Chapter 353 - Then I'll Destroy the Evil Eye Fist Sect

A deafening rumble sounded as the enormous head, over a dozen meters long, plowed through the ground like a speeding train crashing madly into its surroundings.

The bird-like head was grotesque, covered in scales, exuding a savage aura. Its massive beak shimmered with a metallic sheen, faintly tinged with red.

Compared to Feng Liusi's Blood Vulture's Beak, Cassius clearly lacked some finesse. In that battle between Blood Fist and Blade Demon, Feng Liusi's Blood Vulture's Beak had been so crimson that it seemed ready to drip blood—a depth of intensity that was truly astounding. Cassius, at the moment, simply couldn't compare.

However, Blood Vulture's Beak remained Cassius's most powerful single attack, representing his peak explosive force.

Cassius's fighting style had always been somewhat unconventional, distinct from traditional combat artists. Strictly speaking, Cassius wasn't an explosive fighter.

With his extraordinarily robust physique and a multitude of techniques at his disposal, his combat approach had always involved high-frequency, high-intensity close-quarters brawling, allowing him to maintain pressure for extended periods. While he didn't possess the terrifying bursts of power like Blade Demon's Triple-Blade Style Rainbow World, he still held a significant advantage—his incredible physique allowed every punch to rival the secret techniques of combat artists.

Each of his seemingly ordinary punches carried terrifying strength.

Moreover, Cassius's fist speed and reaction time were incredibly fast.

In short, his combat style was uniquely his own.

In fact, Cassius could have worn down his opponent's stamina, just like in his previous battles. He could keenly sense Amos's weaknesses in his third-stage form.

But Cassius didn't choose to do so. Instead, he went head-to-head.

Rumble!!!

On the left side of the street, a red mist roared, while on the right, silver light shone brightly. The entire world seemed to be split before their eyes.

Buzz...

A high-frequency shockwave reverberated, causing a ringing in the ears of anyone nearby.

The Black Ops Agency commissioners, who had retreated to the outskirts of the block, felt their heads spin as the shockwave hit, their hands hurriedly covering their ears.

Crash crash crash...

The visible shockwave swept across the buildings like a tidal wave, causing windows to shatter instantly. Shards of glass clattered to the ground with a crisp sound.

At the point where the two fighters had collided, a cloud of dust and debris exploded like mist, obscuring the view of the battle. Several seconds passed before gusts of wind blew the dust away, revealing the scene on the street.

It was all gone—everything was gone. The buildings had been wiped out!

At the end of Benny Avenue, a gaping hole nearly a hundred meters in diameter appeared. From a bird's-eye view, it resembled a classic explosion's radiating ruin. Buildings, walls, street lamps, and trees all leaned and twisted toward a central point, shattered and broken.

What an unimaginable level of destruction!

Even during wartime, bombing raids wouldn't have caused such devastation.

Clouds rolled in, the wind howling by, and visible dust swirled through the air, mingling with falling debris from the sky.

It rained stones.

In the ruins, on a flattened stretch of ground, two figures remained standing, statuesque and motionless.

They stood just as they had before, facing each other.

Zooming in, the blonde figure—massive and hulking—was bleeding from his torso and chest. His leaden blood dripped heavily to the ground with a steady, audible thud.

His body was as large as a bear's, his skin marred with over a dozen scars, none of them particularly serious. The true danger lay in the gaping hole in his left chest, large enough to fit a bowl.

The edges were ragged and bloody, and through the opening, one could see right through to the other side. The man appeared to have been pierced completely.

He stood motionless, seemingly dead.

Ten meters away, the frail, trembling figure of an old man stood opposite him. Blood trickled from the seven orifices of Amos's weathered face. It had been fifteen years since Amos had fully unleashed his power; the last time was during a life-or-death struggle with three core members of the Gate organization. At the last possible moment, he had staked his life on it, using the Mist Threads to shred everything in their path.

He had survived that fight. Two of the Gate organization's core members were killed on the spot, while the third fled with serious injuries. Amos himself had spent two years bedridden, barely recovering.

He had never expected to enter such a state again in this lifetime. Yet here he was, facing another powerhouse—ferocious, overbearing, and seemingly without weakness.

A combat artist with terrifying strength, near the limits of combat prowess!

