"Ghost Scythe, I hope you're not out of clay explosives yet."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the muscle of his recently scabbed-over leg tensed abruptly, emitting a faint sound like steel cables being twisted together.
Then, his right foot stomped heavily onto the rubble-strewn ground.
"Boom!"
A thunderous crash like muffled thunder.
The thick concrete slope underfoot instantly collapsed and fell, with web-like cracks frantically spreading outwards.
With this terrifying force as a springboard, Fang Cheng's body once again broke through the sound barrier.
In the narrow ruins of the floor, he pulled out a visibly white shockwave.
Without a word, his fist swung out fiercely.
"Because, the warm-up session has just ended!"
This guy!
Ghost Scythe's pupils contracted sharply, alarms blaring in his mind.
Logically, Fang Cheng's severe injuries had just healed, and it should be the time when old strength is exhausted and new strength hasn't been born yet.
