Chapter 108: The Brave Prevail (Begging for Monthly Tickets!)

Before the blade across from him could even chop down, Zhao Jin's spear had already pierced into the man's chest — the thrust shot forth like lightning, driving straight through, then yanked back out at furious speed!

A jet of blood shot from the big man's chest as he toppled stiffly to the ground. Chen Sheng's blade struck just as true — after piercing through the enemy's chest and belly, he twisted it with the momentum, churning the man's innards to pulp. The pain was so fierce he couldn't even hold his saber; howling, he crashed to the ground. By the time the blade was pulled free, his breath had already ceased.

The man standing in the middle hadn't even had time to react before Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng had already charged past him. A flash of cold light swept across his throat — he dropped his pudao, clutched his throat, and collapsed to his knees. Before he could even process what had happened, a double-bladed axe came smashing down right onto his head.

This gang of big men had been far too careless. It was no wonder, really — they'd looked down even on the riffraff Liu Yong had brought along, let alone these people they were meeting for the first time. But regret came far too late.

Zhao Jin pulled his spear back, swayed his upper body, and thrust out again. The big men in the back row hadn't even had time to get into stance before his spear skewered one right through the throat — another one finished. Chen Sheng's blade swung up, clashing against an oncoming enemy's pudao. Using the rebound, he pulled back and then extended in one motion, slicing right across the man's neck. Half the neck was cut open, blood splashing all over the face of the comrade beside him. Zhao Jin swung his spear and lashed it hard across that man's neck — a "crack" rang out, and the neck bent at a grotesque angle as he collapsed dead.

Six men killed in the first exchange. The big men still standing in the back row stared as if they'd seen demons and monsters, scrambling backward in panic. Zhao Jin and his group's fierce charging momentum had also run its course. After a brief readjustment, the two sides finally put some distance between them.

"Th-they killed Brother Hu! Slaughter them! Avenge him!" The gang of men saw their comrades' corpses and the blood, and every one of them went red-eyed, roaring as they brandished blades and charged.

Earlier, these blade-wielders had been three abreast, which made the street rather cramped and hard to maneuver in. This time they came in pairs, holding their pudao level — they were actually using a thrusting stance too, charging straight ahead.

"Bingfeng, shoulder to shoulder with me! Chen Sheng, switch to support!" Zhao Jin bellowed again. They had been through life and death together, but they hadn't really practiced coordinated fighting. Still, the companions were already used to following Zhao Jin's commands, and in this moment of life and death, they moved on pure instinct. Chen Sheng and Dong Bingfeng scrambled to swap positions.

The distance they'd opened up wasn't large to begin with, and in the gap it took to switch positions, the two sides had already closed to within five paces. Zhao Jin shouted, "Bingfeng, level your spear! Charge with me!"

With that, Zhao Jin charged forward in great strides. Dong Bingfeng paused for just a beat, then yelled and followed!

Both of them trained with the spear — they'd drilled this charging thrust who knew how many times.

The pudao was a long weapon, but not as long as a spear. In a head-on clash, the spear would definitely strike first. Yet the two big men charging at them believed they had a fierce courage, that these youngsters whose childish looks hadn't even faded would surely flinch, would surely panic.

Five paces of distance — crossed in an instant. Zhao Jin and Dong Bingfeng were both utterly resolute. Zhao Jin's heart was like steel, and Dong Bingfeng had already gone past fear and terror; he was following on pure instinct!

Do these two brats not fear death? The two big men finally couldn't take it. In the instant before collision, they tried to turn and dodge — but at such close range, how could they possibly? Zhao Jin's spear drove straight into his opponent's ribs, while Dong Bingfeng's pierced the other man's lower back.

Both wounds were equally fatal. A heaven-shaking shriek rang out — neither of these two would live.

But in that lightning-flash instant, Zhao Jin's spear got stuck in the corpse's ribs and wouldn't pull free. He yanked twice. An enemy across from him spotted the opening, cursed furiously, and raised his blade to charge. In this moment, there was no dodging and no retreating. Zhao Jin threw aside his spear and lunged forward, crashing bodily right into the man's chest.

The man he'd crashed into stumbled back two steps, cursing as he moved to smash down with his saber hilt. But just as he started the motion, a searing pain tore through his chest and gut — all the strength in his body drained away through that spot of agony. He looked down. Zhao Jin was pulling a short knife out of his body.

This move had closed the distance. The man beside him raised his blade in a rage, mouthing some curse — Zhao Jin couldn't dodge anymore. Was he going to die here on the spot? In that instant, Zhao Jin felt his whole body turn ice-cold and freeze solid.

A "whoosh" — something flew in from behind. Before the man could react, something struck his shoulder, knocking him off balance. Before his arms could even drop, Chen Sheng had already shoved Zhao Jin aside and driven his long blade straight into the man's throat.

The object that had hit the man landed on the ground — it was Liu Yong's axe. Zhao Jin let out a breath, his whole body drenched in cold sweat. But there was no time to dwell on it now. He bent down, scooped up a pudao, and found himself already behind the others.

Who could have imagined that such a bloody and brutal battle would erupt in this narrow street? Who could have imagined that, in such a short time, a group of eight teenagers would fight their way to this point?

The hatred and madness of the four remaining men had already been replaced by terror. Watching these blood-drenched gods of slaughter show no sign of stopping, their courage shattered. With a few shrieks, they turned and fled. Dong Bingfeng had already charged — the man facing him was run clean through. The other three didn't even want their weapons anymore; they threw them to the ground and ran for their lives. While Dong Bingfeng was pulling his spear free, Chen Sheng and Wang Zhaojing had already rushed ahead. Killing from behind was the simplest thing — one slash, one thrust, and two more were finished.

