Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

As a fellow martial artist, he had a strong premonition... He was just a hair's breadth away from death; if he had faced him head-on, his life would probably have been over.

"Such a well-rounded and comprehensive Qigong technique... is probably not wrong..."

He examined the cross-section of the display case; it was quite neat, as if this massive object, weighing over ten kilograms, was made of paper and had been cut in half.

……

"Tick!"

"Tick!"

An old clock ticked on the wall.

"Sir?" the yellow-toothed man couldn't help but ask, looking into the wide-open side door, "How's the situation?"

No one answered.

The darkness at the entrance of the stairwell seemed to materialize, surging forth and threatening to engulf him.

He gritted his teeth, picked up a revolver, loaded it, and cautiously approached. The moment he stepped through the door, he gasped at the sight before him!

Dead body.

This was unusual; all the corpses had died from a single punch—the fist struck their hearts, the explosive force carrying a powerful rotational force that shredded a portion of their muscles. Their chests were caved in, their backs bulged, blood flowed from their seven orifices, their faces were a purplish-blue, liver-colored hue, and their eyes bulged out—a truly gruesome sight!

"The Lost Track Fist...?"

He wasn't sure either, but he continued up to the second floor. As the number of corpses increased, his fear grew stronger.

Because, in the few minutes he had been waiting, he hadn't heard a single sound from the first floor.

……

Second floor. Secret casino.

The chips on the gambling table were scattered all over the floor, and several people were sprawled haphazardly on the table, chairs, and floor, while another was hanging from the ceiling with his legs dangling. All the cash had been looted, and the safe had been opened; not a single cent remained.

The windows were wide open, leading to the brightly lit metropolis under the vast night sky.

Chapter 224: What a fast sword!

That night, sirens blared, waking the entire city of San Quintak from its slumber.

Shouts, whistles, and the crisp sound of horses' hooves galloping on the cobblestone streets echoed through the city.

"So, you mean you let him loot this place and run away without a care in the world?" The tall man in the white suit, a red rose pinned to his breast pocket, squinted at the yellow-toothed man before him, his eyes filled with an indescribable disgust. "Don't tell me..."

“That’s right, that’s it.” The yellow-toothed man, no longer flustered, nodded directly and said, “He’s gone.”

The tall man in the white suit frowned in disgust, rubbed the wall with the tip of his shoe, and said coldly, "You can explain it to Mr. Angelo like that and see if he'll peel off your yellow skin."

“Maybe he’ll reward me even more,” the yellow-toothed man said confidently. “After he’s listened to my whole story in detail.”

“It sounds like your head isn’t quite clear anymore,” Carlo said sarcastically. “Do you think the Italian smiles at everyone he meets because he’s kind? Huge losses, and so many guests losing their lives on our turf, he won’t listen to your arguments, he’ll just throw you into the crocodile pool in the backyard.”

"Maybe only the sight of you splashing and struggling in the pool can make him laugh."

Yellow-toothed Man listened to his words without fear or anger, and simply said slowly, "What if I told you that you could make a lot of money from this guy?"

Carlo stopped in his tracks.

It was already past midnight, about an hour and a half since Zhang Renfeng broke in and robbed the second-floor casino of all its money. Angelo had naturally learned of this and was furious. Rumor had it that another unlucky fellow had been thrown into the crocodile pit for saying the wrong thing.

The entire city of San Quintak was thrown into chaos, with sheriffs and mounted police forced to work overtime in the middle of the night. Meanwhile, the man in charge of guarding the casino, Yellow Tooth, was summoned by Angelo's henchman Carlo and taken to one of his mansions to explain in person everything that had happened that night.

What he just said bothered Carlo.

"What do you mean? You know that robber?" Carlo keenly sensed a business opportunity. "Is he a wanted criminal?"

“Perhaps so, but this country is far from realizing its danger.” Huang Ya Lao Lai Shang smiled slightly. “A few months before I came, a shocking case occurred in my hometown… called the ‘Horse Attack Case’.”

"A high-ranking official was crushed to death on the street by a birch tree that flew through the air, along with his horse. Afterwards, his entire family of seven was also killed in their own mansion. From the highest levels of government to the common people, almost everyone knew about it. It is said that the murderer was skilled in martial arts and possessed immense strength. He was a young general in the army... After the incident, he fled overseas by ship and has not been caught to this day."

"The imperial court has offered 107 million taels of silver as a reward for his head!"

"How much?" Carlo was a little confused by the number. "One million seven... ten thousand?"

"Ten thousand!" the yellow-toothed man laughed. "I don't know how much that is in US dollars, but it's definitely more than this casino earns in a week."

Just then, a figure dressed in a black robe and wearing a hood strolled over from the other end of the alley, walking with the gait of a drunkard.

