Chapter 636

Chapter 636: Veni! Vedi! Vici!

Lin Mo tightly gripped "Tank" Bal’s massive fist, gradually closing his hand around it. The immense force made Bal realize he had underestimated his opponent; this man was far from simple.

"Damn it, I was careless!"

If he had known better, he would have launched a continuous combo attack right from the start, not giving the other any chance to fight back.

But it was too late; the grip on Bal’s hand felt like it was made of steel, and he found himself unable to pull away. The increasing pressure was already causing him pain.

With fingers connected to his heart, the unbearable agony made "Tank" Bal break into a sweat, his face shifting from red to pale, then back to red, finally turning a shade of purple.

He felt utterly embarrassed for letting this kid get the upper hand and felt regret seep in.

"You brat! If you have guts, let go! Let’s settle this like men in the arena."

Bal gritted his teeth, forcing out some grand words, but they did little to ease the sensation that his fist was about to be crushed.

"And what if I say no?"

Lin Mo’s tone remained unchanged, as if he were squeezing a mere chicken.

Around them, people began to sense that something was off; the standoff had dragged on for too long.

"Tank" Bal’s friends noticed it as well.

"Then you can die!"

Bal quickly pulled a gun from behind his back, aiming at Lin Mo’s head with lightning speed.

Bang!

He was overly confident, maybe even too confident.

The bullet whizzed past Lin Mo’s ear, missing by just three centimeters. Lin Mo didn’t even blink, as if he had merely avoided an insignificant fly.

No matter how large the caliber or how powerful the bullet, if it doesn’t hit its target, it’s meaningless.

If Bal had aimed for Lin Mo’s body, it might have achieved its intent.

“Bastard, stop! Bal!”

Eagle King David de Hitt suddenly pushed the woman off him and shouted toward Lin Mo and Bal.

He realized the moment "Tank" Bal drew his weapon that things were going wrong; he only intended to have his security team give that clueless kid a hard time.

He never expected hot-headed Bal wouldn’t back down even a little. If he killed Lin Mo, this trip would have been for nothing.

If he truly wanted to eliminate Lin Mo on the ground, why bother attending "Abyss Nirvana?" He could just hire an assassin.

In the deadly aerial battle of "Abyss Nirvana," taking out Lin Mo during the air conflict would have been fine, but if Lin Mo was allowed to die at Bal’s hands, the Chinese would surely be furious.

Those who disregard the rules would face revenge from all participants in the game, leaving Bal doomed.

Eagle King David de Hitt couldn’t bear to imagine the retribution from the Chinese and the organizers of "Abyss Nirvana," but he couldn’t stop it either. The enraged "Tank" had already lost his sanity.

In Bal’s mind, Lin Mo was nothing but trash, but it was unacceptable for trash to stand above him.

Damn it, Bal wanted to pull the trigger again, but Lin Mo wouldn’t comply; with a slight tremor, Bal’s body shifted.

The misfire hit a nearby light bulb, causing a flash of electric light and sending shards of glass flying. Nearby people ducked quickly, fearing that those tiny glass pieces might hit their eyes.

“Bal, you bastard! Are you trying to commit murder? Put the gun down!”

Someone shouted in anger, clearly caught in the chaos.

“Uh, sorry! I’ll take care of this brat right now…”

Bal recognized the voice; it was the French ace pilot, Sean Usenaar. The bodyguards beside him were no pushovers; they were some of the fiercest warriors from the foreign legion, and in just a few days at the base, they had already taken out three people.

As long as the pilot was safe, "Abyss Nirvana" wouldn’t care about the lives of the accompanying mechanics and security personnel. For them, the pilots who could go to battle were their source of profit.

Before Bal could finish speaking or redirect his aim, he suddenly found himself yanked off the ground.

“Hmph! You reckless fool.”

Lin Mo coldly snorted, and with a flick of his hand, even "Tank" Bal, who had braced himself for a third shot at Lin Mo, was overpowered by a tremendous force. He instantly lost his balance and, amidst gasps of surprise, was lifted high and slammed down onto the ground.

“Ah!…”

Bal crashed to the ground with a loud wail, his weight becoming his greatest vulnerability.

The impact felt like an earthquake shook the ground, comparable to dropping a rat.

Surrounding people fell silent, unable to believe that an Asian man, who stood two heads shorter than Bal, could slam such a rhinoceros-like U.S. Marine to the ground like a heavy sandbag.

The visual contrast was immense.

