Chapter 83: Only I Have My Own Law Chapter 83 Striped Tie Gray Suit

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

The Italian's nose twitched; slowly he pried open a gap wide enough with his knife, then had the person behind him go through first.

Downstairs he had seemed confident, looking down on the Germans.

But upstairs, his caution was completely different.

Nine European burly men walked out of the stairwell one by one.

From his direction he could see a pool of blood and a Korean groaning in pain. These yellow-skinned Asian faces gathered into three small circles, tending to each other's wounds, occasionally cursing something.

The focus of everyone's gaze was naturally Chen Yi, holding a mop stick.

He faced the Europeans sideways and had no intention of turning his head.

The Italian slowly raised his knife.

Just as he was about to give the order, Chen Yi spoke in quite clear Chinese: "Well done, keep demanding 350 times leverage from them."

"What does that mean?" the Italian immediately asked the companion beside him who knew Chinese best.

"I'm calling the bank," answered Chen Yi himself.

He showed a tired smile, the blood-stained stick hanging by his leg. A drop of blood seemed to be gathering.

Bank?

The Italian was somewhat confused by the situation.

The wounded on the ground and pools of blood everywhere were obviously not problems a bank should solve.

"You're Chen Yi, right?" he tried to sound friendly.

"No," Chen Yi answered directly.

The Italian had seen his photos and simply didn't believe it, chuckling twice, saying: "Not a bad attempt. Come with us, or else..."

As he raised the knife handle, he looked around, threatening its creator in a pool of blood, which seemed to lack much power.

"Who sent you?" Chen Yi naturally asked.

The Italian just smiled.

Chen Yi raised the mop stick again; it was now at most one-third of its original length.

"We have nine people, do you still want to try?"

As he spoke, the European burly men had already slowly surrounded him.

Han Jie shouted from the room inside: "I've already called the police, you'd better leave soon."

"We will leave, leaving together with Mr. Chen." The Italian's English was better than his Chinese, but both were stiff like crash-course spoken language, saying: "Don't worry, we won't hurt you."

Chen Yi frowned; although he had lost a lot of stamina, fighting another round was no problem. He was only worried that Han Jie behind him might get hurt.

As for Jin Douna—he carefully turned his body, leaned against the wall, reached into his backpack, and tore open a Listening Scroll.

Level 3 Listening Scroll: can expand hearing and hear the inner voices of living beings.

A jumble of chaotic information rushed into his head.

Mostly meaningless words, occasionally some short phrases, with no actual content.

Chen Yi recalled the feeling of being filled with power just now, focusing it on the Italian.

"Software, torture."

This was the clearest word brought by the Listening.

His expression immediately soured.

From the word "software" alone, he could think of Wall Street and high-frequency trading. Only that was worth torturing for.

The Italian thought his intimidation had worked, excitedly patting the person beside him, saying: "Take Mr. Chen into the elevator."

The others still closed in bit by bit, with only one person stepping forward, wanting to handcuff Chen Yi's hands.

Chen Yi moved the wooden stick slightly, adopting a stance that could attack or defend, and focused his spirit on Jin Douna.

A feeling of sorrow suddenly enveloped him.

"Miss, organization" were the two words he heard.

"What organization?" Chen Yi frowned, and thought: Are the two groups together?

Chen Rongxi suddenly shouted: "Second Brother, be careful!"

She then splashed a whole bucket of water out.

The circling Europeans were soaked to the skin, their eyes wide, babbling in some country's language.

"You're still the Eight-Nation Alliance." Chen Yi had just managed to say a sentence, his wrist lightly turned, making a forward thrusting motion.

The man closest to him, not understanding, still had his left hand on the handcuffs, smiling on his lips: "Relax (easy), relax..."

The mop stick thrust out like lightning, hitting him squarely in the chest.

The blunt wooden stick penetrated only two or three centimeters of flesh, but the huge impact made him stumble backward "bang bang" continuously.

"All together." The Italian brandished the Turkish Sword, at the same time saying: "Take them alive, not necessarily whole."

Chen Yi easily shook his head, the wooden stick in his hand not swaying at all.

He chuckled twice, saying: "I won't guarantee you're all intact."

The European men rushed up together, with quite the power of a battle formation.

This impact and deterrence were far more formidable than the disorganized Korean Peasant Army. Not to mention they had quite a few sharp blades in their hands.

