53: Punish evil and promote good

West City's Old Street was notoriously dirty, chaotic, and run-down.

The air was a complex mix of cheap perfume, fried food, and sewer odors.

Fang Yuan walked through the crowded streets, completely out of place with his surroundings.

He had just left home, and his parents' expressions, filled with worry and a hint of pity, were still fresh in his mind.

Retake the exams?

He no longer needed to.

The path he was on now was far broader than any other.

In the freshman chat group, Lin Xiao was slaying demons in Gusu, and Shen Miao was fighting for justice in Shancheng, making his blood boil with excitement.

Why could they do it, but I couldn't?

Today, he was here to stir up trouble.

As he reached the corner of the snack street, a commotion caught his attention.

An old woman selling sweet soup was surrounded by seven or eight thuggish men.

The leader, a man with yellow hair, had one foot on the old woman's small cart, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his attitude arrogant.

"Old hag, isn't it time to pay this month's protection fee?"

"If you don't pay, don't even think about setting up your stall!"

The old woman tremblingly pulled out a few crumpled bills from her pocket.

"Young man, I only earned this much today. Can you give me a couple more days?"

"Get lost!"

The yellow-haired man slapped the money away, cursing fiercely, "If you don't have money, then scram! Is West City's Old Street a place for paupers like you?"

The surrounding vendors and passersby all lowered their heads, daring not to speak up in anger.

Fang Yuan stopped.

He looked at the strong men, and the spiritual energy within his body began to circulate uncontrollably faster.

This was the evil of the mortal world.

In the past, if he had seen this, he would have, like others, silently walked away.

But now... he lifted his foot and walked over.

"You guys, pick up the money, return it to the old lady, and then get out."

Fang Yuan's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears.

The yellow-haired man froze for a moment, then turned his head, looking at Fang Yuan as if he were an idiot.

"Kid, who the hell are you? Trying to be a hero?"

The strong men behind him also sneered, cracking their knuckles loudly.

"I'll say it again."

Fang Yuan's tone was completely flat.

"Pick up the money, apologize, and scram."

"Damn it! You're asking for trouble, aren't you!"

The yellow-haired man was enraged, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground and waving his hand, shouting, "Brothers, cripple him for me!"

Eight strong men rushed forward like wolves and tigers.

The surrounding crowd gasped, and the timid ones had already closed their eyes.

Fang Yuan didn't move.

Just as the first fist, as big as a casserole, was about to smash into his face.

He moved.

Spiritual energy instantly surged through his Meridians, filling his limbs and bones.

Bang!

Fang Yuan kicked out, hitting the man squarely in the abdomen.

The strong man's two-hundred-plus-pound body flew backward as if hit by a truck, knocking down two people behind him.

The other men rushed closer.

Fang Yuan sidestepped, punched, elbowed, and swept his leg.

His movements were simple, yet incredibly fast.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The dull thuds of Physical Body impacts were as dense as firecrackers going off.

In less than ten seconds.

The battle was over.

All eight strong men lay on the ground, curled up and groaning in pain.

The entire snack street fell into a dead silence.

Everyone's eyes were wide, as if they had seen a ghost.

The yellow-haired man's face turned pale, and his legs trembled uncontrollably like sieving chaff.

Fang Yuan walked up to him step by step.

"Now, can you pick up the money?"

"Yes, yes!"

The yellow-haired man scrambled to the ground, picking up the loose change one by one, respectfully handing it to the old woman, who was still stunned.

"Old... old lady, I'm sorry!"

Fang Yuan looked at him and continued to ask, "Who sent you?"

"It... it was Brother Kun."

"Who is Brother Kun?"

"He's the boss of this area."

"Where is he?"

"He's... he's at the Black Rose KTV."

Fang Yuan nodded.

He turned and, under the awed gazes of the crowd, left the snack street.

He didn't look back, but he could feel the sensation of being treated as a strong person.

It felt great... Black Rose KTV.

The deafening music and flashing lights made the entire space appear bizarre and kaleidoscopic.

Fang Yuan walked directly to the front desk.

