NovelAppThe room fell into a sudden hush like thad frozen. Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before
them.
First, they glanced at Lucian, who was seriously injured and spewing blood. Then, their attention shifted to the
drunken man swaying unsteadily.
Confusion clouded their minds. They had witnessed Lucian delivering a decisive blow directly to the drunkard's
face.
Yet, why was the drunkard unharmed while Lucian suffered serious injuries?
"What the heck just happened? How did Lucian get tossed like that?"
"It... it must be the drunkard's protective armor energy! Thunderbolt Fist's punch went smack into that armor!"
"Protection armor energy? Wait, could this beggar be a grandmaster martial artist?"
After a brief moment of silence, the room exploded into chaos.
No one could have predicted that this disheveled, stinking drunkard would be a formidable adversary.
Lucian, alias Thunderbolt Fist, was a legend in the martial world. He was renowned for his bonecrushing blows,
which could exert tens of thousands of pounds of force.
To endure one of his strikes without a scratch or counter with such ferocity attack required the skill of a
grandmaster martial artist or higher.
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"Who do you think you are? How dare you cause such mayhem here!" Garrett's expression darkened as he
beheld Lucian's grievous injuries.
"Haha... Excellent wine!" The drunkard chuckled. He was oblivious to Garrett's presence and continued to sip his
drink as if nothing had occurred.
"Hey, I'm talking to you! Are you listening?" Garrett channeled his grandmaster-level internal energy to amplify
his voice.
In a flash, the entire room resounded with a thunderous boom. Ears rang, heads spun, and the less experienced
martial artists hurried to cover their ears from the piercing noise.
The drunkard burped. He stirred slightly at Garrett's outburst. His tired eyes reluctantly opened as he pointed to
himself. "Are you talking to me?"
"Of course! Who else would | be talking to?" Garrett nearly lost his composure and raised his voice again.
He noticed that the filthy beggar, with his tattered appearance and revolting stench, had completely ignored
him.
"Why are you shouting like that? I'm not deaf." The drunkard scratched his ear lazily. "Oh, what were you saying
just now?"
Garrett began, but the drunkard waved him off. "Forget it. Don't botherwhile | enjoy my drink."
With that dismissal, the drunkard settled into the seat. He nonchalantly resumed his drinking and was seemingly
unfazed by Garrett's presence.
Garrett's eyes narrowed in anger, and his fists clenched tightly in fury. No one had dared to treat him disdainfully
since he gained fame.
Even the highest ranks at the Hall of Gods showed him deference when they encountered him.
Yet, the ragged beggar blatantly disrespected him, treating him as if he was invisible. It infuriated him.
"Filthy beggar! You're going to regret crossing me!" Garrett exploded as his patience wore thin.
In one swift motion, he thrust his hand toward the drunkard's head and unleashed his internal energy.
A loud boom echoed through the air. Then, a colossal white shadow palm descended upon the drunkard like a
mountain.
Instantly, the air warped, and the ground quaked. Before the shadow palm even landed, everyone felt their
breath catch, as if there was a boulder sitting on their chests.
"Oh my god! What intense pressure! Elder Mason must be seriously ticked off!"
"Why did this beggar mess with Elder Mason? He's toast now!"
"Hmph! This arrogant fool deserves whatever's coming to him!"
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As Garrett unleashed his fury, the others were stunned yet secretly pleased.
After all, the unknown drunkard, with his audacity and impressive strength, had utterly disregarded them.
Wouldn't it set a dangerous precedent if his behavior went unchecked?
While Garrett launched his attack, the drunkard remained unperturbed. He calmly sipped his wine as though he
were indifferent to the situation.
It wasn't until Garrett's strike was inches from his head that the drunkard finally reacted. He retaliated with a
powerful blow.
A thunderous boom echoed through the room as Garrett's attack was met with unexpected resistance. His palm
shadow shattered instantly, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.
Nearby martial artists were sent flying like leaves in the wind. They crashed to the ground with cries of pain.
Even Garrett, a grandmaster martial artist, was knocked back several steps. His expression was a mixture of
surprise and frustration.
Meanwhile, the drunkard who had been attacked remained unperturbed and continued with his drink. He was
unfazed and sat there as though he were an outsider observing the chaos around him.
"He's unscathed? How is that even possible?"
"To withstand a blow from a grandmaster and walk away unscathed... Just who is this beggar?"
"Looks can be deceiving. | never would've guessed a beggar could pack such a punch."
Everyone observed in disbelief and astonishment as the extraordinary scene unfolded before them.
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