"Exhilarating, isn't it? Fun, right?"
Lin Fan dragged Chen Zhiyu away from the scene of the incident, sparks flying, lightning crackling—he was fast.
Chen Zhiyu's eyes were wide open. "Junior Brother, you hit him! You didn't even say anything beforehand."
"Don't overthink it. Just answer me—wasn't it thrilling?" Lin Fan felt his blood boiling, his heart racing. This was his first time running after punching someone—it was a completely different feeling from killing them outright.
"Thrilling? Thrilling for sure, just... I didn't have time to process it," Chen Zhiyu admitted, still dumbfounded. He hadn't expected his Junior Brother to be so impulsive, striking so swiftly. Not only was the crowd caught off guard; even he'd been unable to react in time.
Lin Fan chuckled. "That's the point. Senior Brother, you said earlier that if we run into disciples from Zhen Tian Peak, we shouldn't hesitate to hit them. So your Junior Brother did just that."
