The Luckiest Dumb Doctor-Chapter 722 - Nothing special_1
Chapter 722: Chapter 722 Nothing special_1
Chapter 722 -722 Nothing special_1
The old man didn’t respond to his remark, instead threatening coldly:
“You actually had the guts to barge into the Liberty Alliance, truly audacious to the extreme! Unfortunately, it’s time for this farce to end!”
Boom!
The moment his words fell, the old man leapt up, rapidly ascending into the sky, vanishing from sight.
The next second, he had stealthily moved to Greg Jensen’s side, his explosive breath mingled in his fist, ferociously smashing towards his forehead.
It could be said that he had pushed his speed to the limit!
“So fast!”
Greg Jensen’s eyebrows raised, and he quickly reacted, meeting the punch head-on.
With a thunderous roar, their fists collided, and the powerful shockwave at their point of contact rapidly spread in all directions, kicking up dust and shaking the ground.
In their first exchange, neither gained the slightest advantage.
This truly surprised the old man, but he knew that his opponent must have some real strength to be wreaking havoc here alone; perhaps the realm he had sensed was merely concealed intentionally.
With this thought, he went all out, his fists alternating like a machine gun, bombarding without giving Greg Jensen a chance to breathe.
Greg Jensen was not to be outdone; he also wanted to see just how much difference there was between himself and an eighth-level powerhouse. Clenching his teeth, he countered punch for punch.
Their confrontation was a true exchange of blow for blow, neither dodging in the entire process. From a distance, one could only see their intertwining fists creating a dizzying array of phantoms, with continuous heavy thuds showing no sign of stopping.
Worth mentioning, while engaging, Greg Jensen constantly used the techniques of Poison Immersion Finger secretly, threading poison into his Dark Strength, seizing the moment before the old man could react, injecting it into his body to remain hidden.
Boom!
Suddenly, following an exchange of punches, as if realizing that continuing this way would not determine a victor, both parties disengaged immediately, maintaining a distance of ten meters and facing each other.
“You… you’re not fifth-level?”
The old man was the first to speak, his body showing some bruising, but fortunately, they were superficial wounds which did not greatly affect him.
But his heart was extremely shocked, because after a bout of fighting, his opponent showed no sign of disadvantage, instead growing stronger as the fight progressed, making him suffer quite a loss.
He even began to feel a numbness in his hands and a significant slowing of his blood circulation.
Upon closer inspection, Julius! His entire hand was showing a light black aura, signs of poisoning!
The bastard had been secretly using poison during their engagement, and he had been completely unaware.
For a moment, the old man’s complexion fluctuated, and veins throbbed on his forehead.
Greg Jensen watched him with a smirking gaze, taunting:
“You aren’t an eighth-level either! Otherwise, you wouldn’t have let me gain the upper hand after that exchange of punches!”
Seeing the old man’s mouth twitch slightly, Greg Jensen knew he had guessed correctly and continued:
“You should still be lingering at the peak of the seventh level, right? Or should I say, you’re just a pseudo eighth-level?”
“You!”
The old man, provoked by these words, couldn’t help but curse:
“So what? At the peak of the seventh level, I can still kill you!”
“Really? Heh, such bold words from an old man. After being poisoned by me and lacking a solid foundation, you still dare to talk big?”
Greg Jensen was full of scorn, and without further ado, locked onto his opponent, flicked his finger, and unleashed Limitless Swordplay to its extreme. Amidst the crisscrossing Sword Qi that shifted ever-changingly, an overwhelming onslaught descended from the sky.
The old man dared not be careless and quickly mobilized all his Spiritual Energy, hoping to dispel it in one strike.
Yet, the result was beyond his expectation; as he pushed the Spiritual Energy more vigorously, the venom that had entered his body spread through him at an even faster pace, reaching his internal organs in just a moment.
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“This…”
He was slightly taken aback, his face pale with fright. Unfortunately, before he could make any additional moves, the swarming Sword Qi instantly landed on him, slashing his skin and muscles open and severing his meridians.
In just two to three seconds, he collapsed on the spot, motionless.
“Ha, a seventh-level peak, that’s all there is to it!”
Greg Jensen chuckled lightly, striding over to the elder and removing his Storage Ring.
Upon briefly inspecting the Storage Ring, Greg found to his surprise that it contained many treasures and cultivation resources, as well as numerous martial arts secrets—a collection of the old man’s lifelong treasures!
“Next, it’s time to have a talk with those three fellows!”
Greg collected his thoughts and, with a single sword stroke, beheaded the old man. Holding the head aloft, he strode toward the center base of the Three Great Alliances.
…
Five minutes later.
An impromptu military center base.
“Mr. Stephen, there are only ten minutes left until the half-hour timeframe set by the Dragon King’s Palace. Why haven’t we heard anything from the eighth-level powerhouse yet? Could something unexpected have happened?!”
Shaun Sims’s heart was in turmoil as he paced back and forth in the camp, repeatedly urging an update.
Stephen glanced at him dismissively, “An eighth-level powerhouse is among the top-tier existences in the entire world. That Owen stands no chance against him!”
Thud!
Little did they know, as his words had barely left his mouth, a round, blood-drenched head was suddenly thrown in from outside the door.
“Is this the eighth-level powerhouse you spoke of, this old man?!”
“Ah!!”
The sudden appearance of the bloody head shocked the three heavily burdened leaders, eliciting a cry of alarm as they reflexively pushed away from the table and fell backwards.
But it was Stephen… He forced himself to remain calm, swallowing hard, his face pale as he examined the head.
“This, this is… This is actually Mr. Derek Miller!? How is this possible?”
Derek Miller was the eighth-level powerhouse they had been counting on to eliminate Owen Anderson.
In the past, while at the army camp, Stephen had the chance to see him from a distance in a crowd, an encounter that left a lasting impression.
Never had he imagined that after decades without seeing Mr. Miller, their next meeting would be under such circumstances!
Tap tap tap—
While the three were in a state of terror, a set of footsteps grew closer from outside the camp, and soon they saw a young man appear before them.
“Owen… Owen Anderson?!”
At the same moment, they simultaneously exclaimed his name, their voices filled with shock and fear, devoid of the earlier arrogance.
For this young man to show up here and toss Derek Miller’s head out, it was clear evidence that he was the killer; not to mention, the soldiers guarding the base had all been silently dealt with!
Without exaggeration, Owen Anderson’s appearance was tantamount to signing their death warrants.
Greg Jensen said nothing, but simply took a seat at the head of the table, looking down on them from above.
His sharp gaze, intertwined with a thick aura of homicide, solidified into an overwhelming pressure in mid-air, enveloping the three men.
As a result, Shaun Sims, Mike Johnson, and Stephen were instinctively holding their breath, their hearts virtually stopping. Wanting to shout some warning, they found the words died on their lips, unable to utter a single sound.
