Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1122 - 549:

"Brother Hu, you’re really out of the loop. This is the legendary Shrinking Turtle Divine Skill."

"I guess the person practicing this must be too ugly, afraid to scare the flowers and grass, so he can only hide in the air and doesn’t dare to show himself."

"I’ve also heard there’s a loser in the Bloodthorn Mercenary Corps, code name ’Black Mamba’. I bet it’s the same guy we’ve been hearing just now."

"Black Mamba?"

Fatty Hu scratched his bald head, feigning confusion:

"Are you sure that’s the right name? I feel like ’Black Jiba’ sounds more impressive."

Saying so, he raised his chin and shouted towards the source of the voice:

"Hey, Black Jiba, if you want to cut Grandpa’s tongue, why don’t you show yourself? Or are you afraid Grandpa will sit on you and squish you to death?"

"You’re courting death!"

The air in the corner suddenly rippled with a transparent wave, filled with lethal intent.

Apparently, Black Mamba was so angered by this banter he was about to forcefully act.

"Enough!"

The Masked Guest coldly interrupted the pointless verbal sparring.

He could see that although these guys were joking, their positions were very precise.

The burly bald man was at the front, the young man with the baseball cap hovered on the side.

The two protected the jacketed man with the extraordinary perception ability in the middle.

As for the sniper, he occupied the best shooting position on the opposite slope.

This could definitely be called a well-coordinated mutant combat team.

"Since this fight can’t be avoided, let’s not waste words."

The Masked Guest snorted coldly, slowly raised his right hand, and beckoned with his finger:

"You want to rescue someone? Sure, let your skills decide."

As he spoke, it seemed as though an invisible mental force was gathering.

The sound of the wind became heavy around them, and the pressure suddenly dropped.

The Illuminati members were serious, their bodies tensed.

The members of the Bloodthorn Mercenary Corps also took advantageous positions, ready for action.

Murderous intent silently clashed between the two groups, ready to explode at any moment.

"Then let’s go, let me see how much weight this so-called top mercenary corps carries!"

Fatty Hu grinned, clasping his hands together, fingers cracking loudly.

Just as he was about to move, he caught sight of something unusual outside the east railing of the roof terrace from the corner of his eye.

A familiar black shadow peeked its head out like a ghost, then quickly disappeared into the night sky.

Fatty Hu’s eyes darted, immediately understanding the situation.

He suddenly turned his head, pointing at the muscular beast guarding the iron cage, shouting:

"Hey, Big Bear! You hit my bones so hard they creaked. Tonight, I’m gonna dismantle you into pieces!"

"Come on, let’s have a good fight and see who’s stronger tonight!"

With that, he took big strides, charging towards Big Bear.

"Watch the left! Three o’clock direction!"

Old Chen suddenly let out in a low voice, issuing a rapid warning.

Before the words finished, the air half a meter to Fatty Hu’s left abruptly twisted, creating an almost invisible wave.

Immediately afterward, a grim, sallow face faintly emerged.

"Die!"

Accompanied by a venomous hiss, Black Mamba held a dagger in reverse grip, the wind howling sorrowfully as it thrust towards Fatty Hu’s back like the tongue of a venomous snake.

This strike was as swift as lightning, impossible to guard against, precisely his specialty move — invisible backstabbing.

Watching as the blade was about to slash through Fatty Hu’s thick neck, cutting open his carotid artery.

"Zhing—"

A harsh metallic clashing sound suddenly rang out.

In the dark, a burst of dazzling sparks erupted.

Another shimmering Butterfly Knife cut through the air, precisely blocking Black Mamba’s deadly strike.

"Hey, Black Jiba, your opponent is me!"

Fei Ying appeared beside Fatty Hu at some point, blocking the dagger with one hand, looking at him with a teasing grin.