Chapter 81: Head‑On【Seeking Subscriptions】

The two people lying on the ground had their eyes wide open; even before death, they didn't know who had killed them.

Jiang Cheng crouched down and felt inside the two people's clothing pockets.

He actually got a little something.

A key, a spring knife, two lighters, two packs of cigarettes, and four or five hundred in loose change.

Jiang Cheng took only the loose change; the cigarettes and the knife would take up space and hinder movement later, so he left them for possible future use, though they might also expose him.

After doing that, he hid again beside the courtyard gate.

Because those two had just come out and pushed open the door, he could peek out a little and see the scene inside.

The courtyard had some light, not very bright; beside it were the vendors' carts, and in the middle near the gate, a cleared area held a table.

Over a dozen people surrounded the table—some drinking, some eating, and some who had drunk too much were slumped over the table vomiting.

In four simple words, it was pandemonium.

"Wait a bit longer."

Jiang Cheng thought to himself.

Two companions had gone out to relieve themselves; if they took too long not to return, someone would surely come looking for them.

The more loners we can take out now, the easier a one-on-one showdown will be later.

Moreover, it would be better if these people drank a little more—ideally each to the point of insensibility.

The dishes on the table had long been eaten, and the wine was poured cup after cup.

After ten or twenty minutes had passed, someone finally remembered the two who had gone outside to relieve themselves.

"Hey, where are Xiao Gao and the other guy?"

"They probably went out to take a leak; those two have bad kidneys—they can't handle even this little drink."

"Really? But they've been out too long—hasn't it been half an hour?" the questioner said, frowning.

You could tell he could hold his liquor; though his face was flushed, his speech was sharp.

"Could it be that after relieving themselves they just lay down on the ground and fell asleep?"

"Hahaha."

Laughter immediately erupted around the table.

"Huazi, take two people and check; if they're really asleep, bring them back." Jiang Xiong looked toward Fan Hua beside him.

Those few were the hosts; they hadn't drunk much and were basically sober.

"Okay, Brother Xiong."

Fan Hua glanced at the two beside him, lifted his chin, and the two followed him toward the gate.

"Three people is a bit many."

Jiang Cheng hastily shrank back.

If he still wanted to deal with them as before—hiding in the dark for a sneak attack—the difficulty would be considerable.

Moreover, the wet patch where those two had relieved themselves was nearby; if someone came over and found nobody there, even a fool would know something had happened.

"Since a sneak attack won't work, then we'll go head‑on."

Jiang Cheng pressed himself against the wall, held his breath, and watched the shadow on the ground grow closer.

Finally, someone stepped out of the courtyard gate and instinctively looked toward where Jiang Cheng was.

In an instant, an iron staff, moving so fast it left only an afterimage, smashed down heavily onto his forehead!

"Bang!"

With a loud bang accompanied by the sound of breaking bone, Fan Hua fell straight to the ground, blood from his head quickly spreading out.

The two lackeys behind him watched wide‑eyed, not yet grasping what had happened, before following the same fate.

In the blink of an eye, the three became corpses on the ground.

Yet it was unrealistic to expect this commotion not to alert those inside.

"Who!"

A furious shout rang out, and about half of the eight or nine people around the table jumped to their feet.

Shocked and angry, they stared at the scene.

Without a word, Jiang Cheng grabbed the blood‑stained iron staff and rushed toward the crowd. "You've got guts!"

Seeing this, Wei Bao flew into a rage: "Kill him!"

Even if he were stupid, he knew the two who had gone out to relieve themselves had already met foul play.

If those who had gone out earlier weren't Jiang Xiong's men but his, then it would mean five brothers had just been killed by the enemy.

"Kill him!"

"You bastard, you're asking for death!"

"All together!"

Suddenly six or seven people charged at Jiang Cheng.

Some held wine bottles, some wielded watermelon knives, and others simply picked up stools.

First, they'd all been drinking, and as the saying goes, liquor bolsters cowardice; second, even sober, with their numbers they couldn't possibly lose to a petty villain who only lurks in the shadows for sneak attacks? Jiang Xiong stared, bewildered—what was going on? Soon, a man brandishing a watermelon knife lunged at Jiang Cheng, shouting, raised the blade high, and chopped down at him.

"Clang!"

A clear ringing sound.

Jiang Cheng neither dodged nor retreated; with his left hand he knocked the opponent's knife away with the staff, then twisted his right wrist, doubling the staff's power, and struck heavily against the opponent's left temple.

"Thud!"

A muffled thud.

The man fell with a thump, knelt, then his upper body hit the ground, his torso twitching slightly.

"Kill!"

Two more people rushed forward: one brandished a wine bottle and smashed it toward Jiang Cheng's head, the other wielded a Spring Knife and thrust it at Jiang Cheng's chest.

Jiang Cheng used his Double Staff to Sweep, striking the two heads first; the two let out a wail, dropped their weapons, and as they tried to rub their injuries, Jiang Cheng's several blows hit their heads again, and they fell over, tilting sideways.

In the blink of an eye, three people fell.

The few people behind suddenly sobered up, stared wide‑eyed, unsure whether to advance or retreat.

But Jiang Cheng gave them no time to think; he sprinted forward, and with a single strike he felled those who froze, parried those who attacked with another strike, then felled another—clean and decisive.

In a few blinks, only Wei Bao, Jiang Xiong, and a junior were left; the guy looked familiar, probably someone from Jiang Xiong's side, which is why he hadn't dared to attack earlier.

"No, no, don't kill me."

Wei Bao swallowed hard, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

"I… I have money, all in this bag; take it and let me go."

He pulled a black briefcase from beside him, placed it on the table, his eyes filled with terror.

A master of this caliber, if placed in his own gang, would be at a king‑level, but members of one's own gang have no reason to attack their own, so this person could only be from the Iron Fist Gang, knowing he had paid the management fee today and came to collect.

"I… I also have money, in the house; I can go get it, all, all for you." Jiang Xiong was half‑frozen with fear, his legs trembling nonstop.

He was used to bullying ordinary people; when had he ever faced such a grand scene?

Inside, he kept wailing in distress; the master before him was most likely targeting Wei Bao beside him. He had foolishly invited him to dinner today, and now he was implicated—where could he reason with that?

Jiang Cheng glanced at the briefcase on the table.

It was indeed the one he had seen this morning.

"Let me go, and it's all yours."

Wei Bao spoke while scanning the surroundings for an escape route.

Jiang Cheng said nothing, merely edging closer.

"No, no, no, don't come closer!"

Wei Bao, like a startled bird, shouted, "I know who you are! I'm not like those others; if you kill me, it will spark a war between the two gangs, and the Iron Fist Gang will also pay the price. Aren't you just after the money? I'll give you, I…"

His words abruptly cut off.

Wei Bao sprang to his feet, grabbed an empty wine bottle, hurled it at Jiang Cheng, and simultaneously turned to run toward the house.

Running toward the courtyard gate was tantamount to courting death.

Only by dashing into the house, locking the door, and barricading it could he survive the night! He thought of this, and Jiang Xiong thought the same, rising almost simultaneously and sprinting toward the main gate.

Only that junior sat there dumbfounded, mouth agape, a blank stare.

(End of chapter)