17: Chapter 17 Dad, how about we move?

In reality.

Jiang You, whose breathing had been steady, suddenly changed his rhythm.

He was no longer breathing gently through his nose, but instead...

"Gurgle—"

Like he was drinking water, his throat bobbed, and he swallowed the inhaled poisonous gas directly into his stomach!

With the [stomach] pulling powerfully, Jiang You's nostrils seemed to have turned into two small exhaust fans.

The poisonous gas permeating the room, which had been floating, now seemed to be pulled by some kind of physical gravity, frantically drilling into Jiang You's nostrils and sliding down his esophagus into his stomach.

[stomach (emitting a satisfied gurgling sound)]: "Hmm... the texture is a bit like the steam from a spicy hot pot base."

"A bit spicy, kicks hard!"

Outside the villa.

Cleaner A looked at the dashboard in his hand, his brow deeply furrowed.

"What the hell! Why does the pressure gauge keep dropping?"

"The concentration in the room was already saturated just now, how come it's suddenly negative pressure?"

"Is there a vacuum cleaner in the room sucking out the air?"

Cleaner B gritted his teeth: "Forget it! Connect the backup tank too! I don't believe we can't fill this room!"

Hiss, hiss, hiss—

Two tanks of poisonous gas worth millions were delivered into Jiang You's stomach without reservation.

Inside the room.

Jiang You turned over and smacked his lips.

"Burp~"

In his dream, he had just finished that plate of chive pockets and felt a bit full.

"The owner of this street food stall is really honest, giving such a large portion."

"It's just a bit gassy..."

[stomach]: "Brothers, I'm stuffed. There's too much gas; I can't digest it all."

"We have to vent some waste gas, or we're going to explode."

"Brain, requesting to open the window for ventilation. And while we're at it, spray out this compressed waste gas."

[Brain]: "Granted."

In reality.

Jiang You crawled out of bed in a daze, eyes closed, and walked to the window like a zombie.

He currently had two tanks of compressed Tier 3 poisonous gas in his stomach, mixed with the fermented products of strong gastric acid.

The power of that was no longer something that could be described as simple poisonous gas.

Under the windowsill.

Two cleaners were lying in the grass, pressing their ears against the wall to listen for movement.

"Why isn't there any screaming yet?"

"Did he get poisoned to death instantly?"

Just then.

The window above their heads was pushed open with a "clatter."

The two felt a surge of joy. Was the target struggling in his death throes, trying to crawl out for help?

They quickly looked up, preparing to deliver the finishing blow.

However, what they saw was a young man in spongebob pajamas, standing in the moonlight, his face rosy and his belly slightly protruding.

He braced his hands on the windowsill, took a deep breath, and faced the outside of the window—specifically, the direction of the two men's crowns.

Opened his mouth.

[stomach]: "Releasing pressure! Here you go!"

"Burp——————!!!"

An earth-shattering belch.

The sound was so loud that it made the villa's glass windows hum.

Accompanying the sound, a jet-black-green column of high-pressure gas spewed out!

This gas column, carrying terrifying kinetic energy and the desperate, mixed stench of chemical toxins and strong acid, struck with precision, covering the two unlucky fellows below.

Cleaner A: "..."

Cleaner B: "..."

They didn't even have the chance to scream.

The moment that stench drilled into their nostrils, their Brains instantly crashed.

It was too pungent!

Is this f*cking biochemical weapon?!

"Blegh!!!"

The two killers, whose vitality values were not low, were as fragile as two chicks in front of this super-breath fermented and purified by Jiang You's [stomach].

They rolled their eyes, foamed at the mouth, and were knocked unconscious on the spot by the stench.

Upstairs.

After finishing the belch, Jiang You rubbed his belly comfortably.

"Whew... much better."

"But why is there a smell of dead rats outside? The hygiene management in this neighborhood is still not up to par."

He closed the window in disgust and crawled back into bed.

"Time to sleep, gotta get up early to eat tomorrow."

The next morning.

