Snow Leopard's mocking laughter made the bald man's face darken, suddenly realizing he might have hit a tough target. But once the arrow is on the bowstring, it must be shot. If he backs down, how can he survive in this area in the future? How would his subordinates see him? Thinking of the consequences, the bald man knew there was no retreat. In the underworld, reputation weighs more than life, so he must fight to the end. With this realization, the bald man hardened his heart and said coldly, "Oh? Very well, even a dragon crossing the river must bend to here, a descending Shan Hu must crouch before ."
"Alright, big talk is easy to say, co on, let's have a showdown," Snow Leopard said with an angry laugh, contemptuously. He stepped forward, patted Ghost Hand's shoulder, and said, "Brother, now it's my turn, don't hog all the fun, I love this kind of rough work the most, you just assist from the side."
"Alright, you go ahead." Ghost Hand casually retreated to the side, covertly keeping an eye on the surrounding people.
"Scarface, you go," the bald man ordered coldly, almost exploding with rage, because he had never been humiliated like this.
A man with a long scar on his face stepped forward, his eyes gloomy, his face gaunt, his whole body cold, giving off a snake-like vibe. His slightly closed triangular eyes locked onto Snow Leopard, a red glow flickering, yet he didn't attack rashly. Instead, he sized up Snow Leopard cautiously.
Snow Leopard looked at the opponent, scoffed, and said, "Being nad by the dead bald guy, you must be better than the last one. Don't disappoint , co on, you strike first, so no one can say I bullied you local tyrants."
Scarface didn't take the bait, continuing to coldly assess Snow Leopard, trying to find a flaw. From Snow Leopard's stance, he seed full of weaknesses, but Scarface had the illusion that no matter the angle of attack, he'd end up suffering. With the precedent set, Scarface didn't dare act easily.
"What are you waiting for?" the bald man impatiently yelled.
"Yeah, what are you waiting for, fight or roll away," Snow Leopard taunted.
Luo Zheng and the others watched this scene calmly, not worried. Though Snow Leopard's ranking might be lower in terms of strength, his explosiveness ranked high. Even Luo Zheng considered himself inferior in this aspect. Dealing with such a scene was more than sufficient. Lan Xing excitedly took out his phone, opened the cara, fearlessly shouting, "Hurry up, hurry up, finish fighting so I can upload it, the click rate will definitely skyrocket."
The bald man observed these people, seemingly calm, as if playing, secretly puzzled, thinking this might not be an ordinary tough guy. He quietly took a few steps back, picked up the phone, and made a call.
Luo Zheng keenly noticed the bald man's action but didn't stop him. An elite National Blade Soldier King frightened by a band of local tyrants, what's next? As a man, seeing a woman bullied, how could he not fight back? He smirked indifferently, staying alert to the surroundings just in case.
"Hiss!" Scarface suddenly exclaid, like a snake flicking its tongue, his body slightly hunched, suddenly dashed forward like a cannonball, lightning fast, his hands rapidly transforming into various attack moves, moving swiftly, like the snake's tongue straight towards Snow Leopard's upper body.
Snow Leopard's expression slightly tensed but didn't retreat, instead, he leaped forward, stomping heavily on the ground, causing a loud thud. His right hand hooked into a punch, aiming fiercely at Scarface's arm position, quick as a startled swan, leaving a shadow in the void, hard to distinguish with the naked eye.
Scarface hadn't expected Snow Leopard's attack to be countered with a life-for-life tactic, his expression changed drastically, unwilling to risk his life. His body instinctively retreated explosively, but it was too late. Snow Leopard seed to know he'd retreat halfway, took another step forward, the movents seamless, fluid and smooth.
"Poof!" Snow Leopard's massive fist slamd into Scarface's arm, a faint sound of bone cracking echoed. Scarface grunted, flew backward, hit a table, the table flew away, Scarface lay on the ground, clutching his arm tightly, his face pale, forehead cold with sweat, triangular eyes filled with venomous hatred.
Snow Leopard disdainfully shook his hand, relaxed his arm, coldly looked at Scarface and said, "You have so strength, but it's not enough. Crippling your arm is a punishnt for assisting the wicked. Who's next?" With that, Snow Leopard arrogantly scanned the crowd, finally fixing his gaze on the bald man.
Everyone stared in shock at Scarface, then at Snow Leopard. The bald man also stared at Snow Leopard, his top enforcer was no match, taken out with one punch, what was the background of these people? Thinking this, the bald man's face turned cold and unsmiling. Losing was not an option; leaving now ant giving up. Driven by desperation, he roared angrily, "All of you, attack! Dead or alive!"
The others brought by the bald man heard the command and yelled as if to boost their courage, grabbing nearby tables and chairs to start the fight. Luo Zheng, seeing the bald man planning a group brawl, snorted coldly and said calmly, "Just don't kill anyone, make it quick."
"Understood." Ghost Hand, Snow Leopard, and Mountain Eagle got excited at once, readily agreed, each picking a direction, showing their true skills. Snow Leopard excitedly roared, took a step forward like a human tank, swung his arms fiercely, smashing down, directly shattering the chair thrown by the opponent, his fist continued its montum, landed heavily on the opponent's head, knocking them unconscious on the ground.
Ghost Hand refused to be outdone, his hands turned into a blur, caught the thrown chair like lightning, kicked a foot, sending the opponent flying a long way, a faint sound of ribs cracking echoed, the opponent smashed into a table, landed heavily on the ground, unable to rise, blood sprayed out from the mouth.
"Courting death." Mountain Eagle, though not as strong as Snow Leopard, nor as skillful as Ghost Hand, held his own in comprehensive power. He pushed off with both feet, soared up, knee crashed fiercely into a person, with a crunch, the chair the opponent threw shattered, his knee accurately hit the opponent's chest.
"Ah—" The opponent scread, blood sprayed out, the body flew backward, slamd to the ground heavily, moaned in pain.
In the blink of an eye, the three took down three targets, roared, and lunged at others. The bald man saw each opponent was ferocious, his face horrified, this wasn't just tough, it was legendary steel plate toughness. Considering the consequences, the bald man's face turned grim, driven by desperation, he pulled out a pistol, yelled hysterically, "All of you, stop! Or I'll kill without rcy."
Everyone stopped, stared astonished at the pistol in the bald man's hand. They were weapon experts, at a glance they knew it was a Model 54 pistol, generally seen as having average lethality, but not to be underestimated at close range. The bald man saw everyone stop, thinking they were scared, grew even bolder, coldly ordered, "All of you, get down, quickly."
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