Chapter Twenty-Three: Hunting Down the Gao Family (Part One)

"Heh, her hands are indeed fast to the point of being inhuman." Yan Tian narrowed his eyes, staring out past the pitch-black courtyard gate. Gao Lan’s figure had completely merged into the night; even with Yan Tian’s extraordinary vision, she was no longer visible.

"She is not an artificial god," Xia Tianling said with certainty. "Although we are not part of the Divine State, we have been keeping an eye on them for certain reasons. The 'Fastest Hands in Asia,' Sprite, only rose to fame this year. Judging by her age, she must have joined the Divine State’s assassin organization this year as well."

"I know she isn’t an artificial god," Yan Tian’s eyes glinted with a dangerous light, "but she isn't an ordinary person either. Hmph, my One-Finger Zen could pierce right through Officer Leng’s body, yet it couldn't even penetrate her shoulder. You might not have felt it, but I could clearly sense it... she possesses a remarkably profound internal energy."

As he spoke, he walked over to the iron gate that had been knocked into the yard and peered down at it.

There was a small palm print imprinted on the iron gate. The print wasn't perfectly clear, but the fact that it had sent the gate flying with a single strike spoke volumes about the power behind it.

It was no wonder there were no signs of damage on the front of Gao Lan’s sports car; the gate hadn't been knocked off by the car at all, but by her own hand.

He had always assumed he was the only one in the world to possess authentic internal energy, believing that even the artificial gods only possessed their incredible abilities due to extraordinary brain development. Now, seeing another person who wielded internal energy, Yan Tian didn’t know what to make of the feeling in his heart.

When a unique sense of superiority is shattered by reality, the resulting sense of loss is indescribable. Yet, at the same time, realizing that he was not the only one in his field lightened the burden of his previous isolation.

Dugu Qiubai did not die of old age; he died of loneliness.

"Excuse me, could you tell me what exactly is going on?" Shi Kexin raised her hand to ask. Tonight’s events had been too shocking, and she couldn't process them yet. Not everyone gets to witness a shootout, let alone hear a conversation she couldn't even begin to understand.

"Officer Leng, please tell Kexin the whole story. Don't hide anything from her," Yan Tian said as he walked toward the house. "I’m going to get changed and take care of some business. I’ll leave the house to you two for now."

"Where are you going?" Leng Bingtong asked.

"To kill someone," Yan Tian replied sullenly. "I’ve finally built up this killing intent; I might as well use it while it lasts to track Gao Lan, find Gao Qianduo, and finish him off."

"Didn't you just say you were going to start officially hunting that Gao fellow tomorrow?" Leng Bingtong’s eyes widened.

"I lied," Yan Tian waved his hand. "Wait until tomorrow? By tomorrow, he won't even know where to hide. If it weren't for the need to track Gao Lan to find Gao Qianduo’s location, do you think I would have let her go?"

"Please, could you not talk about killing in front of a police officer?" Leng Bingtong rolled her eyes.

Yan Tian chuckled as he entered the house. He hadn't killed anyone yet, and he felt a certain fear toward the act. However, when he activated his "Heavenly Eye," the bone-deep temptation to create death and taste the scent of blood became impossible to resist.

Gao Lan stumbled along the suburban road. She walked slowly at first, but her pace quickened until her previously limp arms began to swing rhythmically, and her feet moved as if she were stepping on wheels of fire, sprinting like the wind.

Her facial expressions were a spectacle—at times gnashing her teeth in hatred, at others breaking into a shy, bashful smile; sometimes pouting like a little girl, and other times twisting her face into that of a fierce, demonic hag.

Focused on her own internal mood swings, she failed to notice the tail following her.

Yan Tian followed Gao Lan from a distance of about a kilometer. The suburban view was open; although the moonlight was dim, Yan Tian channeled his energy into his pupils, activating his Heavenly Eye. Even from a kilometer away, he could see her clearly.

Dressed entirely in black, he blended into the night. When Gao Lan sped up, he accelerated; when she slowed down, he decelerated, always maintaining that one-kilometer gap.

Back when he had clashed with Gao Lan, he had already sensed her internal energy. Especially when she used that technique—switching guns with speed that left afterimages—the sensation of her internal energy clashing with his had been even stronger.

But what puzzled Yan Tian was that since Gao Lan possessed the title of the "Fastest Hands in Asia" and such a profound store of internal energy, why did she use guns instead of fighting him openly with martial arts?

Could it be that in modern society, martial arts were truly useless and destined to be completely replaced by firearms?

If even martial artists themselves didn't trust their own skills, who else would?

Looking at the three artificial gods—Gongsun Jing, Xia Tianling, and Sun Shangxiang—based on his experience fighting Gongsun Jing, they possessed immense power but lacked the skill to truly apply it. If they were willing to learn martial arts, even the most common performative styles, their combat effectiveness would leap to a much higher level.

Unfortunately, it seemed they only trusted in their own power and had no faith in martial arts.

Yan Tian sighed inwardly. Perhaps he was the only one left in the world who truly believed in his own kung fu. After all, the skills he practiced were those left behind by his Yan family ancestors.