27: Ninth Master is always ready to fight to the bitter end!

Changan Town Western Suburbs · Abandoned Factory

The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the abandoned factory's corrugated iron roof blood-red.

Zhou Tieshan crouched behind a dirt mound and pointed at the factory building in the distance, where dim lights were shining.

"They have a production site for little pills inside. Should we take it out too?"

Li Zhan narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "That's Master Bai's livelihood; let's not touch it for now."

He crushed the withered grass in his hand.

"Lest we back them into a corner and cause trouble."

"Since we know the location, we can find another chance to take it out later."

"This time, we only deal with the people."

As the sky grew dark, the roar of engines came from the distance.

Several vans parked in the clearing.

Over thirty people were loading gear into the vehicles; steel pipes and machetes glinted coldly in the twilight.

Li Zhan shot a look at Zhou Tieshan.

Old Zhou grinned and pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Move out."

Three unlicensed vans suddenly burst from a side road, engines roaring as they sped directly toward the crowd.

Li Zhan and Zhou Tieshan also led their men, charging in right behind the vans.

A moment later.

Amid screams, several lackeys were sent flying, while the rest scattered in a panic.

In the midst of the chaos, two dark shadows flashed out from the side of the factory building—

Yang Dayong swung a fire axe to break through the encirclement of two men, the crisp sound of the axe's back smashing against kneecaps mixing with their wails.

Chen Shuisheng moved like a venomous snake along the edge of the crowd; every time his military bayonet left its sheath, blood was drawn.

Li Zhan led his men to flank them, the dull thuds of steel pipes hitting flesh rising and falling.

His gaze locked onto Flour Chang in the crowd—

That fellow was about to run into the factory area.

Just as he was about to charge over,

Zhou Tieshan pounced from the side like a leopard, sweeping a whip kick across Flour Chang's knee.

The sound of bone shattering was clearly audible.

"Ah—!" Flour Chang collapsed to the ground.

Li Zhan stepped forward and stomped on the wrist he was using to pull out a gun, his boot grinding the finger bones until they creaked.

A dagger flashed coldly, stabbing directly into the other man's throat.

"From now on..."

Li Zhan grabbed his hair and lifted the distorted face up.

"You won't have the chance to spit in my office anymore."

Flour Chang's mouth was full of bloody froth, and his throat made a gurgling sound.

The muscles on his face twisted in agony, but his eyes still flickered with a frantic refusal to accept defeat.

His trembling fingers dug into the soil, as if he were still struggling to grasp something.

Li Zhan let go of his hair, searched him for a pistol, and slowly stood up.

The night wind blew the scent of blood into his face as he turned to survey the battlefield—

Zhou Tieshan was slamming a burly man's head against a truck tire, producing a sickening thud.

Yang Dayong swung a steel pipe in a horizontal sweep, and three lackeys fell like bowling pins.

Chen Shuisheng moved like a ghost along the edge of the crowd, striking vital points with precision every time he moved.

The sounds of clashing metal, cracking bones, and screams intertwined.

But the situation was already clear—Flour Chang's men were completely suppressed, falling in heaps like wheat being harvested.

"Fuck!"

A tattooed man had just reached for a machete when Li Zhan kicked him flying.

The blade flipped through the air and was caught by Zhou Tieshan, who backhanded it into another person's shoulder blade, sending blood splattering.

In less than three minutes, the battle was over.

Over thirty people lay scattered across the ground, their wails rising and falling.

"Ninth Master said!"

Li Zhan suddenly roared at the wounded on the ground, his voice echoing through the abandoned factory.

"It was Flour Chang who provoked us first and even tried to launch a sneak attack!"

He kicked the dying Flour Chang at his feet. "If Master Bai wants to start a war—

Ninth Master is ready to accompany him to the end anytime!"

Big Courage walked over and delivered a few extra kicks to those still trying to get up; the screams immediately rose several decibels.

"Withdraw!"

Li Zhan whistled.

Over a dozen people quickly boarded the vans.

Zhou Tieshan was the last to board; the moment the door slammed shut, the engine roared as they sped into the twilight.