Carlo wanted to avoid it with great disgust, but the drunkard suddenly lurched and bumped into his shoulder.

"Get lost!" Carlo shoved him aside in a huff, looked at his smooth shoes, and snapped, "Or I'll shoot you."

"Ah...ah..."

The drunkard shook his head, struggled to his feet while leaning against the wall, and left.

"So... are you sure it's him?" Carlo was still somewhat doubtful.

"No, that level of skill is extremely rare in the world, and very few people can master it. Moreover, this is overseas, and there are not many people like us, so it's impossible for us to make a mistake."

"it's him!"

The man with yellow teeth seemed to be already fantasizing about how he would spend this huge sum of money, a slight smile playing on his lips.

They had agreed to act as an inside man, precisely to lure this big fish into a false sense of security. When the time was right, they would use any means necessary—hooks, nets, even explosives—to blast this big fish up! For Mr. Angelo, any idea that could make money and had the potential to be monetized was welcome.

Admittedly, accomplishing this would be quite difficult, but the staggering figure of 1.07 million is enough to make Angelo take the risk.

“That’s the difference between you and me, Mr. Carlo. You can only see the immediate gains and losses, while I have a broader and more comprehensive view; I see the overall outcome!”

"He was indeed a gang leader, but he was also a businessman, and a rather shrewd one at that. He couldn't possibly remain indifferent to such a large sum of money."

"Even if there's no way to monetize it for the time being, as long as I know the whole story, I'll definitely be able to stall him as much as possible. That way, I'll become a double agent, and once it's done, even if I only get a small share, I should still have at least this much."

He made a gleeful gesture, but then suddenly realized something was amiss. Carlo seemed to have been silent for a long time. He simply walked quietly beside him, like a soulless walking corpse.

"Mr. Carlo?"

"..."

Turn around.

In the dim light, Carlo's expression was stiff. He only turned his head slowly when he heard him call his name. This turn startled the yellow-toothed man.

Blood silently oozed from every orifice on his face, from his mouth, nose, and eyes.

"what……"

Carlo opened his mouth slightly, as if to say something, but in the end only some breathy sounds came out. He raised his hand, wanting to touch his face, but the moment his fingers touched his cheek, a bloody mark appeared on his neck.

The head rolled down and landed at the feet of the yellow-toothed man.

……

……

……

From heaven to hell, it only takes a few short seconds.

Yellow-toothed Man's pupils widened instantly, a chill surged up from the soles of his feet, straight to his head, making the hairs on his body stand on end.

Turning his head again, the man in black was no longer the staggering, drunkard he once was. He stood straight at the other end of the alley, casting an extremely cold gaze at him. The light and shadow shifted, and his shadow stretched long in the alley, like a ferocious beast about to devour him whole.

"No...it's impossible...how could this happen?!"

Yellow-toothed Man couldn't believe it. The facts were right in front of him: the only one who had come into contact with Carlo in the alley was that drunkard. The instant they made contact, he struck with his sword, but the strike was so fast that not only did he not see it, but even Carlo didn't feel it.

In that instant, he was already dead, but he didn't even realize it.

"A master, a master!"

With just one glance, the yellow-toothed man knew he couldn't possibly win, and escape was practically impossible. His only chance of survival was to quickly surrender, so he raised his hands in surrender, saying, "I don't know where I offended you, sir. I deserve to die. I beg you, sir, to have mercy and spare my life. I promise..."

"Clang—!!"

The man spread his right hand and reached out to grab the air. Suddenly, a green-edged sword appeared out of nowhere, its cold light gleaming as if he were holding the arc of a full moon in his hand.

In the eyes of the yellow-toothed man, the crescent moon suddenly disappeared for a moment, and then, along with a corner of the dark black robe, it stabbed straight toward his neck!

A cold wind blew.

His pupils dilated instantly, and he lowered his head slightly, still in a pleading posture, but he was already dumbfounded.

The person was already behind him.

"So...so fast...the sword..."

He uttered a final sigh, then everything went black, and he collapsed.

Chapter 225: A Good Horse Needs a Good Saddle

Once you start, you'll start again. After several exchanges with Angelo from afar, Zhang Renfeng had a pretty good grasp of his personality.

The phrase "heart of a snake and a scorpion" is not an exaggeration at all.

To maintain the gang's external deterrent power, they could burn two innocent people to death without hesitation. Judging from this smooth operation, they've probably done this countless times before. He controls the entire city's mouthpiece, and ordinary people are probably completely unaware of this level of evil.

The raid tonight failed, resulting in heavy losses. This news must have reached his ears by now; he needs to leave behind a capable fighter. While Mei can fire a gun and is a decent shot, she's not cut out for real combat. Therefore, Theon is the only one who can stay. With him there, Trist's dilapidated house instantly transforms into a makeshift military fortress, providing a sense of security.