"I'm looking for Brother Kun."

The receptionist at the front desk saw him, sized him up, and offered a professional smile.

"Sir, do you have an appointment?"

Fang Yuan ignored her and walked straight inside.

"Hey! Sir, you can't go in!"

Two security guards in black suits immediately reached out to stop him.

Fang Yuan "Scram."

Fang Yuan only said one word.

The two security guards felt as if they had been hit by an enraged bull, staggering back several steps and crashing into the wall.

Fang Yuan kicked open the door of the largest private room at the end of the corridor.

"Bang!"

The door slammed against the wall, making a huge noise.

Inside the private room, the music abruptly stopped.

Over twenty bare-chested thugs, covered in tattoos, all turned their heads in unison.

In the center of the sofa, a Fat Man (fat man) wearing a large gold chain was embracing two women.

He was Brother Kun.

"Damn it, who is it? Are you looking for death?!"

Brother Kun pushed away the women in his arms and cursed angrily.

Fang Yuan walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Are you Brother Kun?"

"I am! Who the hell are you?"

"Here to have a chat with you."

Brother Kun sneered.

"A chat? Alright!"

He stood up, pulled a baseball bat from under the table, and weighed it in his hand.

"Brothers, have a good chat with him!"

Over twenty thugs picked up wine bottles and ashtrays from the table, surrounding him with ferocious expressions.

A thrill of excitement appeared on Fang Yuan's face.

He charged forward proactively.

The private room instantly erupted into chaos.

The sound of breaking bottles, collapsing tables and chairs, and snapping bones mingled together.

Fang Yuan was like a fierce tiger charging into a flock of sheep.

Every punch, every kick, was precise and deadly.

His Physical Body, empowered by spiritual energy, was as hard as iron.

The wine bottles and clubs that struck him couldn't even make him waver.

Instead, the thugs' wrists shattered from the recoil.

Five minutes later.

In the private room, besides Fang Yuan, there was no one left standing.

The baseball bat in Brother Kun's hand dropped to the ground. He looked at his subordinates writhing on the floor, completely bewildered.

Fang Yuan walked up to him, picked up the baseball bat, and lightly tapped his face with it.

"Now, can we have a good chat?"

Brother Kun's cold sweat instantly poured down. He plopped to his knees.

"Big brother! Big brother, I was wrong! Which Dao are you from? I... if I've offended you in any way, please tell me, I'll change!"

"Your men were collecting protection fees on West City Old Street's snack street?"

"Yes... yes, yes..."

Brother Kun nodded like a pounding garlic.

"Do you have anyone above you?"

"No... no one! Big brother, I'm the boss of this area!" Brother Kun's eyes darted around.

The baseball bat in Fang Yuan's hand swung down fiercely.

"Crack!"

The coffee table next to Brother Kun was smashed to pieces.

"I'll ask again."

Fang Yuan's tone was icy.

"Who else is above you?"

Brother Kun was so scared his Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, his crotch felt warm, and he directly peed himself.

"Yes! Yes! It's Brother Leopard! Brother Leopard told me to do it!"

"Brother Leopard?"

"Yes! He's the boss of our Iron Wolf Gang! All the underground forces in West City answer to him!"

"Where is he?"

"He's... he's at the abandoned chemical factory in the west of the city! He has an appointment to discuss business today!"

Fang Yuan threw the baseball bat to the ground.

To cut the weeds, one must remove the roots.

He turned, pulled open the private room door, and walked out... Under the night sky, the abandoned chemical factory appeared particularly eerie.

Fang Yuan stood outside the factory gate.

Inside, it was brightly lit.

Over a hundred strong men, armed with steel pipes and machetes, stood densely packed across the entire open space.

A bald man with a scarred face was sitting on a chair in the very center, his foot on a bloody, mangled person.

He seemed to sense something, lifted his head, and looked towards the entrance.

Fang Yuan stepped forward and walked in.

A hundred fierce gazes instantly locked onto him.

Fang Yuan grinned.

The spiritual energy within his body was wildly clamoring.

This was more like it.