Fired up, Amos unleashed everything he had, using his ultimate move, Mist Wind Cascade, from his Violent Storm's Three Limits.

Finally, in their final clash, he gained the upper hand and killed his opponent. Cassius's physique was so formidable that even the supposedly unstoppable Mist Wind Cascade couldn't fully disperse; it had to be concentrated at one point to penetrate his defenses completely.

If viewed from above, the aftermath of Cassius's destruction would reveal a fan-shaped ruin. Hundreds of metallic threads had pierced countless walls and structures, glinting faintly under the moonlight like stars dotting the night sky.

'Cough cough... In the end, this old man has won.'

Amos's frail figure staggered, a relieved smile crossing his face. His elderly appearance flickered momentarily, as if rapidly transforming from old to young, then to a boy.

For some reason, Amos felt something was off.

He had the distinct impression that his opponent knew him very well, always provoking his fighting spirit and anger. It seemed as though Cassius had deliberately wanted a full-scale, all-out fight with him.

Perhaps there had been no malicious intent, merely the obsession of a Covert Martial Arts fanatic wanting to duel. However, when it came to Covert Martial Artists, sparring never ended lightly, especially at the level of combat artists.

Once such immense power entered an excited state, there was no turning back. Both sides would be driven to fight to the death.

It was common for one side to end up dead.

'Sorry, but you were the one who provoked me...' Amos coughed, covering his mouth with his left hand, blood seeping between his fingers. He took two steps forward, only to stumble over a stone, his body pitching forward.

Suddenly, a large hand reached out and grabbed his right hand, steadying him.

'Thank you,' Amos mumbled instinctively, his mind still hazy from the recent battle. In the next second, though, he sensed something was wrong.

'No need to thank me.'

The familiar voice sounded low and hoarse in his ear.

'You!'

Amos jerked his head up, his youthful face contorted in shock. He stared at the person in front of him, utterly disbelieving.

Wasn't this the same Cassius he had just killed?

How had he inexplicably come back to life?

Amos glanced at the gaping wound in Cassius's chest, still dripping blood, then at the infuriating grin on his face.

Taking a deep breath, he muttered, 'You... you have your heart on the right side!'

His voice was hurried, tinged with both regret and resignation. All his careful planning throughout his life, and he had fallen into this trap.

'That's right.'

Cassius paused briefly, then admitted it plainly.

Of course, he wasn't about to mention that he had two hearts—one in each side of his chest. Even if one were destroyed, the other would continue functioning.

Given enough time, the life energy vibrations would eventually restore the shattered heart to its full capacity.

In other words, Cassius essentially had two lives in battle. Besides, they were inexhaustible as both could be restored. In a life-or-death struggle, he could be treated as having three, four, or even five lives.

His greatest advantage was this incredible survival ability, allowing him to endure through any battle like an unkillable cockroach.

'I've lost. Finish it,' Amos said.

Under the moonlight, Amos lowered his head in frustration. He was currently in a youthful state, with a naturally childlike temperament. Yet, his life experiences and knowledge gave him a sense of maturity beyond his years. This odd mix of innocence and wisdom created a unique aura around him.

Suddenly, a large hand landed on top of Amos's head, pressing down slightly, as if it intended to crush his skull in a violent and bloody manner. Amos closed his eyes, preparing for death. However, the hand made no further moves. Instead, in the next moment, it playfully tousled his hair with both hands, making it messy, like someone petting a dog.

"Finally caught you!"

"I've been wanting to mess up this head of yours for ages."

"Acting all deep and mysterious, like some pretentious little kid trying to play grown-up."

Amos's ears buzzed from the poking, and he could faintly hear the man in front of him muttering to himself, saying strange things. Cassius pinched Amos's slightly chubby cheeks and then suddenly remembered that the person before him was actually an old man. His hand twitched, and Amos seized the opportunity to escape.

Amos, his hair now disheveled, stood before Cassius, his gaze somewhat blurry. It was as if he wasn't looking at the man in front of him but at a distant time in the past. In that era, Cassius had only truly remembered three people: Feng Liusi, Saint Feinan, and Amos. While Amos barely made the cut, he could still be considered half a friend.

