His fists blurred—strikes sharp enough to crack stone, kicks compressed with mana. He attacked from multiple angles, slipping between Jin Di's guard, weaving in and out with ghostlike swiftness, using whatever he learned from Adam.
However, Jin Di didn't step back.
He didn't even sway.
He simply blocked.
Every strike—palm, knuckle, sweep, hook—was stopped with minimal movement, almost lazy in appearance but impossibly precise.
Jin Di's arms followed Lin Fang's rhythm like a musician hearing the next note before it was played. His forearms intercepted blows before they reached full momentum; his foot slid a hairbrush's width to deflect a kick without meeting its full force.
Lin Fang felt like he was punching a mountain wearing human skin.
This guy… is a monster in human form.
Jin Di chuckled mid-block. "Not bad, Alpha. But if this is your full offense—"
His hand shot forward.
Not a punch.
Just a tap.