The sun was shining brightly.

Jiang You was woken up by the noisy sound of police sirens downstairs.

He rubbed his eyes, walked to the balcony, and looked down.

He saw several police cars and ambulances parked downstairs.

Medical personnel were wearing gas masks, lifting two black-clad men who were foaming at the mouth and exuding a foul stench onto stretchers.

The security captain nearby was holding his nose and reporting to the police: "Officer, these two seem to have come to steal things."

"But for some reason, it seems they accidentally inhaled high-concentration insecticide?"

"The smell is too strong; the grass within a ten-meter radius has withered."

Jiang You leaned on the railing, watching this scene, and suddenly realized.

He took out his phone and sent a text to [Wheelchair God]:

[Thanks, brother! Your warning yesterday was really timely! I see two thieves downstairs who got knocked out by that insecticide. If I hadn't closed the window, I would probably be the one passed out. This property management's insecticide is really strong; I'll buy two bottles to keep on hand another day.]

The villa next door.

Although it was early morning, the air pressure inside the house was suffocating.

Zhao Tai sat in his wheelchair, looking through the floor-to-ceiling window at the ambulance carrying away the two "top-tier cleaners," his whole body trembling.

"Dad..."

Zhao Tai's voice trembled, tinged with a sob, and he turned to look at Patriarch Zhao behind him: "Let's... let's move."

"Really, I don't want this house anymore. That Jiang You... he's bad luck for me. No, he's bad luck for our whole family."

Patriarch Zhao stood in the shadows, hands behind his back.

His complexion was ashen, his eye bags heavy; he seemed to have aged ten years overnight, but the anger in his eyes was burning even hotter now.

"Move?"

Patriarch Zhao turned abruptly and slammed his hand onto the rosewood table.

"Bang!"

The corner of the table was shattered by his angry blow.

"My Zhao family has operated in Jiang City for three generations! If we get scared away by some punk kid, how can we continue to operate in the underworld? Where will the Zhao family's face go?"

"Besides, I don't believe he's a monster."

Patriarch Zhao gritted his teeth, beginning to forcefully hypnotize himself into a logical loop:

"Those two pieces of trash must have made a mistake yesterday! Or the gas tank was expired! It leaked! Otherwise, how else do you explain why Jiang You is perfectly fine, while they were the ones who collapsed?"

Just then, the screen of Zhao Tai's phone, which had fallen to the floor, lit up.

It was the text message Jiang You had replied with.

Zhao Tai picked it up tremblingly, took one look, then felt his vision go dark, and handed the phone to his father: "Dad... look..."

Patriarch Zhao took the phone and stared at it.

[Thanks, brother! Your warning yesterday was really timely! I see two thieves downstairs who got knocked out by that insecticide. If I hadn't closed the window, I would probably be the one passed out. This property management's insecticide is really strong; I'll buy two bottles to keep on hand another day.]

"Pfft—"

Patriarch Zhao felt a sweetness in his throat, and a mouthful of old blood nearly sprayed onto the screen.

His hand trembled violently, his knuckles turning white.

"Insect... insecticide?"

Patriarch Zhao's voice sounded as if it were squeezed through his teeth, filled with endless humiliation and rage: "I spent ten million on Soul-Devouring Poison Gas! That's a forbidden weapon capable of poisoning a Tier 3 expert! He calls it insecticide!"

"And he wants to buy two bottles to keep on hand?"

"Too much! This is simply too much!"

"Crack!"

The latest model phone was crushed into scrap metal by Patriarch Zhao.

Zhao Tai huddled in his wheelchair, trembling: "Dad... maybe we should just let it go? It's better to resolve grievances than to keep them..."

"Shut up! You useless piece of trash!"

Patriarch Zhao looked sharply at his son, his eyes flashing with desperate madness: "Let it go? Impossible! After making me, Patriarch Zhao, suffer such a huge loss, I must destroy this kid!"

"Since assassination doesn't work, and poisoning doesn't work, then we'll do it the hard way!"