Master of Chinese Martial Arts: I Can Steal the Skills of a Grandmaster from the Republic of China E

Chapter 105 The Time Has Arrived (Third Update)

Zhou Xing's office is located on the third floor of the Central Police Station in the French Concession.

The atmosphere was completely different from the hustle and bustle outside, and Renault's heart was surging with excitement.

Zhong Ding sat in the chair opposite Zhou Xing, legs crossed, his fingertips gripping a list of gifts from the merchants in the flower arrangement market, which he shook loudly. His face was flushed: "So, Brother Zhou, getting things done requires not only courage, but also method and business acumen. Look at this tough nut to crack in the flower arrangement market, you've cracked it and established your authority, that's excellent."

But to stew the meat until it's tender and falling apart, so that it's absorbed into your body and becomes your own fat and oil, that's true skill.

He glanced at the silent Zhou Xing, raised his voice, and said with a hint of condescension, "These are all real achievements! When I follow the captain up a couple more steps and show my face at the Municipal Council, I'll put in a good word for you. It won't hurt you to broaden your horizons."

Zhou Xing sat behind his desk, eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to Zhong Ding's words.

Hans crossed his arms and leaned against the filing cabinet by the door, looking out the window.

Listening to Zhong Ding's incessant self-praise and his implicitly belittling praise of Zhou Xing, his brows furrowed more and more.

Finally, when Zhong Ding once again lamented, "We still have to rely on management; fighting and killing won't last," Hans couldn't help but blurt out, "Detective Zhong, if it weren't for the deputy captain leading the men to break into the flower garden, you probably wouldn't even have dared to approach the door."

Zhong Ding was in the middle of a lively conversation when these words made him freeze in shock. He then became somewhat embarrassed and angry, glaring at Hans, wanting to lash out, but Hans was a foreigner.

He could only puff out his cheeks to suppress his anger and give a dry laugh.

Hans ignored him and turned to Zhou Xing, who had been resting with his eyes closed.

After spending these days together, Hans had mixed feelings about this young but capable deputy captain of the Chinese police force.

He admired the other party's courage and ability, but he also dutifully carried out the surveillance mission assigned by Renault.

Seeing Zhou Xing remain silent despite Zhong Ding's nagging, his own sense of integrity and resentment resurfaced.

Zhou Xing spoke at this moment, his eyes still closed: "Hans, how long have you been following Renault?"

The question came abruptly, and Hans was taken aback. During the days they had worked together, Zhou Xing had almost never inquired about Renault's personal affairs, let alone asked him about them.

He thought for a moment and then answered, "Four years and seven months. During the suppression of bandits in Southeast Asia, my colonial squad was ambushed. It was the captain who led his men in and dragged me out of a pile of dead bodies."

When Renault was mentioned, his eyes lit up, and a hint of respect and admiration involuntarily appeared on his face.

"He saved my life. More than once. Captain, he is fair in his rewards and punishments and always keeps his word. With this matter settled, Vice Captain, your future will be very bright."

He tried to comfort Zhou Xing, who seemed to be neglected, even adding a touch of personal warmth: "Once things are settled in Tianjin, the merits and allowances I've accumulated should be enough for me to apply for a transfer back to France. My wife is still waiting for me in Marseille."

Zhou Xing listened quietly without saying a word.

Zhong Ding, left out in the cold, saw Hans actually showing favoritism towards Zhou Xing and even bringing up these things, and couldn't help but feel sour. He couldn't help but interject, "Lieutenant Hans is just standing up for you. But then again, the captain letting Detective Zhou oversee the central command is the greatest trust he can place in you."

Listen to the commotion outside. The captain is probably already in the front row of the viewing platform, right? Of course, the most trusted confidant has to stay at home to keep things under control.

He deliberately pronounced the word "镇着" slowly and heavily.

Before he could finish speaking...

Zhou Xing opened his eyes.

His gaze passed over Zhong Ding's smug face and landed on the old boxwood clock on the wall. The pendulum swayed gently, pointing to 7:15.

He sighed softly, as if he had removed the last invisible shackle.

"The time has come."

Zhong Ding didn't hear clearly, or rather, didn't react. What auspicious time?

The confusion on his face hadn't even had a chance to surface.

The next moment!

Zhou Xing, who was behind the desk, disappeared.

Still as a virgin, swift as a rabbit!

Without warning, he sprang up from his chair like a skinny tiger suddenly leaping out of its shell, taking a single step over the desk and appearing half a foot in front of Zhong Ding!

Zhong Ding didn't even see how he got there. He only felt a blur before his eyes, and his vision was suddenly filled with a gust of wind.

Zhou Xing's left hand, fingers together, resembled a bird's beak or a venomous snake, drawing a short, sharp line that pecked at the Adam's apple of the bronze vessel.

"Snap!"

A slight cracking sound as bone broke.

