The air was filled with curses, roars, and the thud of fists and feet colliding with flesh. The skirmish, which pitted five against more than twenty, came to an end after about ten minutes.
Completely unharmed, Li Qiuzhe sat on the ground, gasping for air. Looking at the men howling on the ground, he trembled in disbelief. "Did… did we really do all this?"
"Boss, if we didn't do it, was it ghosts? I've now witnessed the fierce combat prowess of Northeasterners firsthand! You fought like a mad dog, never letting go! Thank goodness for Fourth Brother; otherwise, you would've been knocked down several times!" Wang Dalu panted, his words coming in fits and starts.
Ten minutes ago, he was certain they would be the ones beaten half-dead on the ground. Who could have expected such a turnaround? Were the opponents just that weak, or had they somehow unleashed their hidden potential? He didn't know. All he knew was that it all felt so unbelievable!
