Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

A three-meter-high heavy wrought iron gate appeared at the end of the field of vision.

He slammed his right foot on the accelerator pedal, and the engine roared like a beast.

The two-ton vehicle, propelled by immense inertia, crashed straight into the iron gate.

The two doors were torn apart in the middle, flipped inwards, and crashed onto the lawn in the front yard.

The SUV crashed into the front yard, and Jiang Fan slammed on the brakes.

The tires left two black tracks on the ground, and the air smelled of burning rubber.

The four patrolling bodyguards inside the compound were stunned and stood frozen in place.

But after all, they had received professional training, and after only a second of hesitation, their hands were already reaching for their lower backs.

The driver's side door popped open, and Jiang Fan stepped out of the car.

The bodyguard who was closest to him had just drawn his baton when Jiang Fan rushed in front of him.

He reached out with his left hand, grabbed the inside of the other person's wrist with his five fingers, and twisted it forcefully.

The bodyguard felt numb on one side of his body, and his fingers loosened.

The moment the baton fell, Jiang Fan caught it with his right hand, and swung the steel baton horizontally, striking the bodyguard on the outside of his knee joint.

The bodyguard screamed and fell to the ground, rolling on the lawn while clutching his right leg.

The remaining three drew their weapons and surrounded the area in a triangular formation.

The three attackers' attack trajectories were a beat slower in Jiang Fan's eyes.

He sidestepped the frontal blow, and at the same time, his baton struck the bodyguard in front of him precisely on the head.

The man's eyes glazed over, his legs buckled, and he knelt down, blood gushing from his hairline.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Jiang Fan didn't turn around, but kicked his left foot backward, hitting the person in the lower abdomen.

He then spun around and swept the third person's ribs with his stick.

The two men were sent flying almost simultaneously, crashing into the stone edge of the flower bed and falling silent.

Jiang Fan flicked the blood off the tip of the stick and strode toward the main entrance of the villa.

He raised his right leg and kicked the door lock.

The heavy solid wood door was kicked open, and the door panel bounced inward.

The six bodyguards in the living room were rushing out when they bumped into Jiang Fan.

The moment the lead bodyguard saw Jiang Fan, he didn't waste any words and swung his machete straight at his face.

Jiang Fan didn't retreat; instead, he took half a step forward.

The baton is held upright and wedged between the wrist and forearm of the opponent's knife-wielding hand, then twisted in one smooth motion.

The machete landed directly on the ground.

Jiang Fan grabbed the back of the other person's head with his left hand and pressed down hard.

The sound of his knee striking and his nose breaking echoed in the living room.

Jiang Fan weaved through the crowd, each blow striking a vital spot on several people.

In less than thirty seconds, six bodies lay sprawled on the living room floor.

Some were clutching their broken joints and wailing, while others remained motionless.

Jiang Fan stood in the center, his chest heaving a few times before quickly calming down.

His gaze swept past the mess on the floor and landed on the solid wood dining table.

Zhang Yihan lay face down on the blood-stained carpet, her clothes torn, her face swollen and disfigured, unrecognizable.

She struggled to open her swollen eyes a crack, her gaze fixed on Jiang Fan. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Her nerves, stretched taut all day, snapped. She closed her eyes and passed out.

Jiang Fan turned his head and walked towards Qin Wanhao.

Qin Wanhao huddled in the corner of the sofa, pulled a black pistol from under the cushion with his right hand, and aimed it at Jiang Fan.

"Don't come any closer," Qin Wanhao said, his voice trembling. "Hand over the ledgers. Or I'll shoot you dead."

Jiang Fan stopped in his tracks; the muzzle of the gun was less than four meters away from him.

At that distance, he wasn't sure he could outrun a bullet.

"Okay. Here, take the ledger."

Jiang Fan raised his left hand and slowly reached into his robes.

Qin Wanhao was pleasantly surprised, his gaze following the movement of the other man's hand.

It was in that very moment.

Jiang Fan exerted force with his wrist, and the steel baton flew out of his hand, a silver afterimage striking Qin Wanhao's right wrist.

Qin Wanhao screamed, his fingers loosened, and the pistol fell onto the carpet.

He clutched his limp, hanging right wrist, the pain causing his knees to buckle and he collapsed to his knees.

Jiang Fan walked over, bent down to pick up the pistol, ejected the magazine, and casually tossed it aside.

