People are scared in America, my uncle is Dante

The Rosss were furious at the state of the car and went to the hotel owner to demand an explanation.

Suren, however, appeared quite calm, pondering whether he had been too good-tempered lately.

So much so that even thugs dare to ride roughshod over him and provoke him.

He ignored the sports car he had found and turned to leave.

Sleipton is more of a large village than a town.

He quickly found the home of the young man who had led the group during the day.

In the bedroom on the second floor, the short-haired young man leaned against the headboard.

His arm, which had been broken during the day, was in a cast and hung across his chest, and his thigh was wrapped in thick bandages.

Despite his injury, he watched the DVD playing on TV with great interest, his body wriggling lewdly under the covers.

Just as he was breathing heavily and about to sprint, he subconsciously caught a glimpse of a dark figure by the window.

The short-haired youth felt a chill run down his spine and instantly deflated in fright.

"Bang!"

Suren kicked the glass and entered the room.

He stepped on the shards of glass and looked at the young man on the bed.

"You're physically disabled but have a strong will, but your taste in movies is just as bad as your courage."

The young man hurriedly pulled up his pants.

"Let me explain! The car isn't mine..."

He recalled the scene from earlier that day, and in fear, he shrank back into the corner, desperately begging for mercy.

Suren was too lazy to listen to his nonsense. She strode forward, grabbed his only intact arm, and squeezed it slightly.

"Click!"

"ah!!!"

The pain from the daytime injury hadn't subsided when his only remaining intact arm was also broken.

Heart-wrenching screams echoed through the sky, completely shattering the tranquility of the night.

The screams quickly attracted the parents downstairs.

"FUCK! What's all this noise about in the middle of the night?!"

The young man's father was an obese man.

He kicked open the door and started cursing without even checking what was inside.

"Are you asking for a beating again?!"

But when he saw the broken glass all over the ground and that his son's only remaining hand had been broken again, his eyes were filled with rage.

"Bastard! I'm going to kill you!"

The young man was in excruciating pain, breaking out in a cold sweat. Seeing his father appear, he suddenly felt emboldened: "Yes! Kill him! He's the one who injured me during the day!"

In his view, he only suffered a loss during the day because he underestimated his opponent and because the opponent was strong.

How could a man of his father's imposing physique be suppressed by a well-proportioned mixed-race boy?

The fat man roared and grabbed the baseball bat from behind the door, smashing it down hard on Suren's head.

Suren's eyes turned cold, magic enveloped his feet, and he kicked out.

The man's bulky body flew backward, crashing through the wall behind him and cracking the wall of the next room.

He was embedded in the wall, coughing up mouthfuls of blood mixed with pieces of internal organs, and it was clear he was not going to survive.

The mother, who was following behind the man, saw this bloody scene, screamed, and stumbled downstairs.

A moment later, a commotion came from downstairs.

The short-haired young woman's mother, who had just fled, returned.

A large group of menacing-looking residents followed behind, completely blocking the doorway.

These burly men were all armed, looking like they were there to interrogate him.

Suren's gaze swept over the group of menacing men, and she raised an eyebrow: "Are these all your lovers?"

These insulting words were like a slap across the young mother's face, making her chest heave violently with anger.

How did he know?!

Enraged by being hit where it hurt, the mother pointed at Suren, her voice shrill, and shouted, "What nonsense are you spouting, you madwoman?! What grudge does this child have against you? How could you be so cruel to him?!"

Suren ignored the woman's words and walked over to the short-haired young man huddled in the corner of the bed, looking at him.

"Why don't you talk to them yourself?"

The short-haired youth looked up at Suren's slightly reddened eyes and his teeth chattered in fright.

He stammered, his neck hunched, as he recounted how he had provoked people on the street during the day and how he had directed the vandalism of sports cars at night.

Upon hearing this, the young mother, without hesitation, retorted confidently, "It's a beat-up car! He's just a child!"

"Even if he really got into trouble, it's none of your business, an outsider, lecturing him!"

"Click!"

Suren stomped twice, shattering the young man's two kneecaps.

"ah!!"

The young man screamed in agony.

Suren smiled slightly at the crowd outside the door: "It's alright, I'm not going to kill him."

The young mother was heartbroken to see her son in such a terrible state.

Because of the brutal methods that Su Lun had just displayed, even though there were countless people standing behind her, she did not dare to step into the room.

But the men behind her, who were used to bullying others in this small town, couldn't stand the humiliation of being trampled on.

A burly man roughly pushed the woman aside and entered the room.

He raised his baseball bat: "What's the point of bullying a kid...?"

Before he could finish speaking, the burly man felt the world spin around him.

Suren grabbed him with one hand and slammed him hard onto the floor.

"So weak, yet trying to stand up for others?"

Seeing that the man was still angry, he threw another punch.

The punch pierced through the floor, and the man fell silent, half of his body sinking into the floor.

The previously crowded and noisy crowd outside the door instantly fell into dead silence.

The burly men who were shouting just a second ago now looked stiff.

This is a power that no ordinary person could possess.

Even worse, some were already quietly moving slowly toward the stairwell, trying to slip away.

Suren stood up straight, dusted off his hands, looked at the residents with different expressions outside the door, and said calmly, "It's alright. Everyone who comes into this house today, I will give them a gift."

The moment the words left his mouth, a pure darkness spread out from Suren, completely engulfing the entire house.

The lights went out, plunging the room into darkness, with only two crimson dots moving rapidly in the darkness, accompanied by the sounds of bones breaking and screams of agony.

As darkness faded, the room returned to its initial tranquility.

The once-fierce crowd was now completely collapsed in pools of blood.

The hallways and bedrooms were filled with people, their limbs twisted at various angles, some even intertwined and tied into a cute bow.

Suren did not kill anyone; that would have been illegal.

He simply abolished the four limbs of this group of people, and even their fifth limbs.

Killing them is far too cheap.

The greatest gift he could give was to deprive them of their mobility, leaving them forever bedridden, enduring endless humiliation and pain to eke out a living.

For the next few hours, Suren moved like a ghost among the houses in the town.

He explored the area and visited each of the other thugs who had participated in the daytime blockade.

In the dead of night, screams came from several houses in succession, but no one dared to help.

These unruly children, along with their parents, all had their limbs broken.

Since the parents failed to raise their child properly, they should honestly bear the consequences of the child's crime.

It was late at night when Suren finally returned to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

To his surprise, the Rosss were still awake.

The two of them, wrapped in coats, sat anxiously on the sofa in the living room, waiting for him.

Seeing Suren push open the door and enter, Ross quickly came forward to greet him: "Mr. Suren..."

She asked cautiously, "How did things go?"

Suren stopped, took out a thick wad of banknotes from his pocket, and casually waved them in his hand.

This is the cash he looted from these people's homes, probably tens of thousands of US dollars.

"After friendly negotiations, they realized their mistake and were willing to compensate me for my losses based on the depreciated value."

Suren put the banknotes away and nodded to the couple: "Get some rest."

After saying that, he walked upstairs, muttering to himself:

"A bunch of penniless bastards, they look powerful because of their numbers, but their cockroaches are almost starving to death in their house."