Chapter 34

“Why is it a place like this?” Cao Yang hadn’t expected the transaction site to be an abandoned building. It was too remote, overgrown with weeds, surrounded by half-finished construction.

“He’s not planning to double-cross us, is he?” Lei Yu, reminded of some movie plots, grew nervous and leaned closer to Cao Yang.

“Don’t know. But let’s stay sharp.” Cao Yang, bold because of his skills, strode inside.

…

The place was empty, not a soul in sight. Just as they were about to call Fatty Qi in confusion, footsteps echoed from the third floor.

“Up here,” Fatty Qi waved at them from above.

Cao Yang led Lei Yu upstairs. He actually hadn’t wanted her to come—dragging along a useless woman to such a deal was just a burden. But Lei Yu had insisted, fearing like Li Yan that he might run off with the money.

On the third floor, they found not only Fatty Qi but also six other men, all either shaggy-haired or bald, clearly no good types.

“Stay close. If there’s a fight, hide behind me.” Cao Yang whispered. Lei Yu nodded.

“Brother, sister, did you bring the goods?” Fatty Qi grinned.

Cao Yang nodded, patting the backpack. “It’s all in here. Did you bring the money?”

“Of course.” Fatty Qi pointed to a bulging briefcase behind him, then reached for the bag.

Quick as lightning, Cao Yang pulled it back. “Let us see the money first.”

Fatty Qi burst out laughing. “Money? I’ll burn it for you in the afterlife—there’s plenty where that came from.”

He shot a look at his six thugs, who immediately drew machetes from their waists and approached, smirking.

“Boss Qi, that woman’s not bad-looking. We want to have some fun.”

“I only need the goods. Do what you like with the rest, just clean up afterward.”

“Ah—!” A scream cut him off.

Before Fatty Qi knew what happened, Cao Yang had kicked him flying, smashing him into a wall so hard he couldn’t get up.

In his mind, Cao Yang should’ve been panicked—either fleeing or begging for mercy—not attacking first.

The six men froze, stunned. Nearly 200 pounds of Fatty Qi had been launched by a single kick. Just how strong was this kid?

“Kill him!”

One long-haired thug swung his machete straight at Cao Yang’s neck, a killing blow.

Cao Yang moved with lightning speed, seizing the man’s wrist and twisting hard.

Crack! His wrist snapped.

“Aaaah!” the thug screamed, dropping the blade.

Before it hit the ground, Cao Yang kicked it up, caught it, and drove it into the man’s stomach.

The tip pierced through, jutting out from his back, dripping blood.

Originally, Cao Yang had aimed for the heart—or the head—but at the last second, his mother’s fierce glare flashed before his eyes, making him shift the strike.

Pulling the blade free, he booted the man across the floor. Whether he’d survive was anyone’s guess.

Turning to the others, Cao Yang’s gaze was ice. The five remaining thugs shivered—one of their leaders downed in a single exchange?

“Kill him! Avenge Brother Ji!” someone shouted, and they rushed together.

A bald thug charged first, hacking down.

Cao Yang didn’t flinch. He swung his own machete to meet it.

Bang!

The bald man’s blade flew from his hands, his palm split open and bleeding. His wrist trembled uncontrollably. Staring at Cao Yang in horror, he realized the strength behind that swing was monstrous.

Cao Yang countered, swinging at his head. Cold dread filled the bald thug—this was his death.

Thud!

His skull jolted violently, and he collapsed, unconscious. A welt swelled on his shiny scalp—Cao Yang had struck with the blade’s back, pulling his power. Otherwise, the man would be dead.

At the same time, Cao Yang hadn’t ignored the others. One thug took a vicious kick to the groin, howling in agony.

The last three hesitated, terrified. None dared step forward.

They froze—Cao Yang didn’t. With a roar, he charged them, machete raised.

“Mother of—!”

The three cowards screamed, abandoned their comrades, and bolted downstairs.

“Tch.” Cao Yang sneered. Let them run. He hadn’t come to brawl, just to trade.

Glancing at the stunned Lei Yu, he strode toward Fatty Qi.

“Brother! Don’t do anything rash! Killing is against the law—you don’t want to ruin your life!” Fatty Qi wailed, pleading with him not to take the wrong path.

Cao Yang kicked him hard. “Why couldn’t you just trade straight? Why go this far?”

“I didn’t want to either! But these goods belong to the Yihe Society. If I take them, I have to tie up loose ends!”

“Oh? Then maybe I should tie up you right now?”

“No, no! I was wrong! Let me go. Forget the goods—the sixty grand in that bag, take it as my gift!”

Cao Yang opened the briefcase: neat stacks of cash.

Clearly, Fatty Qi had two plans. If Cao Yang came with backup, he’d trade cleanly. If not—he’d wipe them out.

Just then, screams echoed from below, followed by a flood of footsteps. Looking down, Cao Yang saw a group of men in black suits hauling up the three thugs who had fled earlier. They tossed them aside like dead dogs.

The group scanned the scene, eyes locking on Cao Yang.

A burly man with a crew cut stepped forward. “You’re Lei Dian?”

Cao Yang shook his head.

The man turned to Fatty Qi and strode over. “You knew these goods belonged to our Yihe Society, and you dared to touch them? Don’t you take us seriously?”

“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t know!” Fatty Qi denied frantically.

Smack! The man slapped him across the face.

Fatty Qi cursed silently, damning Li’s ancestors for this setup. The Yihe Society showing up here could only mean Li had tipped them off.

“You. Come with us.” The crew-cut man bent to pick up Cao Yang’s backpack, his tone imperious.

But Cao Yang was faster. He snatched it back, eyes cold. “Who the hell are you, and why should I go anywhere with you?”