He pulled over a perfectly good chair and sat down, looking at Qin Wanhao kneeling before him.

"Tell me. What exactly is that piece of land in Songjiang used for?"

Qin Wanhao was in so much pain that he was covered in sweat, but he gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

"You don't have to tell me." Jiang Fan leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, what's in the ledger is enough to put you in jail for twenty years."

Qin Wanhao raised his head, his eyes bloodshot.

"Just hand over the ledgers, and you can have as much money as you want—"

"What if I wanted the entire Universal Entertainment?"

Qin Wanhao was stunned.

"You...you can't swallow Global." Qin Wanhao panted heavily, "And the people behind me are people you can't afford to offend."

Jiang Fan didn't waste any more words. He stood up and walked to the dining table.

He took off his black trench coat, covered Zhang Yihan with it, and bent down to pick her up.

I paused for a moment as I passed Qin Wanhao.

"Have the person behind you come find me."

After saying that, he walked straight out of the villa.

The SUV engine restarted, and the vehicle drove out of the wrecked iron gate, disappearing into the night along the winding mountain road.

In the back seat, Zhang Yihan, wrapped in a trench coat, regained some consciousness amidst the bumpy ride.

She opened her right eye and looked at the man's profile in the driver's seat.

"Jiang Fan..."

His voice was so dry it was almost inaudible.

"Don't speak." Jiang Fan gripped the steering wheel with one hand, looking straight ahead. "You're safe."

Zhang Yihan closed her eyes, and a tear slid down from the swollen corner of her eye, disappearing into the collar of her trench coat.

The car drove into the city and arrived at an empty apartment under Tang Yingxue's name.

Jiang Fan carried Zhang Yihan into the master bedroom and laid her flat on the bed.

Tang Yingxue stood by the bed, looking at Zhang Yihan's miserable state, and gasped.

Having been in the entertainment industry for many years, she is accustomed to the tactics of competing for resources.

But this scene of beating someone to death was beyond her comprehension.

Jiang Fan had Tang Yingxue contact a reliable private doctor.

Half an hour later, the doctor arrived with his medical kit.

The examination revealed two fractured ribs, extensive bruising all over the body, and minor internal organ damage.

Although there is no danger to his life, he will need at least six months of rest.

The doctor gave Zhang Yihan an IV drip, prescribed medicine, and left with his suitcase.

-

A villa in the western suburbs. The living room reeked of blood.

Qin Wanhao knelt on the carpet, his right wrist hanging limply at his sides, and used his left hand to take out his phone from his pocket.

Press a number that has no name or comments.

The phone rang five times before being answered.

"Miss Gu," Qin Wanhao said, his voice dry.

"Did you get the ledger back?" The voice on the other end of the phone remained cold and indifferent, without any emotional fluctuation.

Qin Wanhao closed his eyes.

"no."

The other side quieted down.

Qin Wanhao held his breath, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and dripping onto the carpet.

"He left a message. He said he wanted the entire Universal Entertainment."

Qin Wanhao swallowed hard.

"And I'll ask you... to go find him."

ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

"What's his name?"

"Jiang Fan," Qin Wanhao replied, "the owner of Fanyin Studio, who started out in music. He's in his twenties and a newcomer who just emerged this year."

"Fanyin Studio." The person on the other end of the phone repeated those five words before hanging up.

Qin Wanhao collapsed onto the carpet, staring at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

-

Higashiyama Golf Villa District, Kyoto.

The woman in the plain-colored cheongsam put down her phone.

She was still holding the small pair of bonsai pruning shears in her hand; her nails were neatly trimmed, and her knuckles were slender and fair.

"Jiang Fan," she murmured the name.

A newcomer to music dared to storm a villa in the western suburbs all by himself and even take down more than a dozen professional bodyguards.

She waved to her assistant beside her.

"Go and look up information about this Jiang Fan. The more detailed the better."

The assistant bowed his head in acknowledgment and left the tea room.

Miss Gu picked up the blue and white porcelain teacup on the table and stirred the floating tea leaves.

Interestingly, Jiang Fan not only took the account book, but also dared to provoke them.

She took a small sip of tea.

Qin Wanhao is now a useless pawn.

If Jiang Fan truly has the strength to take over Global, then cooperating with someone else wouldn't be out of the question.

The prerequisite is that he has to survive to the negotiating table.