"Stop him! Stop him now!"
Viscount Harrington's voice came in exasperation.
A tall and burly figure abruptly appeared in front of Chen Lun.
Through the thick scarf and wide-brimmed hat, Chen Lun could only see a pair of cold, pitch-black eyes. Then, the towering bodyguard swung a fist at him.
The air around them seemed to compress, a ring of steam burst out from the man's elbow with a hissing sound, and the iron fist ferociously flew toward Chen Lun's face.
"Interesting."
Chen Lun said with a smile.
Bang!
He casually raised a hand and effortlessly caught the iron fist in his palm.
Air dispersed in all directions, and the whole room, constructed of iron sheets, trembled momentarily.
"Ugh!"
Seeing this scene, Viscount Harrington wore a look of shock on his face and let out an involuntary cry from his throat.
Crack! Crack!
Squeak—!