Both brutes towered over Xu Hao at around 1.8 meters tall, much taller than him. They looked strong and muscular, covered in an armor of sinew, while Xu Hao appeared to be a frail scholar.
The two brutes didn't take Xu Hao seriously at all. One of them swung a slap at Xu Hao and sneered, "Talk nice, talk nice, your grandpa says get lost."
That slap had at least the force of several hundred pounds behind it. In their minds, such a blow would have sent Xu Hao flying several meters away, if not outright disfiguring him, right?
However, the result shocked the brutes.
The slap the brute aimed at Xu Hao was blocked, and he felt as if his arm had smashed into a slab of steel. A deep, bone-piercing pain shot through his arm.
They had come up against a master! That was the brute's first thought, and he tried to forcibly withdraw his arm.
But Xu Hao was quicker; he grabbed the brute's hand and, with a sudden twist, he snapped it.
Crack!