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

Caught off guard, the thug's nose was broken by the blow, and he screamed as he fell backward!

At the same time, Chen Feng subtly adjusted the muzzle of his left hand and locked onto a shotgunner who had just fired a shot and was frantically reloading!

boom!boom!

Two bursts of fire, precisely hitting the shotgunner in the chest and abdomen!

The man's body jolted, and the hunting rifle and ammunition in his hand fell to the ground. He looked down in disbelief at his bleeding wound and collapsed to his knees.

Upon seeing this, the other shotgunner was terrified. He didn't even bother to reload the rifle. With a scream, he threw down his shotgun and turned to run into the kitchen!

Chen Feng would not allow him to escape!

His left pistol was empty. He swiftly holstered it back in its case, while simultaneously reaching behind his waist with his right hand—there lay a spare full magazine!

Pull out the magazine, reload, and chamber a round!

The movements were so fast they were dazzling. Just as the remaining two knife-wielding thugs rushed in and their blades were about to touch him, he completed the entire operation!

boom!boom!

Two more shots!

Almost at close range!

The bullets entered the two men's jaws or chests and exited from the back of their heads or vests, bringing with them a cloud of blood and bone fragments!

The two men remained frozen in their forward-charging, sword-wielding stances for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

From the moment Chen Feng drew his gun to the moment all seven or eight ruthless thugs fell into pools of blood, groaning or dying, the entire process took no more than fifteen seconds!

Inside the teahouse lobby, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood.

Tables and chairs were overturned, cups and plates were scattered everywhere, and the walls and floor were covered with bullet holes and splattered blood.

The sounds of wailing, dying groans, and the crackling of burning objects (a knocked-over oil lamp ignited the tablecloth) blended together, creating a scene reminiscent of hell on earth.

Chen Feng stood amidst the chaos, his two guns hanging down, wisps of smoke rising from their muzzles.

The black leather jacket was stained with a few drops of blood and dust, but the figure remained as upright as a pine tree.

Behind the sunglasses, his gaze swept past the corpses and wounded lying scattered on the ground, coldly landing behind the counter—where the hidden door was already open, and Fatty San's obese figure had long since vanished, leaving only a trail of hurried footprints and the lingering aura of fear in the air.

Fatty San ran away and escaped into the backyard.

But Chen Feng wasn't in a hurry.

He had long known that this "Fuhai Teahouse" was no ordinary place.

The front was a teahouse to cover up the truth, but the back was actually a semi-public "black shop" and temporary shelter, which specifically took in all sorts of people who had no legitimate identity or were even fugitives.

The reason why Fatty San has been able to establish himself here for so many years is because of his "loyalty" and "connections" that allow him to "connect with both the legitimate and criminal worlds".

He messed with the wrong people and now wants to hide behind those "tenants"?

A chilling smile curled at the corner of Chen Feng's lips.

Yeah.

That way he won't have to go looking for them one by one.

He bent down and quickly and skillfully picked up the still-usable sawed shotgun from beside the two bodies of the hunters on the ground. He checked it and found that there were still two shotgun shells in the magazine.

They also collected some loose bullets from the other corpses, mainly pistol bullets, and reloaded two Type 54 pistols.

Then, he picked up his hunting rifle, tucked both pistols back into his waistband, and strode over the pool of blood and corpses toward the open, hidden door.

Behind the door was a narrow, damp corridor leading to the back courtyard.

The sounds of people talking could be faintly heard from the front—clearly, the intense gunfight had alerted the "tenants" in the backyard.

Without the slightest hesitation, Chen Feng picked up his hunting rifle and walked into the corridor.

The corridor wasn't long, ending at a half-open wooden door. The noise was coming from behind that door.

"…Fatty Three! What happened? Is there an explosion up ahead?"

"Damn! Gunfire so loud! Are the cops here?"

"Fat Three, you fucking talk to me! Who did this?"

"Fatty, Fatty Third Brother, why is your face so pale? Have you seen a ghost?"

Fatty San's voice, still shaken and trembling with tears, rang out: "Brothers! Grab your weapons! A tough nut's coming up ahead! The kiln-smashing bastards! Square Face and the others... they're probably all dead! Seven or eight of our men couldn't hold them off! They've already reached the rear!"

A brief silence.

Then came an even more chaotic and violent uproar!

"What?! Square Face lost?"

"Who the hell has the nerve to attack us like this?"

"Kill him!"

"Grab your weapons! Whoever they are, they're not leaving here!"

Those living in the backyard were all lawless, bloodthirsty desperados, fugitives, and ruthless characters. Hearing that someone dared to come knocking, not only killing Fatty Three's men but also threatening their "safe haven," they were immediately enraged! Saving face was one thing, but more importantly, if their place was exposed, they wouldn't escape unscathed!

"Fat Three, tell me! How many people are on the other side? Who are they?" a gruff voice cut through the noise.

"Just...just one person!" Fatty's voice was choked with sobs and incredulous fear. "But...but his marksmanship was fucking accurate! Dual pistols! In the blink of an eye..."

"A person?!" A commotion erupted in the courtyard, followed by an even more violent roar!

"One person and you're all this scared? Useless!"

"Who cares who it is! Let him never leave alive!"

"Grab your weapons! Let's get him!"

Immediately afterwards, a chaotic chorus of footsteps, the clanging of weapons, and the click of bolts being pulled back filled the courtyard! These desperados were indeed armed, though of a mixed bag—old rifles, homemade gunpowder guns, pistols, and even bayonets and machetes—but there were quite a few of them. Judging from the sounds, at least a dozen people were rushing toward the front corridor!

Chen Feng stood behind the wooden door at the end of the corridor, listening to the rapidly approaching, noisy footsteps and fierce curses, his face expressionless.

He slowly raised the hunting rifle in his hand, aiming the muzzle at the wooden door.

Then, he took a deep breath and kicked open the half-closed wooden door!

The wooden door suddenly swung open!

The scene behind the door came into view—a small, square courtyard, now crowded with about fifteen or sixteen people, all with fierce faces and weapons in their hands, rushing chaotically toward the corridor! Fat San's obese figure hid at the very back of the crowd, his face as pale as paper.

When they saw Chen Feng suddenly appear, and with a gun in hand, the people at the front were clearly taken aback, and their steps slowed down instinctively.

But Chen Feng didn't give them any time to react.

The moment the door opened, in that instant when the other person hesitated for a split second because of his appearance—

He pulled the trigger of the shotgun!

boom!!!!

A deafening gunshot rang out at the narrow entrance to the courtyard! A large plume of scorching iron shot sprayed out in a fan shape, raining down on the four or five people at the front!

"ah--!"

A series of piercing screams rang out! The men at the forefront were hit squarely by the sudden, wide-area shot! Their faces, chests, and arms were instantly mangled and bloody; they screamed and fell backward, dropping their weapons! The shot pellets crackled and popped against the bodies of those behind them and against the walls!