Inside the dim cinema, Zhong Guoshu slipped in close and pressed a short saber against Xiao Zhenggong's ribs.2

Xiao Zhenggong did not look the least bit concerned. He neither called for help nor made a move. He simply stood there and watched Zhong Guoshu in silence.0

Zhong Guoshu tightened his grip and increased the pressure. He meant to make him bleed, just a little, without taking his life. As a level-five Martial Cultivator, he had precise control over his strength, but no matter how much force he applied, the blade refused to pierce the skin.0

Zhong Guoshu stared at Xiao Zhenggong, shock flickering across his face. According to the Dark Star Bureau's records, Xiao Zhenggong was only a level-three Combatant. There was no way he should have been able to withstand the strength of a fifth-level Combatant.0

Is he wearing armor? Zhong Guoshu thought. Or… is there some kind of enchanted artifact protecting him?0

Xiao Zhenggong smiled, almost kindly, and then, without warning, shot out a hand and caught Zhong Guoshu's wrist.0

A jolt of alarm shot through Zhong Guoshu. He pulled back hard, putting all his strength into it, but the hand gripping him didn't move at all. Xiao Zhenggong barely seemed to try. He pressed down lightly, adjusted his fingers just a little, and twisted it...0