Chapter 21: Sneak Attack Failed, Villain Style

At sixteen, we joined the docks, becoming part of the Blue Wolf Gang.

At seventeen, I put on a short jacket, ran amok without fear, no longer had to scavenge trash, took revenge on several scavengers, and trampled them underfoot.

At eighteen, Tong Ge earned the second-in-command's favor through his ferocity and was taught a set of fist techniques; I envied him immensely.

I hoped Tong Ge would teach me, but Tong Ge refused, saying the gang had rules: to learn fist techniques, one must first achieve merit.

At twenty, Tong Ge's fist technique was excellent, his fists growing harder, his arms nearly as thick as my thighs.

At twenty-one, Tong Ge achieved merit again; the gang seized 798 Street, and from then on we did nothing—every merchant on this street had to pay protection fees to the gang.

Of course, the money went to the gang; Tong Ge, favored by the second-in-command, could take more, while I could only spend Tong Ge's money.

At twenty-two, from this year on, several Jiejiu Fangs were placed under Tong Ge's management; Tong Ge became even more imposing and gained two more lackeys.

At twenty-three, I finally saved enough money to learn leg techniques at a street martial arts hall; I practiced hard every day but made little progress—my bone quality was too poor. I began to drink and understood why people fight when drunk, because there really is a ball of fire in the heart that cannot be suppressed.

Tong Ge noticed my anxiety and advised me not to rush, to drink less, and that he would protect me for life.

At twenty-four, I decided to listen to Tong Ge, to drink less, and to stop practicing martial arts; following behind Tong Ge for life wasn't bad either.

At twenty-five, I followed Tong Ge every day, watched the Jiejiu Fangs for him, and drank with him at night—happy day after day.

At twenty-six, Tong Ge said he didn't want to manage only two Jiejiu Fangs for life; he wanted to rise in rank, and the second-in-command had entrusted him with a task.

He decided to do it.

I worried for Tong Ge and asked what the task was, but he told me nothing; I said I understood.

The night before last, after Tong Ge got me drunk, he slipped out; actually, I wasn't asleep—I knew he had gone out.

The next day, I heard from the gang that someone had died at the hospital, and I immediately realized Tong Ge had done it.

Tong Ge had killed someone; killing one or two people meant nothing—the problem was that the woman had been sent to the hospital by the Patrol Bureau, and the Patrol Bureau would certainly investigate.

I was both shocked by Tong Ge's audacity and worried for him.

Tonight, Tong Ge and I drank a lot at the entrance of the Jiejiu Fang; Tong Ge happily patted my shoulder and said he would truly rise in rank this time.

I danced with joy, appearing even happier than Tong Ge, laughed and congratulated him, and we drank over ten cans of alcohol, our stomachs sloshing; I hiccupped, vomited by the roadside, and tears were choked out.

Was I truly happy?

I asked my own heart but couldn't fathom my own thoughts; I had a smile on my face and tears in the corners of my eyes.

After Tong Ge walked far ahead, I hurriedly wiped my mouth and caught up.

Tong Ge laughed heartily, mocking me for dirtying my shoes; I embarrassedly scratched my head, and we supported each other as we turned into the low buildings of Di Hu Qu.

The low buildings used to house a father and son; the man was a gambler, his wife ran off with someone, and the boy was elementary school age.

Later, Tong Ge set a trap for them; they owed usurious loans, mortgaged the house, had their livers and kidneys gouged out, were fed to dogs, and the boy was thrown out of the house to scavenge trash.

The house was on the second floor.

Tong Ge leaned drunkenly against the stair railing, and I felt for the key in my pocket.

The light tube in the hallway was broken, flickering on and off; I had to press my face to the keyhole, jab once, again, and once more, before finally shoving the key in.

As I turned the lock core, I subconsciously glanced at my feet.

Two overlapping shadows—mine and Tong Ge's.

The light flickered once, and suddenly a third shadow flashed out, right behind Tong Ge and me.

I froze for a moment; looking again in a daze, the suddenly appearing shadow solidified into reality.

I suddenly turned my head, and in the darkness a pair of cold eyes met mine.

Darkness fell before my eyes, time seemed to slow, and everything from the past flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern.

So,

was I going to die?

……

Zhang Tong, bleary-eyed, saw Ma Wei pitch forward, his head smashing the door open, his face hitting the ground heavily, motionless.

The alcohol instantly sobered him; he instinctively ducked and bent, feeling a chill brush his scalp, a large clump of hair with a piece of scalp falling with a patter onto the ground.

His bald scalp burned with pain; warm blood, as he dodged, flowed into his eye sockets, stinging so much he wanted to close his eyes.

How dare he close his eyes? Zhang Tong glared furiously, stepped his shoe sole on Ma Wei's back, executed a donkey roll into the living room, smashing the wooden chazhuo, and the wine bottles scattered on the ground shattered into glass shards.

Zhang Tong scrambled to his feet, reached behind his back, and found it covered in fresh blood and glass shards.

Zhang Tong gritted his teeth, tore off his shirt in one motion, and pulled a shard of glass out of the blood-stained flesh.

The tense muscles on his back relaxed a little; although some glass shards remained, they no longer affected his muscle strength much, but his entire back was a mess, oozing blood, painfully agonizing.

"Drunk, yet your reactions are still so fast? Or was my knife too slow?"

Feng Mu secretly regretted in his heart; his breathing, hidden behind the mask, was slightly hurried. He lacked too much combat experience; the movements of his sneak attack on the two men weren't connected smoothly enough, allowing the second man to dodge.

The sneak attack on Zheng Hang didn't count as a slaughter; that time the killing was too easy—at most it had let him see blood, bolster his courage to kill, and breed some malice.

Combat experience was better than nothing.

Adrenaline surged; the five fingers gripping the knife handle were too stiff, leaving fingerprints on the handle.

Feng Mu could only take a deep breath, imitating the villain's mannerisms from film and television, feigning a sinister laugh, while kicking Ma Wei on the ground aside and locking the door behind him with his backhand.

With just those few movements, he put on seven parts arrogance and shed five parts nervousness.

This showed that in certain situations, playing the villain indeed worked wonders—better to be darkened ten times over.

The room's lights were off; only the white glow from the fish tank's light strip spread out, two blue lizards clung to the wall, their round, bulging eyeballs spinning around.

Zhang Tong stared fixedly at Feng Mu raising his foot, locking and deadbolting the door, his heart gradually sinking to the bottom of a valley.

"Brother, which path are you from? Why not remove your mask and show yourself, so I can remember where I offended you, to have you come kill someone in the middle of the night?" Zhang Tong gritted his teeth, glancing at the anti-theft bars outside the window, secretly cursing that he hadn't removed this thing.

Feng Mu neither removed his mask nor replied, afraid of revealing his nervousness; he said nothing, his silence making Zhang Tong's hair stand on end.

Zhang Tong had gone to the hospital to kill someone just the day before yesterday; throughout, he hadn't made a sound, only mechanically wielding the scalpel, so he had firsthand understanding that those who don't talk during murder are hardened ruthless characters.

"Really no room for negotiation?"

Zhang Tong wiped the blood from his face, murderous aura showing in his eyes; before his words landed, his shoe sole scraped against the ground with a piercing friction, one step three meters, a bowl-sized fist covering Feng Mu's head.

……

Review auto-edited, swallowed 200 words, speechless

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End of Chapter