Chen Yi retreated and advanced, instantly knocking down one, then consecutively blocking four long swords.

He exhaled lightly.

The knightly martial arts of Holy Qiao do not fear situations of fighting one against many.

Especially the so-called Knight Foot Combat Technique, which was originally meant for knights who had lost their horses and were surrounded by infantry.

Heavy encirclement, for knights, cannot be called an everyday occurrence, but it is something they must be accustomed to. Chen Yi had practiced combat techniques for several hundred hours; it could not be called complete mastery, but it counted as proficiency.

A Turkish knife slipped through the gaps between people, silently attacking the opponent's abdomen.

Chen Yi seemed not to have looked at all; his body naturally shifted, and he crossed paths with the blade unscathed.

That breath once again filled his body.

From outside to inside, from inside to outside.

The entire stairwell space seemed to be enveloped under a single breath.

And he, now, could perceive everything happening here through this breath.

He didn't need to look to know the attack routes of the other four people; he didn't need to look to know Han Jie's terrified appearance covering her mouth; he didn't need to look to know Jin Douna's conflicted expression with eyes wide open; he didn't need to look to know the weakened state of the several senior students vomiting...

Over a thousand hours of combat practice made him habitually sprint to attack, retreat to dodge then attack again...

A European fell to the ground, hit squarely on the bridge of the nose.

One clutched his bleeding lower abdomen, leaning on a wooden stick, but his hand strength was insufficient, and he couldn't hold on.

The Italian's face turned extremely ugly; he roared two sentences loudly, his slightly chaotic offensive stopped, and the remaining 6 people regrouped into a semicircle, slowly closing in again.

It seems they want to maintain the encirclement.

The stairwell fell silent for a moment.

Chen Yi's expression grew a bit more grave; the wooden stick in his hand twirled in flourishes.

He was confident he could handle 6 well-trained people, but under these conditions, he would likely have to pay a price.

"All of you go back to the room, lock the door, Big Brother will be back soon." Chen Yi could only say this to the people behind him.

Although the several students had some combat power, they could barely fight the international students, but facing these few European big men of unknown origin was too dangerous.

Han Jie and Chen Rongxi fumbled to close the doors and dragged a file cabinet to block it from inside.

Jin Douna and the senior students were all helping, but their main focus was on the mobile phone in their pocket.

She was hesitating whether to ask Liu Xinyu about this matter.

However, these Europeans didn't seem like members of the Organization's interior.

Right at the most dangerous moment, messy footsteps sounded again on the stairs.

The Italian's face showed joy; he shouted: "Schnod, is that you?"

He had the same worry, not wanting to suffer excessive losses.

Instead, answering him was not that thick Germanic accent, but a fierce kick to the door, and a bunch of pitch-black gun muzzles.

The guns were a mixed equipment of pistols and micro submachine guns.

The gunmen were neither police nor military.

The leader was even a slick character with an ugly trendy hairstyle.

An exquisite gray suit and red striped tie, worn on a young man drenched in sweat, somewhat ruined his image, but one had to admit, this person was indeed handsome like a newly promoted male star.

He glanced at the situation, showed slight surprise at the blood all over the floor and the injured targets, but then immediately relaxed, and even started teasing: "Schnod is a German name, right? He's locked up downstairs. You brothers stand against the wall."

Speaking, this person disregarded the controlled knives nearby, and actually carried his gun through from the left side. As if he wasn't afraid of being attacked at all.

A European wanted to move, but was stopped by the Italian's stern stern gaze.

Under the watch of six, seven, eight guns, today's mission was definitely a failure, why lose a life over it.

The Italian valued promises most; he said surrender meant absolutely no resistance.

The suit man nodded approvingly, came to Chen Yi's side, raised his gun to block in front, then said in fluent English: "Everyone against the wall and kneel within 10 seconds, otherwise shoot to kill all."

His subordinates seemed to all understand English; a burst of racking slides made one's teeth ache.

The suit man didn't look behind, turned his head and smiled: "You're Chen Yi, right? I'm Zhu Guangliang. Temporarily responsible for your safety."

Chen Yi felt that breath filling his body, disturbed by more numerous subtle breaths, gradually becoming faint and indistinct.

Probably because there were too many people.

He looked at Zhu Guangliang with some annoyance, his nose letting out a "Hmph."

