In that moment, Yang Fei dismantled all of Yi Long's limbs at the joints.

From the shoulder joint to the elbow joint, the wrist joint, from the ankle joint to the knee joint, and finally to the hip joint.

These twelve joints, in Yang Fei's hands, were like butchering cattle, each one dislocated sequentially.

Twelve simultaneous dislocations, such agony, is beyond what ordinary people can imagine.

Yet on Yi Long's face, there was no sign of pain.

His face was filled with disbelief, as he screamed out involuntarily, "Tendon-displacement Hand Technique?"

As they say, outsiders watch for the fun, but insiders watch for the art.

After years of practicing Grasping Hand Technique, Yi Long recognized that Yang Fei's technique was indeed the supreme martial art within it.

Tendon-displacement Hand Technique!

It was said that this set of techniques had been lost to time.

But Yi Long never dreamt that this master-level martial arts would be employed by Yang Fei right before his eyes.

There were countless Chinese Martial Arts Masters who excelled in close-combat Grasping Techniques yearning for their whole lives to witness Tendon-displacement Hand Technique, even if just a move or half a move.

However, the technique demonstrated by Yang Fei just now revealed at least three kinds of Grasping Techniques and over ten variations.

Just these three applications of Tendon-displacement Hand Technique alone, once spread, would drive most close-combat Grasping masters insane.

Yi Long lay on the ground, paralyzed in every joint.

But his eyes burned with an incredibly fervent gleam.

Yi Long muttered to himself, "Is this really Tendon-displacement Hand Technique?"

"My god, I'm actually witnessing this supreme martial arts..."

Although Yi Long was defeated, there was no hint of discouragement on his face; his expression alternated between surprise, confusion, and doubt.

He looked at Yang Fei as if a beggar had stumbled upon a mountain of gold.

It was as if a devout monk had seen Spirit Mountain with his own eyes.

Yi Long was overwhelmed with emotion, dazed.

The others, however, were utterly shocked.

All of them had their eyes bulging out.

Yi Long's Martial Arts Skills had already become the stuff of legend in the Underworld of Yannan City.

And yet, this so-called legend was shattered in moments by Yang Fei.

Looking at Yi Long, whose bones had been dislocated and was lying on the ground like a dead dog.

Everyone felt as though thunder was rolling in the sky.

Monster!

Kong Erhu's hand reached into his bosom, grasping tightly to the Da Heixing Handgun; the fat on his chubby face trembled slightly.

Even so, Kong Erhu's face remained impassive.

He said indifferently, "Indeed, you are quite skilled, but with just your brash courage, you still won't amount to much."

Mr. Jing with the goatee smiled at Yang Fei and nodded, "I actually quite admire you. If you're willing to work for Lord Tiger, I can ensure your future is boundless."

"Haha, I actually admire both of you old things even more. Defeated by your underling, yet you have the cheek to recruit me, truly despicable."

Yang Fei looked at the two of them trying to recruit him in this awkward situation and could not help but chuckle.

"You're courting death!"

Kong Erhu flew into a rage.

The Da Heixing Handgun in his chest was already scorching hot from his grip.

But Kong Erhu didn't want to reveal this ultimate weapon until the very last moment.

Huaxia was a gun-free country, and gun-related cases must be solved.

If Kong Erhu fired the gun, even if he killed Yang Fei, he would still bring considerable trouble upon himself.

Yang Fei's eyes narrowed, as he coldly addressed Kong Erhu, "I've said before, whatever concerns the Lanting Hotel concerns me, Yang Fei."

"You've stretched your claws into the Lanting Hotel, and I am here today to seek justice from you."

As he spoke, the dagger in his hand transformed into a streak of cold light and with a thunk, it was nailed onto the room's dice table.

At the same time, the sharp tip of the blade forcefully severed Kong Sanhu's middle finger.

"Ah, big brother, save me!"

Kong Sanhu could never have imagined that Yang Fei would strike at this moment, causing him to scream out loud in pain.

His piercing screams scared all the gangsters, changing the color in their faces.

Kong Erhu could no longer hold back and shouted, "Everyone, attack together, rescue Third Master, and cripple this kid!"

The twenty or so gangsters, clad in security uniforms, all wielded Swing Sticks and Daggers as they charged at Yang Fei, with ferocious intent and a formidable presence.

All the guests were silent as cicadas, staring blankly at Yang Fei.

In this day and age, no matter how skilled in martial arts one might be, they too would fear kitchen knives, and even a fierce tiger could not withstand an attack from a pack of wolves.

This young man had both great courage and martial prowess.

Unfortunately, he encountered the unscrupulous Kong Erhu, and his tragic fate seemed sealed.

Yang Fei sneered coldly, took off his coat, and wrapped it around his fists.

Then, he twisted his waist and spread his legs to warm up his hands and feet.

Finally, Yang Fei took a deep breath, "It's been a long time since I've fought, bump into, my baby."

The moment Yang Fei let out a furious roar, he charged at the twenty or so gangsters like a tiger descending the mountain.

The twenty or so muscular big men charged fiercely like wolves and tigers, initially with an intimidating momentum.

But curiously, as Yang Fei charged forth, his momentum had all the spectators involuntarily thinking of a phrase.

A tiger entering a flock of sheep!

Indeed, as Yang Fei charged into the crowd of more than twenty gangsters, like a splendid tiger, wherever he went, his opponents were scattered.

Clang!

Yang Fei's coat-wrapped fist swung out, smashing onto a gangster's Slicer.

The gangster's hand was numb with shock and upon inspection, his refined steel-made Slicer had bent into an unusable shape.

The gangster's face was filled with terror, and at that moment, Yang Fei's Whip Kick came sweeping across.

Whizz!

Even before the kick landed, a dull whooshing sound cut through the air.

The ferocity was as if hundreds of kilograms of a true, water-powered Great Iron Whip were smashing down.

This gangster and two others were terrified.

Involuntarily, they bent their arms to protect their heads.

Bang!

In the next second, Yang Fei's Whip Kick, along with the elbows meant to protect the three men, heavily struck their shoulders and heads.

Their bodies were flung away as if they'd been struck by a baseball, flying through the air.

The massive force from their collision sent seven or eight more gangsters tumbling to the ground, rolling like gourds.

The muscles at the corners of Kong Erhu's eyes twitched violently.

His pupils were filled with a ferocious blood-red color.

Kong Erhu had never imagined that these more than twenty fierce gangsters would fall within less than a minute.

If Yang Fei were to be compared to a gust of wind,

These gangsters were nothing but fluttering dead leaves.

Wherever the wind passed, it effortlessly swept everything away!

Kong Erhu had spent most of his life in street brawls.

When it came to rich combat experience, what kind of chaotic brawl had Kong Erhu not seen?

But he had never witnessed a one-sided fight like this.

Not to mention one man beating up a dozen others, but Yang Fei's mere presence was enough to completely overpower these men.

In fact, most of the twenty or so gangsters didn't even have the opportunity to fight back before they found themselves inexplicably knocked down.

Some were sent flying by Yang Fei's blows.

But more were knocked down into rolling gourds by their own flung comrades.

One against a hundred!

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