reservoir, it would muddle tens of thousands; now it’s all in one body—even a celestial immortal would fall. Whether he ever wakes up, and whether he wakes as a fool or an imbecile, Hardy didn’t know—he’d never tested it.

Unexpectedly, Liu Yunfei not only didn’t collapse, but escaped so swiftly he became a blur, a white streak shooting skyward and out of sight. “Ah, this is a formidable opponent. If he isn’t eliminated, our plan may fail.”

Liu Yunfei lay atop his Cloud Somersault, dazed, basking in the sun all afternoon. He had no idea what he was thinking—his strength utterly drained, unable even to open his eyes, unaware of time passing. The Toxic Thorn was truly potent. Various currents within his body spun, carrying the poison from every corner out through his pores. When he could finally force his eyes open, he realized he was now basking in moonlight. He stood on the Cloud Somersault, wiggling his feet and hands—aside from a numb tingling, he had basically recovered. Hatred burned in his heart, and he flew back above the strange house, ready for three hundred rounds of battle. He wasn’t fully recovered, and still feared that mysterious poisonous mist.

With one eye closed and the other open, he lined up his target from afar, lowering altitude. Thinking of old bombers, he realized aiming by eye was no easy task. At five hundred meters above, he judged it close enough and tossed down the half stone table. With a whistle, it struck the roof dead-on; after a cloud of white smoke, the strange house was utterly destroyed.

Yes, direct hit—let them taste the might of a Liu Yunfei-style bomber.