Chapter 67: Extortion

"Damn it!"

"Get lost!"

"Heavens, a one-hit kill! He's killed another Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artist in a single strike."

The other five men in black were both shocked and furious. Meng Yifan's speed just now had been too fast; before they could even react, another companion had been killed.

Once they did react, they all hurled their weapons at Meng Yifan in a chaotic rush.

Meng Yifan raised his hand and tossed a handful of White Powder into the air, then pushed off with his toes and slid backward. With a *whoosh*, he retreated twenty meters, dodging the weapons of the five men in black.

The four Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artists were terrified when they saw the White Powder; they hurriedly held their breath and dodged to the side, fearing they would also be poisoned to death.

"Hey! This isn't poison." One of the men in black had accidentally inhaled a bit of the White Powder and was trembling with fear, but after waiting a moment, he felt no symptoms of poisoning. He examined the White Powder more closely—it was clearly just ordinary white flour.

A handful of ordinary white flour had sent four Second-grade Experts into a panicked, chaotic scramble. Once they realized they had been played, they were so angry they were blowing their beards and staring, yet they were helpless to do anything about it.

Meng Yifan had spent two thousand taels of silver on medicinal ingredients, which he had Liu Zhongyong mix into poison and divide into four small portions. This was one of his trump cards for dealing with Third Grade Martial Artists, so naturally, he couldn't waste it carelessly.

That handful of white flour just now was just to scare that group of men in black, and it seemed the effect was quite good.

*Swish! Swish! * The last Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artist, who had been hiding in the back and unaffected by the white flour, channeled his True Qi and fiercely threw two flying knives.

Meng Yifan only knew the first two steps of the Lingbo Microsteps: one for moving forward in a straight line, and one for retreating in a straight line. Although the speed was high, it lacked variation, and this was his greatest flaw right now.

And this flaw had been captured by the Second Grade Middle Stage man in black who had been observing Meng Yifan all along.

Those two flying knives were like meteors or lightning, instantly cutting through the space and stabbing toward Meng Yifan—one attacking his brow, the other his chest.

"Oh no!" Meng Yifan felt a bit anxious. His body was still in the middle of a high-speed straight-line retreat; although his body speed was fast, it wasn't faster than the flying knives imbued with True Qi. In the critical moment, he used his Ghost Head Blade to hack at one of the flying knives.

*Clang! * One flying knife was knocked away, and Meng Yifan's arm was left feeling somewhat numb from the powerful impact contained within the blade.

The other flying knife was aimed at Meng Yifan's head. Meng Yifan jerked his head to the side, pressing it almost ninety degrees against his shoulder. The flying knife grazed his cheek as it flew past, nearly blinding his left eye, which left Meng Yifan in a cold sweat.

The two sides formed a standoff once again. The men in black looked at each other in dismay. They had originally thought they were here to slaughter a fat sheep, but they hadn't expected the fat sheep to be a wolf in sheep's clothing—and a very ferocious Wild Wolf at that, having killed two of their Second Grade Middle Stage experts right off the bat.

According to the order of Meng Yifan's attacks, his next target would definitely be the last Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artist who had thrown the flying knives.

That last Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artist was a burly man two meters tall. He stared at Meng Yifan with great wariness, his mind rapidly recalling the moves Meng Yifan had displayed just now.

Meng Yifan's moves were very simple: he used the same footwork to take a step forward, then unleashed a sonic attack like Ghost Crying Wolf Howling, then released poison, then took another step forward, followed by a one-hit kill.

The moves weren't complicated, but they were very effective and impossible to guard against, killing two Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artists in the blink of an eye.

"If he launches the same attack on me, can I block it?" The burly man's expression was grave as he pondered a countermeasure.

The other four Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artists were also trembling with fear. Even two Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artists had been killed in succession by Meng Yifan; if Meng Yifan set his sights on them, they would surely die.

Meng Yifan held the Ghost Head Blade in his left hand and grabbed a handful of powder with his right, his gaze fixed like a knife on the Second Grade Middle Stage Martial Artist who had thrown the knives, as if he were about to launch another fierce attack in the next second.

Everyone present, except for himself, had no idea whether what Meng Yifan was holding this time was real poison or just another bag of deceptive white flour.

No one was willing to gamble their own life on whether what Meng Yifan held was real poison. The two sides remained deadlocked, the atmosphere tense enough to be suffocating.

The burly man thought for a moment and felt he had no confidence in taking on Meng Yifan's wind-fast, violent attacks, so he said loudly, "Brother, we admit defeat. The road is wide, let's each go our own way. Let's part here, what do you think?"

Meng Yifan smiled when he heard this. He didn't want to fight anymore either; having launched two waves of attacks just now, his True Qi was almost exhausted, and that was only because he had practiced the Hunyuan Strength technique, which had increased his True Qi significantly.

If it were still the same as before, having only practiced the Savage Bull Strength, Meng Yifan would have only been able to launch one wave of attacks, and for the rest, he would have had to rely on his physical fitness to fight.

Meng Yifan struck a fighting pose just to make the other side hesitant and unable to discern his true strength.

If the burly man led the other men in black to attack regardless of life or death, they might be able to kill Meng Yifan and Meng Dayong, but they would also have to lose two or three more men.

The men in black were just bandits thrown together temporarily. They robbed to get rich, not to throw their lives away, so when they saw the target was tough, they wanted to retreat in the face of difficulty.

"You want to leave after failing to rob us? It's not that easy," Meng Yifan said coldly.

"Brother, do you insist on fighting us to the death?" The burly man took out four more flying knives, and the other four men in black also gripped their weapons tightly. The battle was on the verge of breaking out.

"If you want to leave, you can, but each of you must leave behind one hundred taels of silver." Meng Yifan didn't dare push these men in black too far; by asking for a modest one hundred taels of silver, both sides had a way to back down.

Otherwise, if they really had to fight again, Meng Yifan's current True Qi wasn't even enough to unleash another Ghost Crying Wolf Howling. If they kept fighting, it was possible that both he and his father would die here.

The burly man's face looked rather ugly, but his face was blocked by his bamboo hat, so Meng Yifan couldn't see it.

It had always been them robbing others; now that two of their own were dead, they were actually being extorted for one hundred taels of silver each. It was truly infuriating to think about.

One hundred taels of silver wasn't much for these Second Grade Martial Artists, but the whole affair was disgusting.

The burly man estimated that Meng Yifan must have consumed a large amount of True Qi during those two waves of attacks just now, and there probably wasn't much left, but the burly man couldn't be sure if Meng Yifan's remaining True Qi could still support another attack like the one before.

"Should we fight one more time? Maybe we could wipe out those two people on the other side." The burly man looked at his four companions.

Those four men in black had already been scared out of their wits. Seeing the burly man asking for their opinions, they shook their heads one after another; they no longer wanted to fight.

If the burly man insisted on fighting, they might even scatter and flee. In any case, it looked like the opponent's attack target was fixed on the burly man, so let them fight; everyone else could take the opportunity to run away.