Chapter 413

"What did you used to do? West Origin Company is just a recycling firm funded by Fasick merchants—do you have other businesses?" Li Xiaodao bit down on a cigarette, glanced at the old man, and replied indifferently.

"You're right, young brother. Though West Origin Company is nominally funded by Fasick merchants, the real boss is someone else. It wasn't originally a recycling business—it handled mortgage collateral and violent jobs. But over the past two years, we've cleaned up a lot, so we do less of that now," the fat old man explained with a smile.

"Violent jobs? So West Origin Company has gang ties?" Li Xiaodao suddenly felt the cigarette lose its effect, frowning as he stared at the old man.

"Yes. The largest shareholder of West Origin Company is actually a big shot from the Val Gang. Few people know this. You understand—some big shots don't like to draw attention. And unfortunately, I used to be that big shot's driver for a while," the fat old man chuckled.

Almost simultaneously, soft footsteps emerged from the nearby darkness, and seven or eight men in tight black outfits silently stepped out, each wielding sharp long blades and long iron rods, instantly surrounding Li Xiaodao and the truck.

"What's this mean?" Li Xiaodao spat out his cigarette and coldly asked the old man.

"Isn't it obvious? It's black eating black. You don't really believe that nonsense about your personal quirks, do you?"

"By now, your partner should've retrieved whatever you came for. Whatever it is, since it was found here, it belongs to West Origin Company," the fat old man said solemnly.

"You'll just pocket it yourself, won't you? I underestimated your greed—you still aren't satisfied even after getting so much money," Li Xiaodao's face darkened.

"Whether to hand it over to the company? I'll decide once I have it in hand—no need for you to worry. Knock him out, but leave him alive," the fat old man's kindly face flickered with cruelty as he gave the order without hesitation.

The men with iron rods and blades charged at Li Xiaodao without a word.

Li Xiaodao grunted, reached behind his back, and pulled out a short blade about a foot long. He bent forward slightly, and with a soft "whoosh," he became a shadow darting into the crowd.

Amid flashes of cold steel and clashing sounds, several figures screamed and collapsed immediately.

The fat old man, who had been smirking, froze in shock and blurted, "Kung fu!" Without hesitation, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small silver-white pistol, its black muzzle aimed at Li Xiaodao's flickering figure in the crowd, ready to fire at any moment.

Li Xiaodao noticed the old man's move but kept his expression calm, his body shifting constantly, mostly hiding behind others, his legs always slightly bent, as if ready to charge at any second.

Seeing this, the fat old man's eyes flashed with malice; his finger twitched, about to fire without caring for his men.

But at that instant, a sudden, powerful pulling force erupted from the pistol with a "puff."

The old man, caught off guard, loosened his grip, and the weapon flew out of his hand, landing far away in the hands of someone who had appeared at the gate.

It was Wang Yu, stepping out from the junkyard.

He looked at the scene outside, his face expressionless. The fat old man, however, panicked and spun around, sprinting toward the nearby darkness. Despite his bulk, his movements were surprisingly agile.

But just then, a whisper of wind sounded beside him, and a shadow flashed past.

A flash of cold light!

The fat old man's pupils dilated instantly. He clutched his throat and collapsed, blood gushing from the short blade embedded in his neck, pooling across the ground.

The shadow finally stopped, walked over to the corpse, and pulled the blade from the throat—it was Li Xiaodao.

At the former fight site, only three black-clad men remained standing. Their faces turned pale; they dropped their blades and bolted into the darkness.

Li Xiaodao, his face filled with murderous intent, stomped his foot and shot forward like a released crossbow bolt, chasing them into the dark.

Only then did Wang Yu step out of the gate, hands empty. He swept his vast spiritual sense around the area, confirmed no hidden surveillance devices remained, then flicked a finger toward the corpses. Tiny flames leapt out, landing precisely on each body.

"Puff. Puff…"

In an instant, the corpses turned to piles of ash in the flames.

He raised his hand and grasped the empty air above the ground.

Amid a clinking sound, all the weapons dropped by the black-clad men rose into the air and landed neatly inside the truck's cargo bed.

Then Wang Yu formed a hand seal, and a fierce wind surged, blowing the ashes completely away—even the traces of the fight blurred and vanished.

Soon after, Li Xiaodao emerged from the darkness, holding his cleaned short blade. Seeing the empty ground, he paused in surprise.

"All the bodies taken care of?" Wang Yu asked calmly.

"Don't worry—I'm a professional. Everything's handled. Sorry, I didn't expect a warehouse manager would dare black-eat-black," Li Xiaodao sheathed the blade behind his back and said apologetically to Wang Yu.

"It's fine. In Pengjie City, black-eating-black is normal. Can you clean up the aftermath?" Wang Yu said dismissively.

"Rest assured—I'll handle everything. West Origin Company won't come looking," Li Xiaodao replied without hesitation.

"Good. By now, domestic support should be arriving soon," Wang Yu suddenly asked.

"I don't know the details about the support team, but timing-wise—even using special channels—it should be about right. Once they enter Xierde, they'll contact us immediately," Li Xiaodao hesitated slightly, then answered honestly.

"Alright. Keep in touch with domestic. Notify me the moment you get any news," Wang Yu nodded, then swept a strand of spiritual awareness into the talisman within his spiritual sea. Inside the talisman's space, dozens of battered, colorful stun devices lay scattered in the corner—over a hundred in total.

Each device retained only its front section, but every one glowed faintly with pale white talismanic patterns—clearly sealed to suppress their energy.

These were naturally his major haul for tonight.

Wang Yu suppressed his inner joy, relocked the iron gate, then climbed into the truck with Li Xiaodao and sped away.

Before the iron gate, silence returned.

But after some time, soft footsteps emerged from the darkness nearby. A blurred figure slowly stepped out, its eyes fixed in disbelief on the direction the truck had vanished, like a ghost.

"Psychic. Outsider. Dangerous."

After a long pause, the blurred figure muttered a vague, indistinct sound, then quietly merged back into the darkness.