Their first encounter had begun with a fight, the classic "no friendship without a good fight." And now, as reality merged with the past, they once again met through combat. Amos was the only person Cassius had encountered in the real world after four instances of time-travel.

What was particularly noteworthy was Amos's appearance. Due to certain physical characteristics, his body had remained in its state from fifty years ago, that of a conceited young boy.

Seeing him again stirred memories in Cassius. It felt as though his time-traveling days were overlapping with the present reality, creating a surreal blend of fantasy and reality.

"Come on, let's have a proper chat. As they say, no friendship without a good fight. Truth be told, I'm also an enemy of the Gate organization. You must have noticed earlier. The enemy of my enemy is a friend, right?" Cassius crossed his arms and squinted at the figure in front of him.

"I think if we're going to talk, we should do it at the Beiliu City branch of our Black Ops Agency. What do you say?" Amos quickly tidied his hair, restoring his refined appearance. By now, he had sensed that Cassius had no intention of killing him. Instead, there was a clear offer of cooperation in his words.

That saying about forming friendships through combat actually made sense. Only after fighting at full strength could one truly grasp the other's abilities and even their character. Cassius had defeated Amos, showing off his strength. By letting Amos go, he revealed his goodwill and intention to collaborate. This way, he wouldn't come off as being looked down upon.

Of course, Cassius's urge to fight had been more of a spur-of-the-moment decision. He simply wanted to teach Amos a lesson and see how much his strength had improved over the past fifty years.

"Not really," Cassius coldly shook his head and, with one swift motion, grabbed Amos. Amos tried to dodge, but he was severely injured and couldn't escape. Cassius grabbed him by the back of the neck, easily lifting him.

With a flick of his wrist and a tight grip, Amos was slung over Cassius's arm like a piece of clothing, utterly unable to resist.

"Let me down, you bastard!

"Are you trying to humiliate me? Don't let me catch you!

"Just wait until—"

Thud.

Cassius chopped the back of Amos's neck with his hand, silencing the long-winded complaints as he knocked him out. He gazed at Amos's sleeping, youthful face, realizing that the technique Amos practiced must have issues.

It seemed that the deeper one practiced, the more distinct the split between the different phases became. Amos had three phases: childhood, adulthood, and old age. Each phase had a different personality and mindset, yet they shared the same memories. The stronger Amos became, the more complete and independent each phase felt.

Despite living for seventy or eighty years, Amos's child phase still retained the temperament of a boy—arrogant, foul-mouthed, impulsive, and always pretending to be mature.

Even though he was clearly in his seventies or eighties, his speech still came off like that of a child trying to act like an adult. When agitated, he'd address himself as "this old man," as if constantly trying to emphasize his seniority.

Standing amidst the ruins, Cassius casually carried Amos with one hand while placing the other on his chest, channeling life vibration energy. Warm currents of energy quickly repaired his damaged organs and muscles.

Taking a deep breath, Cassius vanished from the spot.

By 9 PM, the third floor of the Shuiyun Hall was brightly lit.

"Red Falcon Fist of Wenxia County? Saint Ice Sect of Laurent County?" Amos repeated the names Cassius had just mentioned while sitting on a sofa, trying to recall some old information.

Across from him, the blond man had changed into a fresh set of comfortable clothes and was leaning back on a soft sofa, holding a teacup. The cup contained freshly brewed, steaming red tea with milk.

"The Red Falcon Fist has long since declined," Amos began, piecing together his memories. "Fifty years ago, it was quite famous. The sect even produced a top combat artist named Blood Fist, who was nearly unbeatable across the six counties in the east. Unfortunately, he failed to break through the final hurdle and passed away in the mountains.

"As a result, the already not-so-powerful Red Falcon Fist gradually fell into decline. Ten years ago, it was completely swallowed up by the Eastern Nine Sects. The last inheritor of Red Falcon Fist disappeared without a trace."

"The Eastern Nine Sects? Which sect of the Eastern Nine Sects was responsible? Tell me," Cassius asked abruptly, his gaze growing darker and more intense.

"The main one involved should be the Evil Eye Fist of Wenxia County," Amos replied.

Cassius raised his cup, remaining silent for a moment. His black-blue eyes seemed to be shrouded in a layer of blood. "Then I'll destroy the Evil Eye Fist sect."