Chapter 24

The guy who drew his gun was also a veteran; Tai Guo's public security has always been average, and people in this line of work have plenty of chances to draw guns and fire, even using firearms frequently in daily life, so even though Bai Lang killed four people in the blink of an eye, the man who pulled his weapon hadn't even had time to panic before he drew his gun and roughly opened fire on Bai Lang. At that moment the distance was very short, so precise aiming wasn't needed—perhaps the man was just trying to hold Bai Lang back so he could escape.

In short, the man kept firing while retreating.

Bai Lang summoned the Internal Force of his Golden Bell Shield, and within three to five meters a handgun‑wielder simply couldn't be knocked back—space was limited, and there was no room for Bai Lang to dodge on a large scale. The key was that the time he spent killing those three gave the guy enough chance to fire; when Bai Lang lunged at him, the man discharged four shots, one missed, but the other three hit Bai Lang.

Two bullets struck Bai Lang's left forearm, which he had shielded forward, and one hit his shoulder. Bai Lang truly felt the power of the Golden Bell Shield—he couldn't immediately identify the model of the gun; it looked small and delicate, yet at this range the projectile hit him with a jolt and pain. The bullet broke his skin, pierced part of his muscle, and lodged about three centimeters deep in the tissue; of the two bullets that hit his arm, one struck bone and became firmly embedded in the bone.

The shot to his shoulder was the same: the projectile lodged in bone, couldn't penetrate further, and only a little blood seeped out, the wound squeezing the bullet in place. The pain spurred Bai Lang; a wounded tiger is even more lethal. The man didn't have time to fire a fifth shot, because Bai Lang, smelling of blood, lunged in front of him—not just the blood from his own wounds, but the bloodstains from killing the three people on the sofa.

This time Bai Lang's palm struck downward and forward; the technique even has a name in traditional martial arts, called the "Great Tablet Crushing Hand", a truly forceful method. And indeed, the result of that palm was that the man's entire upper body seemed to be smashed by a massive stone tablet, shattering instantly… At that moment Bai Lang halted, exhaled slowly, and his muscles trembled under the flow of Internal Force, squeezing the lodged bullet free so it fell to the ground.

His steps stopped before the last surviving victim curled up in a ball; Bai Lang looked at the man with a half‑smile, "I recognize you, but I didn't expect you to be the one in charge this time." Bai Lang had indeed seen this person before, running around the senior members of the syndicate, sometimes treating professional fighters like himself with a condescending, commanding tone. Now the man huddled before Bai Lang, trembling, muttering under his breath.

The accent was heavy; Bai Lang could barely understand, but it was just various pleas for mercy, and Bai Lang said little. With a gust of rancid wind, his right hand seized and snapped the man's cervical vertebra, cutting the nerves, killing him instantly. "There wasn't much time to begin with; as soon as I smashed the window, sounds came out, plus the gunfire. Even if Tai Guo's security is that bad and the police that corrupt, they'd probably arrive in about twenty minutes. It's time to leave."

Bai Lang hesitated a moment over those handguns, "Should I take a gun with me?" As for his clothes, he could still change them, since they were stained with blood. In the end Bai Lang washed his hands, changed into clean clothes, and slipped the small handgun he finally recognized into his bag. "Pretty stylish, it's a Walther PPK. No wonder the bullet power is limited…" The gun was small and delicate, and Bai Lang also took most of the ammunition he had found.

Bai Lang exited through the room's door—none of the neighboring residents dared stick their heads out, so Bai Lang easily went downstairs and left through the front door, and the police still hadn't arrived. Should he continue killing those who ordered the hunt? Bai Lang thought he'd consider that later.

What he didn't know was that the handgun's power was far greater than he imagined; despite its small, delicate appearance, it fired 7.65 mm pistol rounds, which have a very strong stopping effect on unarmored targets. "Palm Thunder" is the nickname of this gun. The fact that he could make the projectile lodge shows the Golden Bell Shield's power is already close to that of a bulletproof vest; Bai Lang's martial skill is indeed the best in this world.

Six people died, which is a major case even in Tai Guo, yet they couldn't catch Bai Lang; they still couldn't even figure out what Bai Lang looks like—no warrant could be issued. Someone like Bai Lang, after using Lightness Skill, can travel a hundred li in a single night, and Tai Guo's relatively low social surveillance lets him freely hop on public transport to flee. On the morning of the third day, Bai Lang had already reached Bangkok—the largest city in Tai Guo. "I should be able to find a way to smuggle across here—but where to go?"

"Actually, I don't need to smuggle; I can also cultivate martial arts here— as for money, I can just trouble those who run illegal businesses." Bai Lang thought, he liked the atmosphere here; overall Tai Guo felt better to him than Ri Ben.

Having cultivated his martial art to this level, further progress in this world is already hard to achieve; the next stage of practice is merely to continuously hone his fist techniques, striving to innovate under the current circumstances, at least pushing his proficiency to its limit, turning the Golden Bell Shield's luck method into instinct, and integrating the San Shi Er Lu Chang Quan into everyday walking, sitting, and lying, aiming to cultivate martial arts subtly in daily life.

Because beyond that, Bai Lang couldn't think of anything else to do—he could of course indulge in food, drink, and leisure in this world, squandering his future, which would make returning impossible; perhaps he wouldn't encounter a master who would casually take his life? In any case, if a day came when he felt he hadn't given his utmost effort, he wouldn't be content even in death. Moreover, Bai Lang has no desire to die at all.

Then he'll hide in Tai Guo; by Southeast Asian standards, he's as steady as a mountain. "That gambling syndicate probably won't come after me, unless they want to die— besides, it's not that I underestimate them; it's almost impossible for them to find me." The police here have only that much ability, let alone the street brothers. So Bai Lang settled in Bangkok; besides training, he also wanders the temples. "Has the body stopped growing after completing the first level of the Golden Bell Shield?" Having cultivated to this degree, Bai Lang's grasp of the subtle aspects of his body has made great strides.

This situation, Bai Lang thought, seemed quite normal—perhaps that voice never expected its holder to die of old age after only a few attempts while searching for something…