Chapter 73 Colorful Centipede

Boom, boom!

Without hesitation, Jim launched his attack, his momentum unstoppable. With each powerful step, the ground beneath him seemed to buckle, and his every move left deep footprints in its wake.

His fists—hard as steel—swirled through the air toward Alice with tremendous force. She had no choice but to retreat quickly, barely managing to avoid the crushing blows.

The crowd could only watch in awe. "Is this the power of a martial artist?" they whispered, their pupils narrowing in disbelief.

Even Leo, known as the Southern River King and backed by the King of Horizon, could not help but feel a sharp sting of humiliation. If not for his powerful patron, he would have already lost everything to Jim's overwhelming martial skill.

The power of a true martial artist was simply on another level.

But as the fight unfolded, one question gnawed at the minds of those watching: Why was the Shadow Pavilion assassin, Alice, helping them?

In a flash, the two were locked in combat, the air thick with tension. Jim moved like a relentless bull, each punch packed with raw power, while Alice danced around him like a shadow—swift, evasive, and far lighter on her feet.

The battle dragged on for more than ten rounds, and the fight seemed evenly matched, though not in the traditional sense. Jim's brute force versus Alice's speed and precision was a test of endurance.

Bang!

Another clash rang out as Jim's fist collided with Alice's bayonet. She swiftly withdrew, slipping into her evasive tactics once again, aiming to wear him down. Jim could feel the frustration mounting inside him.

The killer from the Shadow Pavilion was indeed a skilled opponent, one whose agility and strategy outpaced his strength. It was clear that head-on combat would be futile. His attacks drained his internal strength, and Alice's constant avoidance had begun to wear him thin.

Jim grimaced, frustration and determination dancing in his eyes. "This killer... She's a real pain to fight," he thought to himself, trying to figure out a way to end the stalemate.

The internal strength of a martial artist was a complex energy that could be refined over years. Jim, while powerful, had not yet reached the mastery required to tap into its full potential. Every blow he landed drained a bit of his energy, and the longer the fight went on, the more perilous it became.

He needed a way to break the deadlock.

Suddenly, Jim's eyes gleamed with a trace of malice. He had an idea.

Without warning, he shifted his fist into a palm and thrust it forward. A brilliant, colorful light shot out of his hand, mesmerizing the onlookers.

Alice's eyes widened in shock as she realized what he had done. She could hardly believe it.

"Centipede!" she gasped, recognizing the technique.

What emerged from Jim's palm was no ordinary attack. A vibrant, multi-colored centipede—its blood-red wings flickering—shot toward her, its bite landing squarely on the back of her hand.

Pain coursed through Alice's body as the poison took effect. Her face turned pale, and her body tensed with the sudden onslaught of venom. She turned to flee, her heart pounding in her chest.

But Jim was unfazed, watching her escape with a smirk of satisfaction.

"Why don't you stop her?" Ned growled, his voice seething with fury. He had witnessed Alice's betrayal, and his anger boiled over. His precious son had been wounded by her, and he wanted nothing more than to see her destroyed.

Jim merely sneered. "The poison will do the job," he said calmly. "She'll come crawling back for the antidote, and at that point, James can deal with her however he pleases."

Ned's mood lightened slightly. The thought of Alice begging for the antidote, at the mercy of his son, was a small comfort.

As Jim opened his palm, the colorful centipede—its task complete—slid back into his body through a blood hole, disappearing with a sharp hiss. Jim winced as the centipede retracted, the process clearly painful.

But once it was gone, Jim's expression returned to its usual cold demeanor. He walked toward Paul, who was writhing in agony on the floor. With a cruel sneer, Jim delivered a final kick to his ribs.

"Your so-called invincible man is poisoned," Jim said, his voice dripping with disdain. "He won't last long. Do you feel hopeless yet?"

Paul could barely lift his head, his face swollen and bloodied, but his eyes still held defiance. Even in his agony, he refused to show fear.

Instead of finishing Paul off, Jim instructed his bodyguards to take him away to prison, where he would be tortured later. For now, the focus was on the more important matter: the fall of the Shadow Pavilion's assassin.

Before leaving, Jim turned to Leo and the others, his gaze cold and contemptuous. "Your backer is nothing more than trash in my eyes. From this moment on, I, Jim, am the true king of New York!"

With that, Jim laughed, a sound full of arrogance and triumph. The Russell Family, now with Jim's martial arts power, was stronger than ever, and their dominance over New York seemed inevitable.

Amy, standing beside him, could hardly contain her satisfaction. Her marriage into the Russell Family was paying off in ways she never dreamed possible. She could already picture Queenie being left behind as the Russell Family solidified its grip on the city.

"Queenie," Amy thought smugly, "no matter how good you are, you'll always be behind me."

Her excitement bubbled over as she imagined the King of Southern River being driven out of New York like a dog, his backer left powerless, and Queenie's downfall inevitable.

The day was coming, and Amy could hardly wait.

Meanwhile, Leo and the others were left standing in stunned silence, their minds heavy with frustration. They knew that the Russell Family would soon be defeated, once the King of Horizon made his move, but it would take two or three days—days that seemed like an eternity.

Every passing moment felt like an age as they anxiously awaited the downfall of the Russell Family, knowing that it was the only thing that would erase the shame they had just endured.

What they didn't know, however, was that the King of Horizon was not even in New York at that moment, unaware of the chaos that was brewing. The situation would have unfolded very differently if Leo had contacted him immediately.

But the King of Horizon's return and his wrathful vengeance would have to wait—just a little longer.