Chapter 151

Emerson's face paled. Hearing Gilmore's words, he realized all the mansion's bodyguards were dead. He glared at Gilmore, spitting, "You are the masked man who killed my housekeeper?"

Gilmore replied, "Indeed. I killed your housekeeper, Cooper, and his friend, Dean. Soon, you'll join them."

Emerson laughed furiously. "No one in Oakhaven dares kill me! Who sent you? Why did you stop me from killing Gilmore? Who are you?"

Gilmore said, "Emerson, enough nonsense. Fight me. I'll tell you who I am before you die."

"Arrogant! Fine. After I kill you, I'll find out who you are and make everyone involved pay!" Emerson gritted his teeth, assuming a fighting stance. He resembled a ferocious tiger, radiating a murderous aura. His eyes were piercing; his white hair and clothes fluttered despite the stillness of the air, a telltale sign of internal mana. He was a junior internal force martial artist. The air currents were his internal mana, making him far stronger than an external force martial artist. He believed his attack could tear the masked man apart. A sharp light flared in his eyes.

"Emerson, if you think you can kill me, then come! Let's see what you've got!" Gilmore unexpectedly retorted, flipping Emerson the middle finger from a few meters away. His words and gesture showed utter contempt.

Emerson's face contorted. This was unprecedented humiliation. While not as strong as Denton, Oakhaven's strongest, even Denton wouldn't have disrespected him. Gilmore's actions enraged him.

Chapter 151 (Continued)

Instantly, Emerson moved with incredible speed, his palms like blades as he ferociously attacked Gilmore. A gale whipped up, causing Gilmore's black clothes to billow. In the blink of an eye, Emerson stood before Gilmore, poised to strike.

Bang!

Emerson's razor-sharp palms struck Gilmore's chest. Internal mana surged, making his palms glow red-hot. This was the Fiery Palm, his life's work, a technique that had slain countless masters. His palms were meant to pierce straight through.

However, Gilmore seemingly ignored the attack, letting Emerson strike his chest.

"Crack! Snap!" The sound of breaking bones echoed. Emerson cried out in agony, "Ouch!" His Fiery Palm failed to pierce Gilmore; instead, all five fingers on his right hand were broken, and his palm bled profusely. The pain was unbearable. He couldn't believe his deadly technique had been stopped, as if it hit steel. The force of his strike had broken all his right-hand finger bones.

Emerson stumbled back, anger flashing in his eyes. "Are you wearing armor?" he demanded. He assumed Gilmore's ability to withstand the attack and break his own bones indicated armor.

Gilmore sneered, "I don't need armor to fight a junior internal force martial artist like you."

Emerson was shocked. "How is that possible? He's not wearing armor?" The masked man had stopped his Fiery Palm without armor.

Chapter 151 (Continued)

Emerson concluded Gilmore must be at least an intermediate internal force martial artist. He'd never encountered such a formidable opponent. Aside from Denton, the only other intermediate internal force martial artist in Oakhaven, all others were junior level. Gilmore was likely from elsewhere. As a junior internal force martial artist, Emerson knew he was outmatched.

"Sir, is there a feud between us?" Emerson asked, hoping to understand if there was any personal animosity. If not, the masked man was hired, and he could offer money to resolve the situation.

Gilmore's reply crushed his hopes. "I do have a grudge against you." He looked Emerson in the eye. "What other skills do you have? Show me! You can't escape."

Emerson wanted to flee, but Gilmore's words dashed any hope. Hatred filled his eyes. He would fight to the death. He unleashed all his internal mana, his clothes and hair billowing. His injured right hand notwithstanding, he threw a powerful punch.

"Boom!"

The violent internal mana vibrated through the air. Emerson, eyes bulging, resembled a mad lion, all his internal mana focused in his fist. He aimed to kill them both.

Gilmore remained calm, countering with a punch of his own. The force created astonishing ripples in the air, engulfing the living room.

Emerson's eyes widened in shock at the tidal wave of energy. It was impossible! This man possessed power far beyond an internal force martial artist; he was a Master, perhaps even a Grandmaster!

"Bang!"

Their fists collided, causing a tremor. Emerson felt his knuckles crack; the bones in his left arm shattered, crackling like firecrackers. He felt like he was being executed, the pain excruciating. His scream echoed.

Crash!

He flew backward like a cannonball, smashing into the wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across the wall; he plummeted to the floor, a cloud of dust erupting. Blood spurted from his body.

Gilmore approached, kneeling beside him. Emerson looked up, his face contorted, blood flowing from his mouth. Gilmore said, "Didn't you want to know who I am? I'm Gilmore, the man you wanted to kill."

Emerson's eyes were full of regret. He could only manage one bloody word: "You"

His head slumped into the pool of blood; he was dead. Gilmore rose, disappearing into the night, like a lone eagle vanishing into the darkness.

(Note: The promotional text at the end was removed as it's not part of the story itself.)