Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Thinking of this, Fatty San couldn't help but grin and laugh silently.

Today's ticket is worth almost half a year's hard-earned money at the teahouse.

As for whether that "Wang Jianguo" is dead or alive, or whether he really has any relatives in Hong Kong... who cares?

In this Catfish Alley, in the shadow of Tianjin Port, the disappearance of one or two outsiders every day is no different from the loss of a fish in the sea.

He was happily calculating how much he would get after Square Face and his gang succeeded when suddenly a very faint but unusually clear sound of footsteps came from the alley outside.

click, click, click...

Unhurried and steady, stepping on the uneven stone path, from afar to near, each step seemed to be precisely on a certain rhythm, carrying a cold, undeniable sense of rhythm.

Fatty San's fingers, which were fiddling with the abacus, suddenly stopped, his smile froze instantly, and his ears involuntarily perked up.

That footsteps... something's not right!

It didn't sound like the loud noise of the square-faced gang returning after their success, nor did it sound like an ordinary passerby at night.

Too steady, too cold, carrying a... murderous aura?

He suddenly raised his head and looked at the curtain hanging low at the door. The muscles on his fat face began to twitch slightly uncontrollably.

An ominous premonition, like a cold, venomous snake, crept silently up his spine.

The footsteps stopped outside the teahouse.

The curtain was gently lifted by a hand wearing a black leather glove.

A person walked in sideways.

The black leather jacket gleamed with a cold, hard sheen under the dim light, its collar turned up high, obscuring the neck and part of the chin.

He was wearing a pair of brown sunglasses, obscuring his eyes behind the lenses. One could only sense two icy gazes sweeping across the empty teahouse lobby before finally settling on Fatty San's face behind the counter.

It's "Wang Jianguo"! No, it's Chen Feng!

But how did he end up here?

Where are the square-faced guys?!

Fat San's heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and he suddenly sank downwards!

His entire body trembled violently from extreme shock! His mind went blank for a moment, as if it had just gone completely blank!

He realized almost immediately—Square Face and his team had failed!

Not only did they fail, but... things are probably looking grim!

And this jinx has come knocking on our door!

The immense fear was like ice water poured over his head, instantly waking Fatty from his dream of getting rich, replacing it with an overwhelming chill!

His face contorted violently with fat, and his once kind and even somewhat greasy smile had vanished, leaving only bulging veins and bloodshot eyes wide with extreme terror!

"You...you..."

Fatty San made a hoarse sound in his throat, as if he wanted to say something, but he was too scared to speak coherently.

He instinctively tried to shrink under the counter, but his obese body made him clumsy.

Chen Feng gave him no time to react.

He strode forward, his steps still composed, but each step felt like stepping on Fatty San's heart, which was on the verge of collapse.

"The fat boss,"

Chen Feng spoke, his voice coming through his sunglasses—deep, calm, yet carrying a chilling coldness that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Your 'friends' don't seem to be very useful."

These words were like a final death knell, completely shattering any remaining hope that Fatty Three might have.

He knew it was over!

Square Face and his ilk are definitely doomed!

This Chen Feng is even more terrifying than the legends say!

"Quickly! Someone come here!!"

Fatty San suddenly let out a heart-wrenching, distorted scream. His obese body burst forth with astonishing strength as he tumbled backward, frantically pounding on the wall behind the counter, where there was a hidden door leading to the backyard!

"Kill him!! Kill him!!!"

The small door on the side of the teahouse lobby, connecting the kitchen and the storeroom, was suddenly kicked open!

Seven or eight teahouse staff who were resting or on duty in the inner room heard Fatty San's scream, grabbed the tools at hand and rushed out!

These men were all thugs and henchmen of Fatty San, responsible for guarding the place and dealing with trouble. They all had blood on their hands.

The weapons they carried were a motley collection—there were heavy rolling pins and spatulas, sharpened boning knives and kitchen knives, and two of them were even holding the same old-fashioned sawed shotguns as the square-faced men!

Seeing that Chen Feng was the only one standing in the center of the lobby, the waiters' eyes flashed with ferocity. With a shout, they rushed forward in a chaotic manner!

The two men with shotguns tried to aim, but the lobby space wasn't very large, and the tables and chairs were in the way, so they couldn't find a good shooting angle for a while.

Chen Feng's expression remained unchanged as he faced seven or eight menacing thugs rushing towards him.

His gaze, cold and sharp, swept over the people rushing to the front, calculating the distance and angle.

Just as the first man wielding a machete rushed to within three meters of him, blade raised, a ferocious expression on his face—

Chen Feng made his move!

He swept his hands across his waist with such speed that he almost left a blur!

When he reappeared, he was holding a shiny black Type 54 pistol in each hand!

With two guns in hand, Chen Feng's aura suddenly changed!

From a composed passerby, he instantly transformed into a murderer descending upon the human world!

Without the slightest hesitation, he raised both arms and fired both guns simultaneously!

boom!boom!boom!boom!boom!

A crisp, deafening gunshot suddenly rang out in the cramped teahouse lobby!

Sparks flew from the muzzles of the two guns, and spent cartridges bounced merrily, clattering as they landed on the ground and on the tables and chairs!

The three thugs at the front, including the one with the knife, didn't have time to react effectively. They felt as if they had been hit hard in the chest or face by a heavy hammer. The pain was excruciating, and their bodies fell backward uncontrollably, their weapons flying out of their hands!

Blood mixed with other liquids splattered in a series of glaring red streaks along the path of their fall!

The moment the gunshot rang out, the thugs rushing in from behind froze!

They didn't expect their opponent to be so decisive and ruthless, and to use dual pistols!

Being shot at close range by a pistol has a tremendous visual and psychological impact!

But most of the people fattened up by Fatty San are ultimately desperate criminals.

After a brief moment of shock, the remaining four or five people, their eyes bloodshot, pounced on him even more frantically!

The two men with shotguns finally found the right angle, gritted their teeth, and pulled the trigger!

Boom! Boom!

The dull thud of the old-fashioned shotgun firing its pellets sent dust flying from the roof beams!

Countless iron pellets shot out in a fan shape, riddling the tables and chairs near where Chen Feng had been standing with holes, and sending wood chips flying everywhere!

But after firing the first round of shots, Chen Feng's body had already moved to the side and back like a ghost!

Most of the shotgun pellets hit empty air; only a few grains of iron grit grazed his leather jacket sleeves and trouser legs, causing a burning sting, but no real injury.

His eyes were icy cold; he had already instantly assessed the remaining ammunition in both guns while moving. The right gun's magazine was emptied!

Two bullets left in the left pistol!

Without the slightest pause, he flicked his right hand, and the empty-handed pistol slammed into the face of a thug who was charging at him wielding a steel pipe, just like a hammer!