“Damn it, I’m going to kill you.”

Displaying impressive resilience, "Tank" Bal truly lived up to his tough-skinned nickname, cursing as he struggled to get up. However, the arm Lin Mo had grabbed was clearly twisted in an unnatural way, and a leg had also become deformed. Blood spilled from his mouth, indicating severe internal injuries.

With a casual toss, even a water buffalo would be thrown away; with Bal’s weight of around two hundred pounds, it truly took no more effort than tossing a pillow.

“Damn it!”

Eagle King David de Hitt hadn’t expected Lin Mo to be tougher to deal with than he imagined, and Bal had actually suffered a terrible loss, clearly injured on the spot.

“Ants!”

Lin Mo looked at Bal with the gaze one might reserve for the dead. As Bal swayed and tried to stand, attempting to pick up the gun that had fallen to the ground, Lin Mo suddenly lifted his leg.

Boom!… A roar of surprise followed.

A broad-shouldered man flew sideways and crashed into the wall of the “Nest” club, creating a large hole.

Although the wall was prefabricated, it was sturdier than expected.

Sunlight streamed generously down, and Bal’s body lay limp several meters away, no longer twitching or moving. Thick, dark blood slowly pooled beneath him, silent as night.

His contorted body testified that a living soul had been extinguished in an instant.

The club erupted in shouts and screams.

Murder!

“Damn it!”

Smack!… David de Hitt, with a pale face, crushed the wine glass in his hand. His bodyguard had failed to provoke Lin Mo, and had instead been eliminated on the spot.

Lin Mo’s gaze locked onto David de Hitt once more.

David de Hitt could clearly see the provocation and mockery in Lin Mo’s eyes, all fully returned to him.

“Kill him!”

"Avengers for Bal!"

"Kid, you’re dead!"

David de Hitt’s bodyguards jumped up in rage at the death of their comrade, each pulling out their guns to take out Lin Mo.

The collective display of weapons threw the club into chaos, with many people scattering; some fled outside while others hid behind tables and chairs to avoid stray bullets.

Before those people could even aim their guns, Lin Mo moved, and his figure vanished from everyone’s sight.

Knight Assault!

Crack!

A big man’s neck snapped.

The complex layout of the bar did nothing to slow him down.

In a sudden powerful charge, another big man flew through the wall; he suffered even worse than Bal, unable to handle the intense impact and shattering into pieces mid-air.

Two large holes in the wall should have made it clear to everyone—before the powerful Dragon Knight, any individual soldier was weak.

Lin Mo turned back and punched a third person’s head, exploding it, then continued…

It was slaughter—a blatant slaughter.

Like a real tank, he ruthlessly rolled over everything, unleashing a blood-soaked storm.

A scene of sheer terror!

No one had ever imagined they would witness such a horrifying sight, where life was as fragile as slaughtering chickens or dogs; anyone who charged at Lin Mo was effortlessly annihilated.

These people were real soldiers; how could they be killed so easily? Even with guns in hand, they were no more effective than daggers, unable to even pull the trigger.

Was that guy carrying a military pack some kind of demon risen from hell?

"Stop, ‘Dragon Knight’!"

When David de Hitt shouted this, he realized it was too late.

The elite soldiers from the U.S. Marines special forces he had brought with him were all dead on the spot.

"Hey! ‘Eagle King,’ I’m here!"

Lin Mo, carrying his belongings, greeted David de Hitt as if he had just completed an insignificant task, utterly relaxed.

"You! You…"

David de Hitt’s face turned pale with rage, trembling as he pointed at Lin Mo. After a long pause, he managed to say, "Alright, ‘Dragon Knight,’ let’s settle this. I’m waiting for you."

"Okay!"

Lin Mo succinctly maintained his quiet demeanor. With greetings over, there was nothing left to linger on. He turned without hesitation.

Quietly I left,

Just as quietly as I arrived;

I waved my sleeve,

And stirred a wave of death.

This truly matched Lin Mo’s callous nature towards life, and once he broke free from the constraints of the Chinese military, the world would witness the terror of the Dragon Knight.

As David de Hitt gazed at Lin Mo’s unguarded back, he wanted to draw his gun and shoot him in the back, but his inner sense warned him—the thought of attacking this ferocious beast was foolish beyond measure.

Veni! Vidi! Vici!

For some reason, the other people present all shared the same short phrase as they watched Lin Mo’s departing figure in unison.

I came, I saw, I conquered!