Zhong Ding's throat tightened suddenly, and all the unspoken sarcasm, smugness, and scheming froze on his face.

His eyes bulged out in disbelief. He tried to inhale, but could only let out a "ho" sound as air leaked out.

He raised his hands in vain, halfway up his arms, when the light in his eyes quickly dimmed.

"Bang."

His heavy body, along with the chair, tumbled backward, crashed to the ground, convulsed twice, and died.

He died without understanding what had happened.

From the moment of movement to the moment of killing, it didn't even take a single breath.

The warmth on Hans's face froze instantly, turning into immense shock and horror!

The body reacted before the mind could react. The right foot took a half step back, the waist and hips twisted, the right hand touched the gun handle, and the left hand was raised at the same time to protect the center line. It was a standard military combat starting stance.

But the cycle is faster.

The instant he killed Zhong Ding, he touched the ground with his toes, his waist snapped like a spring, and he lunged at Hans by the door.

With a swift and slippery movement, Bagua swam around, instantly cutting into Hans's side opening.

Hans reacted extremely quickly, abandoning the attempt to draw his gun, and with a swift and powerful elbow strike, he swept Zhou Xing's temple with his left arm!

A sudden gust of wind arose.

Without dodging or avoiding, Zhou Xing continued his advance, his right arm moving upwards like a snake, the muscles on the outside of his forearm tensing as he slammed into Hans' elbow!

Xingyi Horizontal Fist!

"Snapped!"

The two arms crossed, the muscles and bones colliding with a dull thud.

Hans felt a sharp pain in his elbow, as if he had hit an iron bar, and most of the force had been dissipated.

Using the force of the collision, Zhou Xing spun around half a circle and was now behind Hans. He swiftly grabbed Hans's nape with his left hand, which formed a claw.

Hans was horrified; the hairs on his neck stood on end, and a sense of crisis overwhelmed him.

He suddenly leaned forward, performing a clumsy but effective forward roll, while simultaneously swinging his right foot back like a scorpion, aiming for Zhou Xing's groin!

Zhou Xing pressed down and stroked with his empty hand, pressing down on Hans's raised instep, releasing a hidden force.

The force is concealed within the pressing force!

Hans's entire right leg went numb, as if he had been electrocuted, and the force of his kick instantly dissipated.

He had only completed half of his forward roll when he lost his balance.

Just as Hans's old strength was exhausted and new strength had not yet been generated, Zhou Xing's pursuit arrived.

He took a half step forward, twisted his waist and hips like a millstone, channeling his power through his body, and his right fist exploded from his waist. It was silent yet so fast that it left a trail of afterimages, and landed solidly on Hans's left arm, which he was barely raising to block.

Half-step Crushing Fist!

"Snap!"

The crisp sound of a broken arm bone.

Hans groaned in pain as his blocking arm was smashed open by an irresistible force, leaving his defenses wide open.

Before Zhou Xingquan's movements were finished, within a small space, his right hand spread its five fingers wide, then clenched them tightly, delivering a short, hammer-like, hidden-force punch forward with a thrust and a push.

The fist's eye was imprinted on Hans's heart.

"Thump!"

A muffled thud, like a heavy hammer striking a drum.

Hans shuddered violently, his eyes bulged out, and he opened his mouth, spurting out a large amount of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs.

The punch sent him flying backward, his feet leaving the ground, and his back slammed hard against the edge of the heavy solid wood desk.

"Snap!"

The edge of the table is cracked.

He slid down the edge of the table and sat on the floor, his back against the table leg, a fist-shaped dent clearly visible in his chest.

His gaze began to dart away, yet he remained fixed on Zhou Xing.

Zhou walked up to him, squatted down, and pulled the well-maintained pistol from Hans's gradually loosening holster. He removed the magazine, glanced at it, and then clicked it back in.

Hans's lips moved, and blood gushed out: "Why—?"

Zhou Xing looked at his increasingly lifeless eyes, remained silent for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "I'm sorry. We each serve our own masters. You are Renault's servant, but I am not. I am the master of my own body."

After saying that, he stood up without lingering, his face expressionless.

Inside the office, Zhong Ding had a deep, purplish-black dent in his throat, while Hans leaned against the table leg, his chest and abdomen a mess.

The blood slowly seeped out.

The sweet, pungent smell of fresh blood quickly overwhelmed the odor of old wood and paper in the air.

Clean and efficient. From start to finish, it took less than three breaths.

Zhou walked to the window and glanced at the bustling world outside. In the distance, the sounds of drums, gongs, and cheers could be faintly heard from the direction of the Tianhou Temple.

He lowered his head, took out a brass pocket watch from his pocket, and snapped the watch cover open.

It was a quarter past seven in the morning.

He closed the watch case and put it back in his pocket.

The time has come; his river god ceremony has just begun.