Can't control it?
Zhang Beixing understood readily, having roughly guessed by now.
Suddenly rising from a Class B Martial Artist to a Great Grandmaster-level Martial Artist.
The difference in combat power here is even greater than between a three-year-old child and the world champion in kickboxing.
Zhang Beixing once thought that it was quite extraordinary that Leng Bing hadn't died from being unable to withstand this explosive power.
"Try slapping this table in front of you."
Zhang Beixing said.
The table in front of Leng Bing was made of stainless steel.
Its thickness was considerable as well.
Even aiming at this table with a submachine gun would likely require emptying a magazine to penetrate it.
Leng Bing nodded, closed his eyes to gather himself for a moment, and then struck boldly.
His palm speed wasn't fast.
He lightly slapped the table surface.
