Chapter 18: Murderous Intent

Suddenly, three people appeared ahead, blocking the way.

Jiang Cheng merely glanced at them twice before recalling that these three, like the two from a few days ago, were regulars who used to rob his previous self.

Sure enough, before he could speak, the leading man, who looked to be in his early thirties, said: "Kid, same old rule—one hundred each, and I'll let you go."

The two behind him appeared to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, and they too gave Jiang Cheng a false smile as one of them said: "Don't think it's much; by my count, we haven't come after you in six or seven days—three hundred bucks, you surely can't come up with that?"

Compared to a few days ago, Jiang Cheng was also much calmer.

He spoke slowly: "Gentlemen, I came down with a high fever a few days ago and spent all my money on medical bills; not only that, I also owe quite a bit."

All three let out a cold laugh.

They've heard this excuse so often their ears are practically calloused.

Moreover, Jiang Cheng was pushing a tricycle loaded with goods; at first glance it looked like charcoal, but they knew the barrel could also hold things.

"Fine."

The leading middle-aged man said: "No money, then leave the stuff on the cart."

"'Exactly—either pay up or hand over the goods; you pick.'"

Jiang Cheng let out a light sigh: "So you're saying there's nothing to discuss?"

???

The three exchanged a glance.

They felt something was a bit off.

In the past, whenever they caught this kid, he would whimper and cry like a woman.

Today he seems a lot tougher? "Fine, kid, haven't seen you in days—did your wings get hard?"

A man at the back coldly drew a spring knife, pointed the blade at Jiang Cheng, and said: "Do I need to slash a few cuts on you before you behave?"

Jiang Cheng hadn't finished speaking when he silently reached behind him and drew out a short staff.

Then he locked eyes with the three.

He wasn't a belligerent person; he just didn't want to be bullied.

If the three before him chose to leave, he could pretend nothing had happened—although such an outcome was less likely than the Jiao Tribe abandoning this planet.

The three were stunned.

Instantly, each of them burned with rage.

A mere roasted sweet potato vendor dares to brandish a weapon at them? Where does he get the nerve!

"Big brother, it looks like today we have to give this kid a little color, or else he'll stop taking us seriously in the future," said the man who first drew his knife, licking his lips.

As a street thug, fighting is nothing out of the ordinary; indeed, a few years ago he himself had been stabbed with a knife.

This kid thinks brandishing a stick will scare them off—he's overthinking it.

The middle-aged man nodded and spat out two words: "Get him!"

The two behind him, one on the left and one on the right, lunged at Jiang Cheng, gripping daggers tightly, their eyes fixed on his chest.

Stabbing with a knife can easily kill if it hits a vital spot, but slashing rarely kills unless it strikes the neck or another vital area.

The two intended to give Jiang Cheng a lesson, not to take his life, after all he was their cash cow.

Jiang Cheng first stepped back two paces, widening the distance from the three opposite him, his gaze landing on the man on the left.

This guy charged the fastest, half a step ahead of his companions.

In the blink of an eye, he took a sidestep, darting to the left man's flank, closing the distance to him while widening it from the other.

"Whoosh!"

Accompanied by a tearing-through-air sound.

He brought down the short staff in his hand, chopping hard at the man's knife-wielding right hand.

"!"

The man jumped in shock and instinctively raised his left forearm to block.

Unfortunately, he was still half a beat slow; the fore part of the staff struck his right hand hard.

"'Ah!' a pained cry rang out."

The man winced from the pain, just loosening his grip on the dagger when—"thud"—the short staff swung up from below and smashed heavily into his face.

The powerful impact sent him rearing back, landing hard on his butt on the ground.

"Courting death!"

At that moment, the second man rushed over, seeing his companion's fate; anger rose from his heart, courage turned to boldness, and he thrust a knife straight at Jiang Cheng's chest.

Jiang Cheng had anticipated this; he took a backward leap, creating distance.

The man's attack missed, his body still leaning forward.

Jiang Cheng's eyes blazed with fury.

His brain flooded with hot blood, he gripped the short staff tightly with his right hand and unleashed a twelve-strike combo onto the man.

"Bang bang bang bang!"

A series of heavy, dull impact sounds, occasionally accompanied by the crisp crack of breaking bones.

When the combo ended, the knife-wielding man clutched his chest, lay on the ground, and let out hysterical wails.

He felt that his ribs were almost completely shattered.

Copious blood seeped through his clothing, a horrifying sight.

"Huff, huff..."

Jiang Cheng came to his senses, panting heavily.

Upon realizing that this man truly intended to kill him, he was almost overtaken by rage, and a murderous intent arose.

Fortunately, he still retained a sliver of reason; the twelve strikes were all aimed at the man's chest—had they been to the head, the man before him would already be a corpse.

A few steps away, the middle‑aged man saw the scene and was already terrified into a stupor.

To be honest, he didn't even see how Jiang Cheng did it.

It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye; the two companions fell to the ground.

Immediately, he sensed Jiang Cheng's murderous gaze.

"Run!"

The thought sprang to mind, and he turned and fled.

Neither of the two could match this guy; if he went up alone, he'd just be handing over his head.

Especially Xiao Jie, who was beaten so badly that even watching made him feel pain.

Jiang Cheng saw this, hesitated briefly, and still didn't give chase.

First, his vehicle was still here, and it still held a lot of important supplies.

Second, the surrounding terrain was complex; setting aside whether he could catch up, if he did manage, the opponent might suddenly turn and strike him with a blade. His mind could react, but his body might not; conversely, if he kept guarding against that, he might never catch up.

"The primary task is to protect one's own belongings, not to seek revenge."

Jiang Cheng turned around and only then realized that the first man he had struck in the face and knocked down had now regained consciousness and was about to get up and leave.

The latter's gaze, of course, remained fixed on Jiang Cheng; upon seeing him, he immediately went "thud" and knelt on the ground, shouting continuously, "Lord, spare me! Lord, spare me!"

"Weren't you rather arrogant before? You said you'd show me a bit of color."

Jiang Cheng approached, carrying a Short Staff, and asked with a half‑smile, half‑serious tone.

"To be honest, I actually prefer the way you were before—wild and untamed."

The man froze, then, terrified, he crawled on the ground, his voice trembling with sobs, "Lord, I know my mistake, I truly know my mistake. Please, spare me this time. I promise that wherever you are, Lord, I will walk around it, not daring to come within a step. I swear."

He didn't know why, just a few days ago, Jiang Cheng could be grabbed by the wrist, yet now he had become so formidable that anyone who met him was instantly knocked down.

It didn't matter if he couldn't figure it out; in his mind, Jiang Cheng was now like the Wild Wolf Gang or the martial‑arts school disciples—a person he could never provoke again.

"If apologies worked, there wouldn't be so much hatred in this world."

Jiang Cheng shook his head, "You stole so much money from me in the past; perhaps it's time to spit some of it back out, right?"

(End of chapter)