Zhu Guangliang's expression changed slightly; in his mind he imagined a little man, fiercely stepping on Chen Yi, stepping hard, stepping hard, stepping hard: I hate Aristocratic Scions the most, I hate Aristocratic Scions the most, I hate Aristocratic Scions the most...

Then, with a face full of smiles, he said to Chen Yi: "Mr. Chen, rest assured, we won't disturb your normal life; we'll leave once the matter is resolved."

He waved his hand. Two young men in jackets holstered their micro submachine guns and handcuffed the Europeans one by one.

Crisis averted, the girls rushed up at once, grabbing Chen Yi's arms and legs: "How are you, how are you..."

Zhu Guangliang rubbed his face, then turned to the girls: "Which one is Miss Han? I'm ordered to escort you back."

No one replied.

Everyone was busy playing with Chen Yi.

Zhu Guangliang continued imagining the little man in his mind: it kept stepping and stepping, stepping and stepping! I hate Aristocratic Scions the most, I hate Aristocratic Scions the most...

A jacket man stepped forward to request instructions: "Boss, all caught."

"I have eyes." Zhu Guangliang vented some anger, tone easing slightly: "Take them all back, whatever needs notifying, whatever needs informing, all according to regulations."

"Yes." The jacket man saluted.

Zhu Guangliang "pa" slapped his palm down, angrily: "Told you, forget all this broken stuff, forget it all, what are you doing."

"Yes." The jacket man stood with feet together, finally his hand didn't come out.

"Go back and clean you up. The Koreans on the ground aren't with them, arrest them too."

"Yes." The jacket man's hands and feet trembled habitually.

A few shouts finally attracted everyone's attention; the students who had just vomited looked at those pitch-black weapons, only ever seen on the big screen, with worshipful eyes, white crystalline fluid flowing from the corners of their mouths, unknown if it was envy or leftover residue.

Han Jie laughed lightly and said to Zhu Guangliang, "Thank you... Mr. Zhu."

"You're welcome, you're welcome, as long as Miss Han is fine. I still need to report back to Mr. Han Xiao later." Zhu Guangliang smiled while stepping on little figures in his mind.

"We should still thank you. Also, regarding the aftermath..."

"Don't worry, we've imposed martial law outside, and we'll tell the public it was a mental patient going berserk." Zhu Guangliang said casually; as for how exactly to announce it externally, that was actually no longer his responsibility.

"What about them?" Chen Yi pointed thoughtlessly at the senior students behind him.

The students all turned green instantly, and someone shouted loudly, "We don't know anything at all, we just saw a group of Koreans coming to hack people, we came to help!"

"We really came to help!"

Zhu Guangliang coughed once and said, "I'll record their names and information, and investigate further if there are problems later."

"What if they tell others?" Chen Yi blinked his eyes; he was trying to scare the senior students a bit, so no one would get drunk and blab.

Zhu Guangliang said understandingly, "If anyone tells others, we'll humanely destroy them."

However, the senior students were scared out of their wits, and someone couldn't help but start to vomit.

The jacket man beside him frowned and thought for half a day, not understanding what kind of procedure humane destruction was.

"Don't do it on the living room floor." Chen Yi reminded him hurriedly.

Chen Rongxi was carefree; seeing Second Brother was fine, she didn't care at all about the sticky bloodstains on the floor, and asked curiously, "Are you special forces?"

"More or less." Zhu Guangliang answered easily with his mouth, but proudly in his heart.

Chen Rongxi pinched his arm behind him and said, "Not as powerful as my grandfather's men."

Zhu Guangliang stood stiffly, crying inside, and desperately stepped on little figures in his mind: I hate aristocratic scions the most...

The jacket man came to report again: "There is a Mr. Chen Heng who says he is Mr. Chen's brother, and he is from the local Military Region."

"I told you already, remember the mission board, remember the mission board." Zhu Guangliang flew into a rage and said, "Is Chen Heng's name on it? Is his photo on it?"

The jacket man said quietly, "There's a name, but no photo."

"It should be my brother." Chen Yi interjected.

"Then bring him up." Zhu Guangliang turned and smiled, thinking in his mind: Aristocratic scions affecting my command—I hate them the most.

Aside from word count: I originally wanted to update three chapters yesterday, but after revising again and again, I ultimately couldn't succeed. Two chapters are still relatively easy for me, while the pressure of three chapters seems a bit greater. Zhi Niao Tun will try his best to keep two-chapter updates steady, and three chapters will appear randomly.