—

Late-night snack stalls near the Xinyue Entertainment Center

Neon lights flickered in the night, and the smoky aroma of street stalls mixed with the malty scent of beer.

Li Zhan, Zhou Tieshan, Yang Dayong, and Chen Shuisheng sat around a folding table.

The table was piled with skewers, beer bottles, and peanut shells.

Lately, the group had become well-acquainted; they were all former military, and their personalities and tempers matched.

Moreover, Li Zhan was generous; he had given them fifty thousand yuan as soon as he arrived, solving Old Zhou and the others' urgent financial needs.

Normally, Li Zhan didn't treat them as subordinates; they called each other brothers.

Zhou Tieshan gulped down some beer and suddenly grinned, the scar on his face looking particularly menacing under the lights.

"A-Zhan, that last shout of yours was quite wicked."

Li Zhan laughed and clinked glasses with him.

"After all, I'm Ninth Master's man. If something happens, I can't be expected to shoulder it all alone, can I?"

He tilted his head back and finished the remaining half-bottle of beer. "Come on, let's keep drinking!"

Younger brothers from the nearby tables came over from time to time to offer toasts; Li Zhan refused no one, draining his glass every time.

While the atmosphere was at its peak,

Little Night walked over with her high heels clicking and unceremoniously squeezed into a seat next to Li Zhan.

"AZu is still watching over the business."

She tugged on Li Zhan's arm,

then picked up a freshly opened bottle of beer and clinked it with Zhou Tieshan, Big Courage, and Shui Sheng one by one.

"Come on, a toast to you brothers!"

After speaking, she tilted her head back and downed it in one go.

The liquid slid down from the corner of her lips, leaving a sparkling trail on her collarbone.

"Refreshing!" Zhou Tieshan laughed, slapping the table.

Little Night wiped her mouth, her eyes bright.

"You guys are really something, a dozen people taking on over thirty—"

She reached out and poked Big Courage's sturdy arm.

"Not only did you win, but only a few of you even got scratched. No one would believe it if told!"

Big Courage scratched his head sheepishly and said in Mandarin with a heavy Guangxi accent,

"It's nothing. Back then in..."

Shui Sheng suddenly kicked him under the table.

Big Courage immediately shut up and sheepishly gulped down some wine.

Little Night narrowed her eyes. "But... I'm afraid Master Bai won't let this matter rest."

She lowered her voice. "I heard he's been recruiting people lately, even getting in touch with mercenaries from Vietnam."

Li Zhan slowly peeled a salted peanut. "Old Zhou, what do you think?"

Zhou Tieshan toyed with a lighter. "I heard Master Bai is in his sixties; he should have retired long ago."

The metal cap closed with a "click." "But that live-in son-in-law of his—

The one who manages the Wharf, 'Refined Rong,' has been getting very close to the Cambodians lately."

Big Courage suddenly chimed in, "Cambodia? Isn't that where Flour Chang..."

Before he could finish, Shui Sheng glared him into silence.

Little Night leaned her body against Li Zhan.

"If you ask me, the biggest trouble is Master Bai's connections in the police station."

"I'm afraid that in the future, the Gambling Dens..."

She suddenly fell silent because Li Zhan's gaze had turned cold...—

Changan Town Western Suburbs · Villa

Before the floor-to-ceiling window, a burly figure stood against the light.

Master Bai's figure was like a small mountain.

His broad shoulders stretched the custom-made Tang suit tight, and three folds of fat piled up on the back of his neck, glistening under the lights.

His left hand rotated two walnuts with a thick patina, while his right hand held a phone, a jade thumb ring on his right thumb.

"Dead?"

The deep voice echoed in the spacious living room.

Whatever was said on the other end of the line made Master Bai's hand stop rotating the walnuts.

"Old Ninth..."

The phone was slammed onto the coffee table.

With a dull "thud," it bounced off the red sandalwood and rolled onto the carpet.

Master Bai slowly turned around, his round face so gloomy it looked like it could drip water, the age spots on his eye bags particularly noticeable under the light.