"It seems that the weapons of the Third Group need to be updated," Zhou Ping'an thought.
Facing a true master, they were of no use at all.
However, although this monster's strength was formidable, it seemed not extremely so and certainly lacked some finer force.
It was merely pure strength.
It couldn't harm people.
As he saw the opponent pounce in front of him again.
This time, Zhou Ping'an didn't stand waiting in his original spot; he thrust his long sword back into its sheath, lunged forward, twisted his waist, and as he mobilized over five thousand kilograms of strength, a faint bright glow emerged at the forefront of his fist.
Under the bright white light, this radiant and firm energy, though not very conspicuous, burst the air, and black ripples appeared in front of his fist.
Puff...
This time.
Two fists collided.
Compared to the previous collision, it was much less noisy.
Yet, the result was surprisingly shattering.
A glimpse of Zhou Ping'an's delicate, pale fist.