Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

Chapter 329 Nobody Knows

With a force of nearly 400,000 jin, he swung it out with one hand, still holding back 90% of his strength.

If you really go all out, it won't just break a single tree.

Naga stared at the severed tree and couldn't help but swallow.

He had always known that Chen Mo was very strong, but today's game made him realize that the "strength" he had previously perceived was nothing compared to what he had actually achieved.

Ghost raised his hand to straighten his tie, which was actually perfectly straight; he was just subconsciously suppressing his shock.

Whitman and Coleman took a while to recover.

Coleman turned pale.

"A monster...! This guy is definitely a monster!"

"Is Chinese Kung Fu really that terrifying?"

Whitman did not respond.

He took a deep breath, glanced at the row of bodyguards behind him, and only felt slightly more at ease when he saw the guns at their waists.

So what if he's a great fighter?

A dozen or so people, a dozen or so guns.

No matter how skilled you are in kung fu, can you be more powerful than a bullet?

Thinking of this, Whitman straightened up again and sneered:

"So what if you're a master of kung fu? Is a gun more powerful?"

Chen Mo completely ignored him, casually tossed the golf club to Ghost, took out a cigarette, lit it, and slowly took a puff before looking up at the four bodyguards who had just approached:

"Who tried to break my arms and legs just now?"

None of the four bodyguards dared to make a move.

We looked at each other, and instinctively reached for the gun at our waists, our whole bodies tensing up.

Naga and Ghost simultaneously drew their guns, standing on either side of Chen Mo behind him.

"Idiots! All of them are idiots!"

Whitman was furious.

"Use guns! Use guns directly!"

The four bodyguards gritted their teeth and drew their guns.

The dozen or so people behind him immediately drew their guns.

A row of dark gun barrels were all pointed at Chen Mo.

Whitman instantly regained her confidence, straightened her suit, and let out a cold laugh:

"So what if you know kung fu, kid?"

"Is your kung fu faster than a bullet?"

"Transfer the money to this account obediently, and I might spare your life."

Coleman immediately raised his hand in acknowledgment.

Someone jogged over and placed a laptop on the table.

The transfer interface was already prepared.

Coleman tapped on the table.

"The account is right on the screen. Just follow the instructions and make sure not a single zero is missing."

"You have ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight..."

All the bodyguards had their fingers on the trigger, waiting to count to one.

Naga and the ghost gripped their guns tightly.

"Four, three, two..."

Just when the atmosphere was at its most tense, a cell phone rang, breaking the standoff.

Everyone was stunned.

Ghost glanced at the incoming call, answered it, listened for a couple of sentences, and then hung up, bowing slightly to Chen Mo.

"Boss, the formalities are complete. From now on, this stadium is yours."

"Once the money is in place, they get things done very quickly."

Chen Mo nodded and exhaled a puff of smoke:

"A bunch of self-righteous idiots."

"Giving you more time will be a waste of time."

Whitman was instantly enraged and roared:

"You really think we wouldn't dare kill you?! Shoot! Break his leg first!"

Chen Mo threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out.

At the same time, Ghost slowly walked over, closed the laptop, and put it aside.

Naga also put away his gun.

Whitman's heart skipped a beat.

What are these two doing?

The answer was revealed the next second.

Everyone had just seen Chen Mo stomp out his cigarette.

In the blink of an eye.

Those four bodyguards have vanished without a trace.

Bang bang bang!

Four human-shaped holes appeared in the wall, the wall plaster cracked, and four people slid down the wall and remained motionless.

Everyone blinked again.

The bodyguards behind him fell down in droves.

No one could see the movement clearly; they could only see a blur, hear muffled thuds, and hear increasingly shorter screams.

One bodyguard had only raised his gun halfway when his wrist snapped, sending him flying sideways.

Some people were so frightened that they started firing indiscriminately.

It's impossible to hit it.

Before the gun could even be aimed, the person had already disappeared.

"Fuck!"

"Jesus! God!"

Coleman's voice cracked, and his face was filled with terror.

Whitman turned to run, but her legs gave way and she fell back onto the chair.

The ghost stood to the side and whistled:

"I told you, we're completely unnecessary."

In less than a minute, all gunfire completely ceased.

All the bodyguards on the field were lying on the ground; not one of them was standing.

As the wind blew, the smell of blood slowly spread.

The little flags on the sidelines were still waving gently.

Chen Mo was completely clean, without a drop of blood on him.

He took out another cigarette, lit it, and slowly walked towards the two of them.

Not far away, Ghost had already taken out his phone and was making a low call to arrange for someone to come and clean up the scene.

Whitman and Coleman collapsed to the ground, their trouser legs soaked, terrified and incontinent.

Chen Mo walked up to Whitman, stepped on his chest, and rubbed his foot against the sole of his expensive suit shoes.

Whitman was shaking uncontrollably.

Chen Mo bent down and exhaled a puff of smoke:

"You just said that this stadium is your own territory, and that if you kill me, no one will know."

"Unfortunately, this is my territory now."

"I killed both of you on my own turf, and nobody should know, right?"

"No! Don't kill me!"

Whitman trembled violently.

"Let's talk this out! We'll give you whatever you want!"

"Yes! Yes!"

Coleman nodded frantically.

"Money! Freezing order! The workers' issues! We'll handle it immediately!"

He suddenly seemed to have grasped at a straw, pointing at Whitman and shouting:

"It was all his idea! He signed the freezing order! It has nothing to do with me!"

Whitman turned sharply: "Marcus!"

Watching the two men bicker like dogs, Chen Mo withdrew his foot and said coldly:

"Then do it right in front of me."

The two scrambled to their feet and pulled out their phones.

Whitman was calling his subordinate when his hands trembled so badly that he dialed the wrong number twice.

"Release that villa immediately! Immediately! Now! Right now!"

The person on the other end of the phone was stunned:

"Governor? Why does your voice sound like that...?"

"Do as I say right now, you bastard!"

Coleman was even more decisive, signing the worker release order on the spot, taking a photo and issuing it, and then calling three times to confirm it.

Chen Mo reminded him.

"I also want compensation for emotional distress, ten billion US dollars."

The two men's faces turned deathly pale instantly.

They simply couldn't come up with this money; they didn't have it privately, nor in their public accounts.

But seeing the bodyguards lying on the ground, no one dared to utter a single word of dissent.

"We...we'll put together the money right away!"

Whitman's voice trembled.

The two people knelt on the ground and made phone calls one by one.

Call the financiers, call the banks, call anyone who can lend you money.

When a client questioned the delays over the phone, Whitman yelled back:

"Shut up if you don't want to die, and send the money right now!"

The ghost took the laptop back and reopened it: