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

I don't know how much time has passed.

The violent metallic roar overhead finally came to an abrupt end.

With a crisp metallic click of the empty bin being shut down, an even more suffocating silence enveloped the entire scrap yard once more.

Scarface Liu huddled in the deepest shadow of the scrap metal rack, covering his mouth like a dying rat, not daring to even breathe.

Only after confirming that there was no further movement outside did he shakily peek out, his neck twitching.

What lay before him was a complete hell on earth.

Wang Biao's mountain of flesh had completely collapsed into a puddle of mud, his mink coat soaked with blood, lying heavily on the ground.

The headless remains of the dragon lay to one side, and the remaining thugs were left with nothing but their limbs, broken arms, intestines, and bits of flesh scattered haphazardly everywhere.

The flowing blood pooled together, and the strong, pungent smell of blood assaulted the senses, making one's stomach churn.

Scarface Liu's throat tightened, and he could no longer suppress the nausea. He turned his head and vomited with a "whoosh" sound, vomiting up his stomach acid and bile into the muddy water full of coal ash.

Tears and snot smeared his face as he stared intently at the scattered shell casings on the ground, his mind a complete mess.

What exactly happened?

Wasn't the person who fired from the high ground Old Scar?

That old guy clearly came to save me, so why was he also swept away and killed?

Besides, they had clearly planned to wait until Da Long and his men brought back Ma Hou and the 300,000 yuan in cash, and then strike decisively once they had both the man and the money. How come Old Scar abandoned his own safety and suddenly opened fire without warning just as Da Long was about to set off?

A chilling thought exploded in his mind.

That bastard was plotting against him from the very beginning! Scarface wanted to wipe out all these people chasing him, then take advantage of the chaos to steal the money along with them, using Scarface Liu as bait to shield him from the bullets!

A deep resentment and the rage of betrayal gripped his heart.

That beast!

Scarface Liu was so angry that he trembled all over, his back teeth clenched so hard that they made a grimacing sound, and even his gums were forced to exude a strong, metallic taste of blood.

But he knew better than anyone that now was not the time to curse and settle scores.

No matter what crazy thing that lunatic up there is thinking, once that mad dog with a gun gets down from the shelf to clear the area and finish him off, he'll be completely finished in this mud today.

We must leave immediately!

Scarface Liu bit his purplish lips hard, his hands gripping the rusty iron pillar beside him like iron pincers. With a fierce will to survive, he struggled to get up and run away.

But just as he was halfway up, the right side of his body suddenly went limp without warning.

Only at this moment did my dulled nerves regain control of my brain, and a sharp, piercing pain suddenly tore through my right leg and shoulder.

He didn't know when the stray bullets had silently pierced his flesh.

He lowered his head and stared blankly at his own body.

The tattered cotton-padded jacket on his right thigh was completely blown off, revealing a bloody hole the size of a walnut, from which thick, black blood was gushing out.

My right leg is now like a piece of scrap wood hanging on my hip bone, and I can't even put any strength into my toes.

Can't run away.

The moment I fully grasped this reality, the resentment, fear, and anger that had been churning in my mind vanished completely, like mud that had been drained of its moisture.

Scarface Liu, on the contrary, felt a strange calm.

He knew perfectly well that he was going to die here today.

Even if that madman suddenly had a change of heart and stopped, he would definitely not survive the night with the bloody hole in his thigh that was constantly gushing black blood, in this desolate wilderness.

Since we're going to die anyway, why bother making a fuss?

Scarface Liu exhaled a long breath of foul air mixed with the smell of blood, and his whole body deflated like a punctured balloon.

He loosened his grip on the frozen ground, dragged his numb, crippled leg, and slowly moved his body to the rusty iron pillar, where he leaned against it securely.

With a soft scraping sound, he groped around in the pocket of his tattered cotton-padded jacket for a long time, his right hand trembling and covered in blood and mud, before pulling out half a pack of crushed cigarettes and a box of matches.

"Snap."

A faint light shone in the cold wind, illuminating his deathly pale face.

Scarface Liu took a deep drag on his cigarette, the pungent smoke mixed with the taste of cheap tobacco filling his lungs and barely suppressing the bloody taste in his throat.

He exhaled a long puff of blue smoke, his gaze sweeping over the scattered pieces of flesh and corpses in the empty junkyard.

The woman Wang Biao had dragged over in a sack, whose voice had been poisoned and rendered hoarse, was none other than his ex-wife Song Honglan, who had cheated on him with a cuckold on their own kang (heated brick bed). She was lying like a lump of mud next to a pile of scrap metal not far away.

She was completely still; it was unclear whether she had been killed by stray bullets or had simply fainted from fright.

Upon discovering this, Scarface Liu suddenly felt an absurd sense of powerlessness.

If it were half an hour ago, he would have crawled over there even if he had to bite the ground with his teeth, and he would have skinned that bitch alive with his own hands.

But now, he didn't even have the strength to look at her again, let alone check whether she was dead or alive.

Whether he's dead or alive, this mess can never be completely cleaned up today.

Scarface Liu shook his head resignedly, let out a long sigh, and completely withdrew his gaze.

"Plop, plop."

A series of unhurried footsteps suddenly rang out from the other end of the open space.

The hard soles of the shoes clashed against the brass cartridge cases scattered on the ground, the crisp metallic clanging sound particularly jarring in the deathly still night.

Scarface Liu leaned against the iron pillar, smoking a cigarette, without even trying to dodge.

He slowly lifted his heavy eyelids, his gaze passing through the rusty iron frame, calmly looking into the darkness outside.

Just then, the pale moonlight pierced through the thin clouds and poured down unhindered onto the blood-stained junkyard.

A tall, dark figure emerged from the thick darkness and strode toward him.

The newcomer was holding the Type 56 rifle, whose barrel was still slightly hot, upside down with one hand, and a long bolt-action rifle was slung diagonally across his broad back.

Accompanied by the piercing sound of metal footsteps, the person drew closer and closer.

Scarface Liu still had half a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

He ripped the skin off his face, just about to reveal a cold, detached smirk, ready to mock Old Scar's ugly, double-crossing face.

But the moment the moonlight shone unhindered onto the man's face, the smile on Scarface Liu's lips froze.

A tremendous sense of horror and desperate fear surged into his chest like a burst dam, shattering his feigned calm into nothingness.

Scarface Liu's blood-stained face twitched violently, his features squeezed together, his resigned expression completely twisted into a ferocious and terrifying one.

His hands gripped the iron pillar behind him so tightly they seemed to cramp, his fingernails scraping the metal with a grating sound. It felt as if a rusty piece of metal was stuck deep in his throat, forcing out a shrill, piercing roar: "Zhao Shanhe! How the hell is it you?!"