Chapter 169: Extreme Cruelty

"You damn mad dog!" Shen Qingshan suddenly hysterical shouted, "Lin Yu's bastard-raised beast! You bunch of dog scum!"

Ma San's originally lazy gaze instantly turned cold. He slowly stood up, moved his neck slightly, making a "crack-crack" sound.

"Come," Ma San twisted his body, as if dancing a strange dance, "hold down this thing's right hand."

Two Axe Head Gang members immediately stepped forward, pressing Shen Qingshan's right hand to the ground, palm up. Shen Qingshan struggled, but before these elites, his resistance was like child's play.

"Do you know?" Ma San said slowly, the Opening Mountain Axe in his hand flashing cold light in the lamplight, "I hate it most when people call me a dog."

"Ah!"

A piercing scream echoed through the hall. Ma San raised his axe and brought it down—Shen Qingshan's right pinky flew off, blood spurting out.

"Still dare to curse?" Ma San asked, tilting his head, a sickly smile on his face.

"You... you beast!" Shen Qingshan, pale with pain, still shouted curses.

"Smack!" Another axe blow.

This time it was the ring finger. Blood spattered onto Ma San's suit, but he didn't care; instead, he seemed to be admiring a work of art.

"Go on," Ma San said with a grin, "you're pretty good at cursing, aren't you?"

Shen Qingshan's wife and children trembled with fear, but no one dared to speak. The Axe Head Gang members watched expressionlessly, as if this were just an ordinary performance.

"You......" Shen Qingshan could no longer speak a complete sentence, cold sweat and blood soaking his clothes.

"Not cursing anymore?" Ma San shook his head, "That won't do. You were cursing so fiercely just now—how could you just stop?"

"Swish!" The middle finger also left the palm.

Shen Qingshan was in so much pain he was about to faint, but Ma San grabbed his hair: "Don't pass out! We haven't had enough fun yet! You're pretty good at cursing—keep going!"

The hall echoed with Shen Qingshan's screams. Ma San continued like this, cutting off finger after finger slowly, his face always bearing that sickly smile. This is the boss of the Axe Head Gang, one of Lin Yu's most capable enforcers.

"A Li," Ma San shook the blood off the Opening Mountain Axe, "bring that iron hammer."

A gang member immediately handed over a great iron hammer weighing about ten or so catties. Ma San hefted it, nodding in satisfaction.

"Boss Shen," Ma San squatted down and said amiably, "you see, we handled the right hand with an axe, which is too crude. For the left hand, we need a more refined method."

Shen Qingshan was in so much pain he could not speak, only able to emit indistinct sobs. His right hand was a bloody mess, all five fingers gone.

"Hold down his left hand," Ma San said, standing up and flexing his wrist, "spread the palm flat, fingers apart."

The gang members held down Shen Qingshan's left arm, pressing his palm firmly to the ground. Ma San raised the iron hammer, aiming carefully like a serious craftsman.

"Bang!"

The first hammer strike hit the pinky's joint. The sound of bone shattering was crisp enough to send chills down one's spine. Shen Qingshan's screams changed pitch, but Ma San seemed to be enjoying the lovely music.

"Look," Ma San said with a grin, "this is so delicate. Bit by bit we smash the bones—much more interesting than just chopping them off."

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The hammer fell repeatedly, breaking Shen Qingshan's fingers joint by joint. Ma San's movements were extremely rhythmic, as if he were playing a symphony. Each strike landed precisely on a joint, shattering the bone to pieces.

"No... don't......" Shen Qingshan was in so much pain he was about to lose consciousness.

"Wake up!" Ma San slapped his face, "This is just the beginning! You need to feel every blow properly. This is a performance I prepared especially for you!"

The hammer kept falling. Shen Qingshan's left hand gradually turned into a bloody, muddy pulp. But Ma San's expression grew ever more excited, his face flushed with a sickly hue, as if he were truly enjoying an artistic performance.

"Look," Ma San held up the blood‑stained iron hammer, "this is what art really is! Far superior to the tricks of your foreign masters!"

Shen Qingshan's wife and children had already fainted from fright. But the Axe Head Gang members remained expressionless, as if they were long accustomed to the boss's crazy methods.

Shen Qingshan passed out from the pain. Ma San grinned: "Xiao Liu, you little brat, you piss a lot, don't you? Go wake this bastard up with your urine!"

A gang member chuckled, stepped forward, undid his pants, and a stream of foul‑smelling urine drenched Shen Qingshan's face, rousing him from unconsciousness.

"Cough... cough cough..." Shen Qingshan coughed violently, his face full of humiliation and fear.

"Boss Shen," Ma San squatted before him, "I, Ma San, am lowly—you can curse me all you like. But you cursed my elder brother......" His eyes suddenly turned vicious, "I'm going to wipe out your whole family!"

Shen Qingshan trembled all over, having completely lost his earlier arrogance. Both his hands were bloody pulps, the pain almost numbing him.

"A Li," Ma San suddenly said, "bring those tweezers."

A gang member handed over a pair of medical tweezers, glinting coldly in the lamplight. Ma San played with them, a sickly smile on his face.

"Boss Shen, you say," Ma San leaned close to Shen Qingshan's face, "you've surely never experienced what it feels like to have your eyeball ripped out right before your eyes, have you?"

"No... don't......" Shen Qingshan, terrified out of his wits, "I was wrong... I really realize my mistake......"

"Too late!" Ma San snarled, "You weren't so arrogant? Weren't you so good at cursing? Come, let you also taste this!"

He grabbed Shen Qingshan's hair and brought the tweezers to his right eye. Shen Qingshan struggled desperately, but two gang members held him down firmly.

"Don't move," Ma San whispered, "the more you move, the unsteadier my hand becomes. If I accidentally puncture the eyeball, that wouldn't be fun."

Shen Qingshan's wife and children were so terrified they lay limp on the ground, not daring to cry. The Axe Head Gang members watched expressionlessly, as if they had long grown accustomed to the boss's methods.

"Come," Ma San's voice turned unusually gentle, "let us take it slow......"

The tip of the tweezers slowly approached Shen Qingshan's eyeball. This tycoon who once called the wind and summoned the rain in the British Concession could now only utter desperate wails. But in Ma San's eyes, those screams were the most moving music.