Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

"Even if we settle accounts?"

Scarface Liu, who was lying in the mud, suddenly coughed violently, his throat making a sawing sound like a broken bellows.

He frantically dug into the mud beneath him, forcibly lifting his blood-stained face. His eyes, filled with hatred, stared intently at Ma Hou, and he spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm mixed with pieces of internal organs directly onto Ma Hou's face.

"Even if we're even, my foot!"

Scarface Liu gritted his teeth, his voice sharp and venomous, as if polished on sandpaper: "You traitorous, heartless bastard, you dare to talk to me like that! As long as I'm still breathing down this mountain today, I'll find a chance to skin you alive, you little beast!"

Despite being spat on in the face with warm, bloody spittle, the monkey wasn't angry; instead, it grinned.

"Brother, don't get so angry."

Ma Hou shook his head feigning helplessness, saying, "Brother, I sincerely want to make peace with you, so why are you doing this?"

Scarface Liu glared with bloodshot eyes, veins bulging on his forehead, about to open his blood-soaked mouth and start cursing again.

But out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Old Scar's gaze.

Old Scar remained crouched behind Ma Hou, his hand gripping the shotgun and pressing it firmly against Ma Hou's forehead.

Those deathly gray eyes held no emotion whatsoever; they simply swept coldly over the gun barrel, looking down at Scarface Liu.

Even without saying a word, Scarface Liu felt a chill run down his spine.

He swallowed hard, forcing back all the profanities that were about to spill from his throat, and obediently shut his mouth, collapsing back into the stinking mud like a rotten piece of meat.

The entire old forest fell into a deathly silence.

Time passed by, second by second.

The white mist in the deep mountains swirled and rolled among the thick tree trunks, and the cold air seeped into people's bones little by little along the muddy ground.

The cold dew hanging on the red pine needles gathered into drops, which fell into the pool of blood on the ground with a soft pattering sound.

Ma Hou slumped in the mud, his head pressed hard against the cold gun barrel for a long time. His neck was stiff and sore, and the black blood flowing from his nose had congealed into dark red scabs on his chin.

The henchmen around him, holding homemade guns, were shivering from the cold, their heads covered in cold sweat. They kept shifting their stance, barely holding on by clinging to the thought of the money.

This stalemate, so tense you could hear a pin drop, was suffocating.

I don't know how much time has passed.

From the depths of the white fog ahead, a series of rapid snapping sounds of tree branches suddenly rang out.

"Smack, smack—"

The chaotic and heavy footsteps trudged through the mud, rushing toward the large blue stone.

"Monkey King! Monkey King!"

With heavy breathing, Big Head, along with two other henchmen who had come down the mountain to collect the money, burst out of the thick fog like madmen.

Big Head, who was running at the front, had a flushed face and his chest was heaving violently like a bellows.

He even threw away the homemade gun in his hand, and held his two muddy hands tightly to his chest.

He was tightly clutching a heavy black waterproof tarpaulin bag, the outside of which was still covered with fresh mud and rotten leaves.

"Got it!"

Big Head was so excited that his voice even changed color.

He rushed forward, taking three steps at a time, and held the heavy waterproof bag high in the air: "It's all in that abandoned bear den! Three hundred thousand in cash! And that big gold watch! It's all in this bag!"

Upon seeing the bulging black oilcloth bag, the air in the entire forest instantly became scorching hot.

The remaining four henchmen's eyes turned completely green, and they stared intently at the cloth bag in Big Head's arms, swallowing hard.

The monkey, whose forehead was being pressed firmly against the ground, was so excited that it forgot the excruciating pain in its nasal bone.

"well!"

The monkey grinned, its mouth splattered with blood and foam, and couldn't help but let out a wild, muffled laugh. In its lisping voice, it urged repeatedly, "Quick! Open it and let me see!"

Big Head was so excited that his hands were trembling.

He tucked the homemade gun into his waistband, then knelt on one knee in the mud, frantically trying to untie the knot in the oilcloth bag.

The other two henchmen also joined in, the three heads huddled together, panting heavily, their eyes fixed on the black waterproof tarpaulin.

"Splash—"

The oilcloth bundle was peeled back layer by layer.

Stacks of neatly stacked "Great Unity" banknotes, exuding the distinctive smell of banknote ink, were exposed without any concealment to the cold, damp air.

At the very top of those banknotes lay a gleaming solid gold Rolex.

The golden dial and bezel, set with South African diamonds, refracted a dazzling light in the lingering mist of the forest, like hooks that could steal one's soul.

"Gulp."

Big Head swallowed hard, grabbed a handful of banknotes, and then tremblingly touched the gold watch, his eyes reddening with excitement: "Brother Monkey...it's all real! Not a single penny less!"

Looking at the mountain of banknotes and the dazzling gold watch, Ma Hou's heart pounded wildly in his chest.

Three hundred thousand!

This enormous fortune was finally firmly in his pocket, and Ma Hou now had only one thought in his mind: to quickly take the money and get down the mountain safely.

