Chapter 273 - 173: Plucking a Heart with Bare Hands, Challenging the Heroes of the World

Chapter 273: Chapter 173: Plucking a Heart with Bare Hands, Challenging the Heroes of the World

The Secret Palace.

When those two words left the other man’s mouth, Wan Ze lifted his gaze slightly.

"Your Secret Palace dares to come to the Holy City?" he asked, looking at the middle-aged man, his voice neither high nor low. "Aren’t you afraid you won’t be leaving tonight?"

The Holy City was Dragon Eagle’s territory, and the relationship between the Secret Palace and Dragon Eagle had never been friendly.

In the game between these two behemoths, public pleasantries were few and far between. Beneath the surface, it was all daggers drawn. This was an indisputable fact. Of course, whether Dragon Eagle had made any private deals with the Secret Palace was something beyond Wan Ze’s knowledge.

"You can try me!"

The man with the braid finally lost his patience. He leaned out from behind the middle-aged man, his eyes fixed on Wan Ze, filled with a defiant challenge typical of the young.

Wan Ze looked over at him.

The instant their eyes met, the man with the braid felt something he couldn’t quite put into words.

This indifference was even more unsettling than killing intent.

The man with the braid’s aggressive nature flared up. Without yielding an inch, he gritted his teeth and glared back.

His blood boiled in his veins, adrenaline surged, and his heart hammered as he stared viciously.

But in a flash,

Wan Ze moved.

His body seemed to vanish from the spot.

’He’s going to make a move?’

The eyes of the man with the braid lit up. Once he confirmed this thought, he instinctively wanted to charge forward to meet the attack.

He pushed off with his left leg, shifted his weight forward, and clenched his fingers into a fist, preparing to strike.

But the middle-aged man was faster.

Somehow, the middle-aged man had already moved in front of the man with the braid. He raised his right arm, forearm held horizontally across his chest, and forcibly blocked Wan Ze’s punch.

"THUD!"

A dull thud echoed through the alley, like two iron plates slamming together.

The middle-aged man’s leather shoes scraped a mark across the ground, the soles screeching harshly against the pavement.

His body swayed and his shoulder blades jolted back, but his feet didn’t move an inch.

Even so, the middle-aged man was secretly alarmed.

The force of Wan Ze’s punch was more than double what he had estimated.

Unseen by others, his forearm bone had emitted a faint "CRACK" under the immense pressure of that instant.

He had been in Cultivation of the Martial Dao for over twenty years, tempering his muscles and bones countless times. A punch from an ordinary Martial Artist would feel like a mere tickle.

But this young man, who had been on the path of the Martial Dao for less than half a year, had actually made him feel pain with a single punch.

Wan Ze casually retracted his fist and stood still. His gaze shifted from the man with the braid to the middle-aged man’s face as he said coldly, "Is this what you call sincerity?"

The middle-aged man was silent.

He turned around.

He faced the man with the braid.

Before the man with the braid could even register what had happened, he saw the middle-aged man’s hand rise...

"SMACK!"

A resounding slap.

It was crisp and vicious.

The man with the braid’s head was knocked to the side. He stumbled a step, clutching his face, his lips trembling.

"One more useless word, and I’ll cut out your tongue." The middle-aged man’s voice wasn’t loud, it could even be described as calm, but every word carried a chill that ran down the spine.

The color drained from the face of the man with the braid. His lips moved, but in the end, he didn’t dare say a word. He lowered his head and retreated, not daring to look at Wan Ze again.

The middle-aged man turned back around, the gloom on his face vanishing as if by magic, replaced once again by that polite, gentle smile.

He looked at Wan Ze calmly, as if the scene just now had never happened.

"The new guy doesn’t know the rules. I hope you’ll forgive him, Mr. Wan." He gave a slight bow and continued, "I’m sure you are aware of the Secret Palace’s methods. Since our previous encounter was a misunderstanding, there’s no need to let it ruin the peace between us. The Secret Palace has never feared Dragon Eagle; it is merely a matter of the price to be paid. If we truly want something, no one can stop us."

In other words: ’It’s not that I can’t defeat you, I just don’t think it’s worth the trouble.’

"However..." The middle-aged man’s tone suddenly shifted. His smile faded slightly as he grew serious. "The item that was in Sun Beixi’s possession—I hope you will hand it over to us."

Wan Ze frowned but said nothing.

The middle-aged man’s tone became sincere, as if confiding a secret. "You and I both know where that thing comes from. Keeping it in your hands will only lead to endless trouble. The Secret Palace has a dedicated research team, as well as the experience and equipment to handle such artifacts. Handing it over to us is the best choice for everyone."

Wan Ze looked at him and sneered, "If you know about the item Sun Beixi had, then you should also know that its contents are extremely difficult to decipher. Surely the Secret Palace’s intelligence network is capable of finding out that much?"

The middle-aged man’s smile froze for a moment.

Wan Ze had hit the nail on the head.

They had once managed to obtain two words from the booklet’s contents. They had indeed studied them, struggling for several months before barely managing to decipher them, but those two words were incredibly enticing.

This was also why they were in such a hurry to find Wan Ze.

It wasn’t because they wanted the booklet itself, but because they wanted to know what was written in it.

"I probably threw that booklet out long ago," Wan Ze said casually. "But if you want the translation... I’m willing to make a deal."

The middle-aged man narrowed his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if Wan Ze was bluffing.

This young man was too calm, so calm that it made him feel uneasy.

This was the most fearsome kind of opponent at the negotiating table—you could never tell if he was holding a good hand or not, because his expression never changed.

"If you don’t believe me, then forget it." Seeing the man’s silence, Wan Ze turned to leave.

The middle-aged man gritted his teeth. Just as Wan Ze took his third step, he spoke up: "Wait."

Wan Ze stopped without turning back.

"What are your terms for this deal, Mr. Wan?" the middle-aged man asked, his tone now tinged with a hint of resignation.