The Man Who Would Not Fall [Part-2]
After the two punches landed, Julian D'Aurelius still didn't move.
Not even a single step.
The night wind drifted across the empty road outside The Flavor Factory, carrying dust and the faint scent of burned rubber from the earlier braking. Broken glass still glittered near the Bentley.
But Julian—
Stood exactly where he had been.
Like a pillar rooted into the earth.
This time, the hook-nosed assassin was also completely dumbfounded.
He slowly pulled his fist back, staring at Julian as if looking at something impossible.
They had just used a combined attack technique.
Two peak Iron Realm Old Martial Arts practitioners, striking simultaneously.
Even a Silver Realm expert would at least stagger under that impact.
Yet—
Julian's body hadn't even trembled.
The four assassins looked at each other briefly.
Something felt very wrong.
Seeing the two men staring blankly at him, Julian calmly took a deep breath.
Then—
Smack.
Smack.
