First-Year Internship—And You Went to Site 749 to Contain Monsters?!
Chapter 23: Your Great Vajra Palm Is Nothing Special

Lu Ding nodded and turned his gaze toward the approaching convoy of black vehicles.

From inside, someone barked orders over a radio.

“Damn it! If even the 749 Bureau guys aren’t scared, what the hell are we afraid of?! If the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up! Get in there and take back the goods!!”

At the command, car doors swung open.

Dozens of Tianli Cult members, all masked, leaped onto the rooftops of the vehicles.

The convoy scattered, forming a pincer maneuver around Wen Yuquan and Yin Feng’s car, slowly advancing forward.

Yin Feng spun his Meteor Hammer and flipped onto the roof.

“Heh, round two? Good—I wasn’t done having fun yet. Come on!!”

Wen Yuquan also drew his Dual Blades.

Seeing Lu Ding standing beside him, empty-handed, he asked, “You got a weapon?”

Lu Ding calmly floated upward, hovering above the car.

He stretched out a hand and spread his fingers.

Instantly, countless slashes erupted in all directions.

The sound of flesh being torn apart filled the air.

Blood sprayed, turning into a crimson rain, dyeing the night sky.

“I don’t need a weapon.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it shook everyone present to their core.

So this was his true combat strength.

Ever since acquiring Oneness with Formlessness, Lu Ding had gained the ability to manually activate Oneness with Heaven and Man. And once he turned it on—he never turned it off.

Even though moving and fighting would lower its efficiency, it was still far more effective than a typical Cultivator of Qi dedicating themselves to training.

For Lu Ding, his combat power increased every second.

Walking, fighting, even just living—all of it was cultivation.

His one strike left Wen Yuquan and Yin Feng shaken—

And it sent a wave of terror through the Tianli Cult forces.

One move.

Multiple casualties.

Not even complete bodies left.

How were they supposed to fight this?!

Fear before battle even started—that was the ultimate mistake.

Sensing the sinking morale, the Tianli Cult commander grew impatient.

“You think my men are just fodder for you to cut down?”

A cold, sinister voice spoke from behind a serpent mask.

Lu Ding turned to look at him.

“If you’re not convinced—come fight me yourself.”

“Enough of your crap!!”

Yin Feng wasn’t in the mood for theatrics. He swung his Meteor Hammer in a wide arc, the force of the movement sending a gust of wind rippling outward.

With a hawk-like flip, he launched the hammer directly at the masked man.

The man raised a hand—

It was a thick, calloused palm, tougher than normal flesh.

With an almost casual grip, he caught the Meteor Hammer mid-air.

Just like that.

A stark contrast in power.

He sneered.

“Twenty-Four Style Meteor Hammer? That’s all?”

“You talk too much, brat. Come here!!”

With a sharp tug, an immense force yanked Yin Feng forward.

At the same time, the man channeled his Qi, raising his other palm—

Golden light flickered.

He struck out with a devastating palm attack.

Just as it was about to land—

Lu Ding blurred.

In an instant, he sidestepped.

“Then take one of mine and see how it feels.”

With both palms extended, a titanic force exploded forward.

The masked man’s eyes flickered—he no longer dared to hold back.

He immediately switched to both hands and pushed forward with his own palms.

“Then try my Great Vajra Palm!!”

BOOM!!

Their palms clashed, triggering a deafening shockwave.

The car beneath the masked man crumpled under the force, sending the vehicle veering out of control.

Both of them used the rebound to leap onto a different surface.

“Great Vajra Palm!”

Wen Yuquan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Tianli Cult’s Yuan Baifeng!”

The masked man—now identified—trembled as he looked at his hands.

For the first time, fear crept into his heart.

His physical strength was terrifying.

He had trained in Great Vajra Palm, one of Buddhism’s most secret martial arts techniques.

With each palm strike, he could unleash ten thousand pounds of force.

And his cultivation was at Linghai Realm.

When he had just clashed with Lu Ding, he had felt it—Lu Ding’s level was roughly Zhaoxuan Realm.

But how could someone at Zhaoxuan have a stronger body than him?!

He had trained in Great Vajra Palm for years.

And Lu Ding—just a kid—had overpowered him in a single move?!

It didn’t make sense!

Seeing that his identity had been revealed, Yuan Baifeng discarded his mask.

His hands swept through the air, gathering Qi.

“Kid, I acknowledge your strength. Physically, you’re stronger than me. But in terms of cultivation realm, I’m ahead. Taking that palm strike from me wasn’t easy, was it?”

Lu Ding flicked his wrist.

“Yeah, it wasn’t comfortable. Made my hand red.”

Yuan Baifeng stiffened.

Red?

Why didn’t I break your fing hand instead?!

He clenched his fists, his pride wounded.

“Listen, kid. Hand over the goods, and we’ll let this go. Otherwise—”

“Enough.”

Lu Ding cut him off.

He was sick of hearing threats.

If you’ve got the guts, take it yourself. If you don’t, then shut the f up.

If words could solve everything, 749 Bureau wouldn’t need to exist. They could just replace everyone with negotiators.

He activated Wind-Fixing Art to its fullest.

His figure blurred—phantom-like—appearing and vanishing at will.

A terrifying slash ripped through the air.

Yuan Baifeng’s aura surged, his palms glowing gold. He didn’t dodge—he counterattacked.

With his higher cultivation level, his years of experience—

Surely, he could withstand it.

He had confidence.

Until—

The moment his hand made contact with Lu Ding’s attack—

Agonizing pain.

A searing cut tore through flesh.

Half of his palm was sliced off.

His eyes widened in horror.

And then—he saw Lu Ding, right in front of him, smirking.

Mocking him.

Talking about age and cultivation differences?

What a joke.

All of Lu Ding’s techniques, apart from Flying Bear Slaughtering Art, were max-level from the system.

Mastering techniques to perfection wasn’t just a matter of time and effort—it was something few could achieve.

Yuan Baifeng had a chance to win.

But he had let his pride get in the way—

And now, his arrogance had cost him half his power.

His Great Vajra Palm was crippled.

And then—

“Let’s see how you handle my palm strike!!”

Lu Ding flashed forward with inhuman speed.

A giant bear—its wings spread wide—flickered behind him, mirroring his movements.

Even the wind itself recoiled.

An overwhelming visual impact.

Yuan Baifeng couldn’t dodge.

If he tried, he’d only expose his defenses.

With no choice left, he forced himself to block.

The moment their palms clashed—

His hands—shattered.

Flesh and bone burst apart, spikes of his own shattered bones stabbing into his shoulders.

Lu Ding’s palm punched through his chest, piercing him from front to back.

Blood mist sprayed into the air.

Point-force destruction.

All the energy tunneled straight through him.

Yuan Baifeng coughed up blood, desperately trying to strike back—

But his final attack landed without a sound.

It was like hitting a mountain.

His strength vanished.

And then—

Lu Ding spoke the words that shattered him completely.

“Strength isn’t determined by age. Your Great Vajra Palm—”

“—is nothing special.”

“PFFT!!!”

Yuan Baifeng’s final shred of life slipped away.

His body hung limp in Lu Ding’s grip.