The last one running had already lost control of his bowels; his lower half was soaked through, the stench overwhelming. He ran weeping, his mind likely shattered. Wang Zhaojing and Chen Sheng hesitated for a moment, and the distance widened. The moment they slowed, someone sprinted past them at full speed. Everyone looked — it was Zhao Jin, holding a pudao. His steps were incredibly fast; he had no intention of letting this go.

Zhao Jin had just brushed past the edge of life and death. He had never been this tense and terrified before. As his emotions settled, all that remained was fury and killing intent. These blade-wielders were far too desperate and ruthless — not a single one could be left alive. They had to be wiped out completely. He ran with the pudao at extreme speed, gradually closing in on the man ahead.

After just a few steps, the two of them burst out of that stretch of street. The blade-wielder suddenly howled at the top of his lungs, "Save me! Help!"

At the street intersection, there were actually several dozen ruffians and thugs gathered, each holding some kind of weapon. Zhao Jin's blood was already up — how could he care about any of that? The fleeing blade-wielder ahead had cried and begged until his breath gave out; his steps tangled and he tripped, crashing to the ground. Zhao Jin strode up and brought his blade chopping down!

The head rolled far away. The blade-wielder's lifeblood gushed out in a torrent, dyeing a huge patch of ground crimson.

Only then did Zhao Jin stop his steps, staring hard at the several dozen street thugs before him.

The beheading and the spray of blood made the several dozen men standing there recoil on pure instinct. When Zhao Jin's gaze swept over them, they couldn't help but retreat even further.

Right now, Zhao Jin was drenched in blood from head to toe, his face a mask of gore, a pudao in his hand. In every way, he looked like a god of slaughter.

"Master Fu... Master Fu's men are all dead..." someone said, voice trembling.

At that moment, Chen Sheng and the others also burst out from the street behind him. Six more people followed, holding long poles. Lu Da was at the very front, the wooden club in his hands shaking uncontrollably; the others' faces were deathly pale.

"Big Brother!" everyone shouted in a jumbled chorus. Zhao Jin glanced back and grinned. Seeing him grin like that, Chen Sheng couldn't hold back and started laughing too. Everyone looked at each other, and one by one, they all burst out laughing.

Amidst their laughter, the several dozen thugs kept scattering further and further. Some of them had their backs pressed right up against courtyard walls — there was nowhere left to retreat.

"Brothers, let's keep killing! Let's wash these scumbags away in one go!" Zhao Jin raised his blade and declared.

Hearing his words, Zhao Jin's friends all felt a surge of heroic spirit and roared back in unison, "Yeah!"

Before the sound even faded, someone — no one knew who — yelled "Oh god!" and the several dozen thugs scattered in an instant. They threw away their weapons and fled for their lives, clutching their heads like rats. Some tripped and fell to the ground, only to be trampled by countless stampeding feet. In the blink of an eye, the street was completely empty — save for the short knives, axes, and clubs littering the ground, and Zhao Jin's group, standing ramrod straight and drenched in blood.

Victory. The thought flashed through Zhao Jin's mind, and immediately his body went weak. He quickly propped himself up with his blade. But Zhao Jin recovered swiftly — it wasn't exhaustion, just a moment of release after the desperate, bloody battle.

His companions' reactions were much the same. Sun Dalei said with a mournful face, "A perfectly good set of clothes, and now they're unwearable again!"

"Add a bit of soda ash when you wash them — how are they unwearable? You're the only one so fussy," Chen Sheng said dismissively from the side.

"You don't get it — having the smell of blood on you is bad luck." The two of them started arguing as if no one else was there. Zhao Jin and the others found it hilarious and couldn't help but burst out laughing. The laughter grew louder and louder, utterly unrestrained.

Right as they were laughing, they heard the clatter of clubs hitting the ground. Turning to look, they saw that Lu Da and the others who had followed had all dropped their clubs, every one of them standing there in stunned shock.

"Mother of god, scared me half to death," Lu Da muttered. Two of the people behind him had already sat down on the ground, their whole bodies trembling uncontrollably.

"You few aren't bad — got some guts," Zhao Jin praised. This Lu Da might eat a lot and be simple and honest, but he won out with his strength, courage, and obedience. Not bad indeed.

With some people sitting on the ground, Zhao Jin caught sight of the person behind them. He paused, then praised, "Leizi's not bad — a true brother."

A few of the braver ones had followed the charge, and Lei Cai had come along too. But he was short and scrawny, so no one had noticed him. Only when the people in front sat down did Zhao Jin see him.

Liu Yong waved his fist excitedly at Lei Cai — the man he'd brought along had shown such courage, making him look especially good in front of his friends.

"Leizi, take one of Xiaoyong's men and head to the God of Wealth Temple right now. Tell Chen Ergou to bring people over and clean this place up," Zhao Jin ordered. Lei Cai froze for a second, then hurriedly agreed, his face already flushing bright red. He knew he was being trusted.

The men Liu Yong had brought were either dead or had fled, so he had to go back into the street first to find someone. Zhao Jin smiled and spoke again to Lu Da and the people behind him: "I know your name is Lu Da. The rest of you, tell me your names one more time."

No reaction came from those behind him. Looking closely, every one of them stood there with a dazed expression.