145: Chapter 145 Zhao Cheng'an was scared

Seeing Cao Kun standing alone in the middle of the corridor, the bald, muscular man froze for a moment before letting out a cruel smirk.

"Quite self-aware, aren't you? Saves us the trouble of breaking down the door."

"Did Chairman Zhao send you?" Cao Kun asked calmly.

"Dead men don't need to know much." The bald man waved his hand. "Cripple him, then take the woman away."

Five men rushed forward first, the Steel Pipes and Batons in their hands glinting coldly under the lights.

Cao Kun moved.

His movements were faster than ordinary people could comprehend.

He sidestepped to dodge the first strike, simultaneously grabbing the opponent's wrist and twisting it in the opposite direction.

The crisp sound of dislocated bone echoed through the corridor, and the man fell down screaming.

A second Steel Pipe swung toward his head; Cao Kun didn't retreat but instead advanced, ducking low to slam into the man's chest and delivering an elbow strike to the ribs.

Another man collapsed with a muffled groan.

The third and fourth men attacked from both sides simultaneously.

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Cao Kun escaped the pincer attack with a sliding step, turning back to deliver two precise knife-hand strikes to their napes.

Clean and efficient.

In less than ten seconds, five men were down and unable to get up.

The remaining seven men looked at each other, shock and suspicion flashing in their eyes.

"All together!" the bald man roared.

They learned their lesson this time, forming a semi-circle to surround him and attacking all at once.

Steel Pipes, daggers, and Batons came from different angles, sealing off all room to evade.

But Cao Kun didn't need to evade.

He took a step forward, his speed suddenly increasing as he broke through at the weakest point.

A punch slammed into one man's chest, sending him flying back like a broken kite and knocking over two others.

His left hand parried a dagger while his right hand formed a claw around another's throat, applying just enough pressure to make the man choke and let go of his weapon.

He snatched the dagger and threw it backhanded, pinning it into another man's shoulder.

Spinning, he delivered a roundhouse kick.

Two men were struck in the head and slammed heavily against the wall.

Only the bald man and the last lackey remained, retreating two steps with eyes full of terror.

"You... who the hell are you?" the bald man's voice trembled.

Cao Kun didn't answer, approaching step by step.

*Bang!*

One punch.

The man fell backward, his nose bridge collapsed and blood gushing out.

Now, only the bald man was left.

This man, who had been so arrogant just a moment ago, now had his back pressed against the wall, cold sweat soaking through his clothes.

"B-Big brother... it's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding..." he stammered incoherently. "We're just doing a job for the money..."

Cao Kun picked up a Steel Pipe from the floor and weighed it in his hand. "Take a message to Chairman Zhao."

"You name it! I'll definitely deliver it!"

"Tell him his good days are over. For those children he killed, I will seek justice for each and every one of them."

Cao Kun's voice was ice-cold.

"Scram."

A single word, but it felt like a massive weight was lifted.

The bald man scrambled to his feet, dragging his companions who could still move, and fled in a wretched state.

Only the groaning wounded remained in the corridor. Cao Kun expressionlessly dialed the front desk: "There's a fight in the corridor, call the police."

Then he returned to the room.

Xiao Baihe rushed over, checking him up and down. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Cao Kun took her hand. "It's all settled. Now, it's time to make Chairman Zhao lose some sleep."

...

At the same time, in the study of Chairman Zhao's villa.

The crystal chandelier emitted a soft light, and the mahogany bookshelves were filled with hardcover books and charity trophies.

Chairman Zhao was wearing a silk bathrobe, holding a glass of red wine as he stood before the floor-to-ceiling window.

But the hand holding the glass was trembling slightly.

His phone lay on the desk, the screen dark.

He was waiting for a call—a call to confirm that the "trouble had been resolved."

The antique clock on the wall pointed to 12:20 AM.

Finally, the phone vibrated.

Chairman Zhao practically lunged for it. "How is it?"

On the other end of the line was the bald man's trembling voice: "D-Director Zhao... we... we failed..."

"What?!" Chairman Zhao's voice suddenly rose. "Twelve men couldn't handle one man and one woman? Are you all useless?"

"Th-That man isn't normal... he took down all of us by himself..."

Chairman Zhao's hand jerked, spilling red wine onto his bathrobe. "How is that possible?"

"It's true! Director Zhao, that man told me to give you a message..." The bald man swallowed hard. "He said your 'good days are over,' and he also said... he's going to seek justice for those children..."

Chairman Zhao's face instantly turned deathly pale.

The phone slipped from Chairman Zhao's hand, falling onto the carpet with a dull thud.

The study fell into a deathly silence.

Chairman Zhao stumbled back, slumping into his leather chair.

The red wine stain on his bathrobe was as glaring as blood.

"He knows... he really knows..." he muttered to himself, true fear surfacing in his eyes for the first time.

Over the years, he had disguised himself perfectly.

The halo of a philanthropist, the status of an entrepreneur, the image of a good family man... underneath layers of wrapping was a dark nature that even he himself had almost forgotten.

But now, someone had torn away that disguise.

And that person wasn't a policeman or a reporter, but a madman who completely disregarded the rules.

Daring to look for him directly, daring to take on over a dozen thugs alone, and daring to threaten him to his face!

Chairman Zhao stood up abruptly, pacing in the study.

The belt of his bathrobe had loosened, but he was completely unaware.

"Calm down... I must calm down..." he told himself, but his voice was shaking.

He walked to the wine cabinet, wanting to pour another glass, only to find his hands trembling too much to hold the bottle.

With a "thud," the bottle shattered on the floor, and expensive red wine soaked into the carpet.

Chairman Zhao stared at the dark red patch, suddenly thinking of the blood of those children.

The first was seven years ago, that runaway girl.

He wasn't very experienced back then; the girl struggled too hard, and he slipped...

Then came the second, the third...

Every time, he told himself it would be the last.

But the desire was like an addiction he couldn't break.

He began to plan meticulously, choosing children from marginalized families or the offspring of migrant workers.

Even if these children went missing, their families often lacked the power to look into it deeply.

He approached them using his identity as a philanthropist, lured them with candy and toys, and then used that abandoned villa...

But he never left any survivors.

Never.

Until last year, that little girl named Xiao Nian.

She looked too much like his deceased younger sister; he hesitated and kept her for two extra days.

During those two days, the little girl tried to escape and fell down the villa's stairs...

He remembered the way that tiny body lay in a pool of blood.

That was also the last time he committed a crime.

He swore to stop, using more charity to "atone."

But the desire returned. This afternoon, he saw that little girl crying in the Park, looking so much like Xiao Nian...

And then he was caught by those two people.

"They must die." Ruthlessness recongealed in Chairman Zhao's eyes. "No matter who they are, they must disappear."

...