Chapter 128: Vying for the Front, Fake Jealousy

Although he had transmigrated into a little beggar, Bai Lang really had no experience of mooching off others—so this tragedy happened...... Basically, not long after he finished eating and went back, after urinating he would be hungry again. Bai Lang stuffed himself, then endured until the birthday song ended and he ate the cake; then they were going to go to a bar for fun, while Bai Lang decisively prepared to go back.

No wonder Yu Yu dumping him here makes sense——after going out, that kind of thing is extremely cliché. It's so cliché Bai Lang doesn't even want to watch. It's still a very boring flirtation; these guys and girls are all young, and the women led by the goddess are all quite above average in looks, so of course they got harassed by a bunch of drunk yellow-haired delinquents.

The other side also had men and women, but they looked like society people, totaling about ten or so——indeed their numbers are fewer than those attending the goddess's birthday banquet, but that sort of gangster vibe makes their arrogance far surpass that of the people here. "Beautiful lady...... let's go play together, we've got cards and a dragon."

Bai Lang completely didn't understand what they were saying, but it didn't stop him from enjoying the show. One could say it's because there was an Internal Force Martial Artist among them, the few men at the banquet all plucked up courage, wanting to show off their bravery in front of the other women, so they immediately started pushing and shouting at each other.

Bai Lang has lived two lives, yet he's never been to a bar or nightclub—who let him actually be a corporate-drone shut-in? With no money and no guts, naturally he can't go to such places. Because he's always heard that entering a nightclub costs four figures, and then playing around costs tens of thousands; his annual salary would cover only two nights.

After transmigrating he also never went to a brothel; he didn't even have time to practice, let alone go to a brothel—and besides, he's still young. In the previous worlds, either time was short or he was busy fleeing, making it impossible to do that. It's good he didn't go, otherwise he'd probably regret it now.

Bai Lang was thinking about this situation himself, and for a moment he didn't notice the situation developing—both sides had already come to blows. Who let everyone actually have drunk a bit, and there were still women around; just out of face they couldn't back down. Bai Lang stepped forward a pace; his tall build was quite intimidating.

He stepped in and had already reached the place where they were grappling; just extending his arm separated the two sides. "Speaking of which, it's true they've practiced since childhood—even drunk, their fighting isn't just wild swinging and slapping; it actually has a fair bit of offense and defense. Striking techniques, then joint locks—someone without qi sense or internal force reaching this level is already quite impressive." Bai Lang remarked that this world promoting martial arts, with everyone having something to practice, is indeed good.

Anyway, if one trains to the end and still can't produce internal force, their destructive power is limited; they can't break human limits. After Bai Lang easily separated those people, he also waved his hand, indicating they could scram. But he didn't expect that face-saving mattered more than heaven; the drunk yellow-haired delinquent opposite actually drew a knife.

With the knife in hand he thrust it out; Bai Lang casually slapped the man's arm, and instantly the arm bent inward with a crack, the arm whipping like a lash against the delinquent himself. The delinquent's alcohol turned completely into sweat spraying from his forehead and back; the intense pain sobered him up immediately...

That delinquent's arm suffered a clean complex fracture, and became like a rubber arm, held up only by muscles, so it whipped against himself like a lash. By this point, the opposing delinquent gang couldn't fail to realize that the tall, burly man before them was a martial artist.

They're just ordinary society people; facing a martial artist who has at least cultivated qi sense, they're naturally inferior—unless they're fighting for their lives, who'd want to tangle with a martial artist? The delinquent's wails came in fits and starts; Bai Lang curled his lip, preparing to leave, but after thinking he still said, "You guys go first, don't worry about this. I'll handle it."

This conveniently gave a reasonable excuse to slip away from the goddess Tian Li and her group of men and women; it seemed Tian Li still wanted to say she'd stay too, but Bai Lang extended a palm to block the front, "Your birthday, don't get dragged into this boring mess. I said I'll handle it." Having said that, he crossed his arms and watched the broken-armed, prone delinquent.

The police hadn't arrived yet, but instead another society person came—stepping down from a car on one side, equally drunk and shirtless, a bald-headed muscular guy, a bit short, about 1.7 meters. He's a more typical society person than the yellow-haired delinquents, tattooed with dragons and tigers, and looks like he's the boss of those yellow-haired punks.

This guy came over drunk, "What's up, Heipi?" The other yellow-haired delinquents didn't dare speak; the bald guy looked at him a moment, "Did someone hit him?" Bai Lang snorted a laugh, "Buddy, you've drunk too much. Speaking of which, the police are a bit slow—if I'd known, I'd have called 120 first."

This remark seemed to light the fuse; the bald guy's eyes popped out, his neck cocked, and he squared up against Bai Lang like a bull. The alcohol made him actually ignore his height difference with Bai Lang, and seemingly made him instantly forget the yellow-haired Heipi groaning on the ground—of course he also forgot what kind of person could have beaten Heipi's arm into that state. Naturally he also forgot what his lackey had just whispered in his ear—probably he hadn't heard it at all to begin with.

So they say a gentleman doesn't drink to claim virtue.

Bai Lang was even happier; such a bald guy would definitely end up in today's jokes, and he really patronizingly patted the bald head from above. "Yeah, so what if I hit him?" Bai Lang chuckled, half-bent, looking at the bald guy, "Pleasure..."

The bald head was already red from alcohol, and now the blood vessels popped out biubiu. The bald guy threw a punch straight at Bai Lang's face; his distance sense was actually pretty good, and the punch exploded with maximum force just as it reached Bai Lang's face.

Bai Lang once again marveled at how widespread martial arts are in this world, "Striking techniques are quite common, that's good." But after he straightened his body, the bald guy's distance sense went wrong, and his punch landed on Bai Lang's raised palm. Bai Lang's force rebounded from his palm, adding the bald guy's own momentum, directly sending him falling onto his butt.

Bai Lang had already, because this bald guy was joke-worthy, let loose completely, showing no mercy—just letting him fall on his butt. The bald guy indeed had drunk plenty; he immediately rushed back to the car, pulled out a forearm-length knife from inside, and charged over.

The nearby yellow-haired delinquents and the people who had just jumped out of the other side of the car were about to rush over to hug him, but at this moment the bald guy unexpectedly became agile, his body just twisting and making a feint, thus easily shaking off the grappling defenders like a winger, and charging toward Bai Lang.

"Indeed, what a beautiful feint!" Bai Lang's eyes also gleamed; the bald guy insisted on having it, and at that moment Bai Lang also saw a police car with 110 coming from the opposite side of the road...