Chapter 407: The Shadow of the Martial Arts League
Hanson, once a figure of pride and elegance, now lay sprawled on the ground, utterly humiliated. His pristine white suit, once an emblem of his nobility, was torn, his teeth scattered on the ground as he rolled helplessly in the air like a ragdoll.
The slap had been so powerful, both physically and mentally, that it shattered every defense he had built around himself.
His body lay twisted on the ground, and the stench of blood filled the air. His head was dazed, and his senses were muddled. He had a concussion, and it was clear: he was no longer the confident man who had walked in so arrogantly.
Thomson watched in shock, unable to comprehend the turn of events. Hanson, the powerful soul realm warrior, had been struck down like a helpless animal. His mind raced, recalling how he had once viewed Hanson as an invincible force. Yet now, this very man lay broken before John.
Thomson's two pupils dilated in disbelief, and he struggled to breathe. It was becoming clear to him—the three Kings hadn't just been defeated—they were destroyed by this same individual in a fraction of a second.
"Get out of here now. Are you waiting for me to kill you?"
Hanson, trembling, scrambled to his feet and fled, his composure shattered, unable to maintain the same dignified air he had upon arrival.
Thomson could only swallow hard, conflicted by the urge to see Hanson destroyed but knowing full well he had no right to voice such a wish.
John, a force to be reckoned with, had let Hanson live for a reason.