In this desolate wilderness, the most important thing is to bring this huge sum of money back to the city safely. There's no need to risk a fight to the death with this desperate criminal behind us at this critical juncture.

"well!"

Suppressing his overwhelming joy, Ma Hou looked up at Old Scar and forced what he thought was his most sincere smile: "Brother Old Scar, I've seen the money! We're a man of our word, this debt is settled!"

He waved his hand magnanimously and yelled at the group of gleaming thugs around him, "Put your guns away! Make way for Old Scar Brother! Let them go down the mountain!"

The group of men exchanged glances, swallowed hard, lowered their gun barrels, and stepped back a few paces to make way for a narrow path leading down the mountain.

Ma Hou licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and shrugged casually: "Brother, the road is cleared. You can take my older brother and go. I won't see you off."

The gun barrel pressed against the monkey's forehead didn't move an inch.

Old Scar's deathly gray eyes swept over the henchmen on both sides who, though making way, still gripped their spears and daggers tightly, and he sneered.

"You've taken the money, and you've saved your life."

Old Scar pressed the muzzle of his gun down, his voice like a knife chilled to the bone: "But I'm a coward. In these deep mountains and forests, if I turn around and take a cripple down the mountain, and then your seven or eight guns can't help but fire, I won't even have a place to cry for justice."

Upon hearing this, Ma Hou's face stiffened.

He chuckled dryly twice, quickly adopting a wronged and aggrieved expression: "Brother Scarface, that's not fair! I, Ma Hou, may not be some saint, but I know the rule of doing things for money! I've already taken the money, there's no reason for me to risk my life fighting you guys! You don't trust me?"

Old Scar completely ignored him, his gaze passing over the gun barrel and landing directly on Scarface Liu, who was lying in the mud.

"Brother Liu."

Old Scar exhaled a breath of stale air, his voice carrying an undeniable air of command: "Get up. Confiscate all the long weapons they have. Keep one for self-defense, and smash the rest. Dump all the gunpowder and spent cartridges into the ditch. Then search them one by one, and remove all the daggers and short blades."

The monkey's pupils suddenly contracted.

Smash all the guns? In these deep mountains and forests, if we don't even have a stick left, what if these outsiders turn against us? Wouldn't we, with 300,000 yuan, become fat pigs to be slaughtered?

Veins bulged on his forehead instantly, and he stiffened his neck, gritting his teeth and roaring, "Old Scar! Don't push your luck! If we hand over all our guns, how will we save our lives? If you really want to fight to the death, shoot now!"

The gun barrel on his forehead suddenly thrust forward, the cold steel aimed straight at his vital point, forcefully silencing Ma Hou's remaining threats.

"Brother Monkey, if we want to part ways peacefully today, this is probably the only way."

Old Scar's thumb rested lightly on the hammer, his tone as calm as if he were chatting with an old acquaintance: "Too many weapons, easy to misfire. How about this, have your men leave one homemade gun to the side. Brother Liu takes one, you keep one. Smash the rest. If everyone is wary of each other, we can all go our separate ways with peace of mind."

Upon hearing this condition, the monkey's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

He felt the deadly chill on his forehead, then turned to look at the heavy bag of 300,000 yuan in cash in Big Head's arms. Although handing over most of his cards was unsettling, at least he still had a gun, which was some protection. The money was in his hands; once he got out of this forest, he had plenty of ways to recruit men and kill these two bastards. There was no need to gamble with his life now.

"Okay! We'll do as he says!"

Ma Hou steeled himself and roared at his men, "Big Head! Hold that sledgehammer tight! The rest of you, throw the hell on the ground!"

"Pooh!"

Scarface Liu spat out a mouthful of thick blood mixed with mud, his hands gripping the edge of the bluestone on the ground tightly.

Veins bulged on his forehead as he gritted his broken molars and, dragging his bloodied, mangled leg, slowly pulled himself out of the stinking mud.

Not a single word wasted.

Scarface Liu limped up to his henchmen. Big Head, holding his single-barreled homemade gun, took two steps back, sweating profusely, his gun barrel fixed on Scarface Liu.

Scarface Liu ignored him, bent down to pick up a double-barreled shotgun from the ground, gripped the cold barrel with both hands, swung his arm in a wide arc, and slammed the wooden stock hard against the edge of the large bluestone.

A crisp "snap" sounded.

The sturdy wooden support snapped instantly, splinters flying everywhere. Scarface Liu skillfully pulled out the gunpowder tube and dumped all the black powder and iron shot into the nearby puddles and mud.

One after another.

Scarface Liu, like a tireless vengeful demon, smashed all the homemade guns into scrap metal. He deliberately kept the best-quality five-shot rifle, carrying it on his shoulder. Then he turned around, dragging his broken leg, which left a long bloody gash on the ground, and walked up to each of the henchmen.

Big Head stood by with his gun, staring intently, while Scarface Liu rudely reached out and groped the waists and trouser legs of the other henchmen.

He acted extremely roughly, pulling out rusty pig-slaughtering knives, triangular scrapers, and iron spikes, and throwing them all into the muddy ditch that was more than half a meter deep.