As agreed, he and Xiaomei took John home.

He was too small to ride a horse. During the night raid last night, he rode with some older children. Those horses all ran away in fright after the gunfire started. This was his first time riding a Turkmen warhorse. He didn't say much along the way, but he would touch his pocket from time to time, afraid that the thick wad of US dollars inside would fall out.

When Zhang Renfeng actually took out a large stack of high-denomination US dollars from his bag, John's first reaction was disbelief. But then, recalling the guy's behavior in the grove earlier, John felt somewhat relieved... Perhaps Trist was right, this guy really was Superman, and couldn't be treated like an ordinary person.

But what happened next was a scenario that even science fiction writers would not dare to use lightly.

He actually took out 30% of the money and gave it to himself, a full six hundred dollars! For a moment, he thought of his father's back, and how he diligently cleaned the dust off the horse harnesses in the shop. He wondered how long he would have to work to earn that much money.

"Keep it. Most of the people who come here to gamble are in cahoots with Angelo," Zhang Renfeng said casually. "Why not take it?"

That being said, John wasn't stupid; he quickly realized that the amount of money wasn't important. What mattered was that he had to accept the money. Once he did, he would truly be on the same boat as these outsiders.

Perhaps they aren't bad people, but... Angelo's henchmen have been controlling Saint Quintak for almost five years. They're deeply entrenched, and their influence is incredibly complex. Is going against them really a good idea? What if, in the end, they realize they can't win and just leave, leaving us with nowhere to retreat and forced to face Angelo's reckoning?

……

This is the tragedy of the weaker party: they have little room for error and can easily fall into a situation of mutual infighting, allowing the stronger party to easily control everything.

----

"This is it?"

The shop was very small, the green door was peeling, and the light inside was dim. When the door opened, the crisp sound of the wind chimes and the creaking of the wooden door gave a subtle sense of tranquility. Zhang Renfeng's stature was a bit too large for the small door; he had to crouch down and squeeze through sideways.

Inside the shop, it's like another world, keeping the hustle and bustle of the big city outside.

The floor was exceptionally clean, a pleasing coffee color, and a few rays of light streamed in through the window, illuminating the dust floating in the room. The shop wasn't large, but it didn't feel cramped either. On the counters surrounding the four walls, saddles, reins, stirrups, and pairs of horseshoes were neatly arranged.

There was a painting on the wall, depicting a cowboy pulling on the reins and forcing his horse to stand up; it looked quite old.

Above the fireplace directly opposite, a double-barreled shotgun hangs, but judging from the dust on the gun, it is just a decoration for the homeowner.

“I especially love these old shops; they always have a unique atmosphere.” Xiaomei knows nothing about the quality of equestrian equipment; she simply enjoys quiet, deep, and enclosed spaces. This old shop perfectly suits her aesthetic, so she closes her eyes and breathes in the warm air. The scent of leather saddles and driftwood blends together, creating a unique fragrance.

"Don't laugh at me, but my original dream was to open a shop like this in Fengchuisha. There were taverns and weapon shops there, but no bookstores." Xiaomei's voice lowered. "Now, well, that place is..."

“It’s alright, it will become our territory sooner or later.” Zhang Renfeng was full of confidence in the future and said with a smile, “Once everything settles down, we’ll open a shop there.”

The sound of hurried footsteps interrupted their daydreams about the future.

An old man with gray hair, though still fairly robust, rushed out from the inner room. He wore a thick coat, but his hair was disheveled, and he had heavy dark circles under his eyes; his expression betrayed his undeniable exhaustion. The moment he saw Little John, the old man almost collapsed, grabbing the counter for support, his breathing rapid.

"Father!" Little John rushed over to help him.

The moment their eyes met, the old man seemed to have a thousand words to say, but in the end, he didn't say them, only letting out a deep sigh.

John didn't dare meet that heavy gaze and turned his head away.

"He's all dressed, but his hair is so messy. Looks like he searched all night without success and only just dozed off for a bit." Xiaomei deduced this information from the details and couldn't help but sigh, "No wonder, having a son late in life, she must value him more than anything else."

Watching the father and son reunite, the two onlookers, who had both lost their fathers, were deeply moved. They fell silent, turned and left.

----

"Please, please wait a moment..."

Perhaps it was the sound of the wind chimes that startled the old father from his reverie. He quickly rummaged through a pile of saddles, found two, grabbed one in each hand, and chased after them.

“Thank you for saving my son. I don’t know what happened, but last night, when he was called away by the Italian gang, I had a bad feeling.” The old man’s voice was full of pleading. He placed the two saddles on the ground, his aged fingers twisting together. “Thank you for bringing him back to me, thank you!”