Lin Yun waited right there, showing no sign of leaving. At his feet, the lanky man and his cronies wailed in agony, each clutching their mouths.
More and more Direct Disciples gathered to watch, until nearly thirty of them were observing from a short distance away.
Lin Yun's expression was calm. For him, dealing with this group was nothing to be proud of. He was waiting for the ones who sent them—they were the ones who truly deserved a beating.
He waited for less than fifteen minutes before a group of five men swaggered over menacingly. The leader wore a cold expression, and it was clear from his face that he was extremely displeased.
The watching Direct Disciples parted, clearing a path for the group of five. The leader, a man in his twenties with plain looks—neither handsome nor ugly—stopped directly in front of Lin Yun.
"Kid, you dare injure my men?" the man demanded as soon as he arrived, looking as if he wanted to eat Lin Yun alive.
