Tang Yongyun

Inside the warehouse, the scene was even rowdier than outside, with thugs drinking and playing cards as they pleased.

The young man in glasses responsible for monitoring the security cameras watched in horror as the gang members on his screen suddenly had their necks snapped one after another.

His eyes went wide as if he had seen a ghost. Jumping to his feet, his face drained of color as he turned to Bai Zhi. “Boss, this is bad! Something happened to the brothers outside!”

His shout instantly silenced the rowdy warehouse. Every gang member stood up and stared at the young man in glasses.

The tattooed-faced man pulled a pistol from beneath a gambling table, laughing maniacally. “Who is it? Another gang, or did the inspectors show up?”

“N-neither... The moment they saw this guy, their necks just snapped backward!” the young man stammered, his voice trembling.

Bai Zhi, who had been chatting with Tang Yongyun, frowned. He stood up and glared at the young man. “What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your mind, spouting such ridiculous nonsense in front of Mr. Tang?”

But just as the words left his mouth, the heavy warehouse doors were pulled open.

Everyone, including Tang Yongyun, turned their eyes toward the entrance.

A young man wearing a suit and a fedora stepped inside.

Zhao Jin looked at the nearly one hundred tattooed thugs standing before him. A faint smile played on his lips. “It seems I've arrived at the perfect time. So many people here to welcome me.”

“Boss, should we leave?” behind Tang Yongyun, a white man leaned down and whispered in a foreign language.

He stared at Zhao Jin, his expression incredibly grim.

Bai Zhi only knew that Tang Yongyun had come to Ningcheng to lie low for a while.

But as Tang Yongyun's personal bodyguard, he was well aware of the internal strife within their Syndicate. It was a ruthless, no-holds-barred struggle for power.

If this Zhao Jin was an assassin sent by their rivals, there would undoubtedly be a small army of killers right behind him.

Tang Yongyun looked on with amusement, replying in the same foreign tongue. “Leave? Where would we go? Only the Sanhai Gang can help me now. I backed them in the past precisely to prepare for a situation like this.”

“Kid, do you have any idea where you are, barging in here alone?” Seeing that Zhao Jin was empty-handed, the tattooed-faced man sneered.

He raised his pistol, aiming it at Zhao Jin as he strode forward.

Behind him, the other gang members pulled machetes and pistols from beneath the tables.

With hostile expressions, they began closing in on Zhao Jin.

“Brother Tattoo-face, let me have this kid when you're done. I've been losing all night, and I need to vent,” a young man holding a dagger grumbled.

Another pointed at Zhao Jin and spat, “Fuck, you think you can just waltz in here and act tough? We're gonna make you regret ever coming here!”

Meanwhile, the gang members carrying guns moved to form a protective circle around Bai Zhi and Tang Yongyun.

Since the intruder had managed to silently take out the lookouts outside, they figured he had to have backup.

Zhao Jin ignored the tattooed-faced man. His gaze drifted to the very back of the warehouse, where a brilliant golden light almost completely filled the space.

‘As expected, anyone capable of building an organization like this is no ordinary man. I definitely came to the right place.’ A look of satisfaction flashed in his eyes.

Seeing Zhao Jin ignore him, the tattooed-faced man took it as a personal insult.

He quickened his stride until he was right in front of Zhao Jin. Pressing the barrel of his pistol hard against Zhao Jin's temple, he sneered, “Kid—”

“Stop. I have no interest in listening to a dead man babble. Kill everyone except those two in the back,” Zhao Jin said, not even glancing at the man. Instead, he pointed directly at Tang Yongyun and Bai Zhi.

Veins bulged on the tattooed-faced man's forehead. He had already checked outside and knew the kid had come alone. Under such circumstances, how dared this brat talk to him like that?

“Arrogant bastard! Go to hell!” Enraged, the tattooed-faced man pulled the trigger. The bullet tore right through the fedora on Zhao Jin's head.

But as he stared at Zhao Jin, the rage on his face instantly froze.

The surrounding gang members gasped, their eyes widening in sheer disbelief.

Zhao Jin reached up and lightly tapped his temple. There was no blood, and he felt no pain.

“Y-you... why aren't you dead?” The tattooed-faced man stared at Zhao Jin's temple, watching the bullet hole rapidly close and heal. He took an involuntary step back.

His previous manic bravado vanished instantly, replaced by utter confusion, bewilderment, and a creeping sense of terror.

Suddenly, his vision spun wildly. The gang members who had been standing behind him were now looking at him with sheer terror, while others stared in horror at something behind Zhao Jin.

“He's a monster!”

Someone shrieked, and the thugs wielding blades and guns scrambled backward in panic.

The sound of snapping bones echoed in rapid succession. Every second, three men at the front had their necks snapped backward, dying before they could even let out a whimper.

Within seconds, over a dozen bodies littered the floor.

Terrified, the remaining gang members scrambled deeper into the warehouse.

Bai Zhi's left eye twitched violently. Forcing down his own terror, he roared, “Don't run! Hack him to pieces! Shoot him!”

But no matter how much he screamed, none of his men listened.

If this were a turf war with another gang, they would have fought to the death.

But this was entirely beyond their comprehension. They feared that if they pulled a trigger, they would be the next one whose neck snapped.

Standing behind Zhao Jin at the entrance was a puppet wearing a white opera robe, its face painted with faded, peeling makeup.

The puppet's glass eyes shifted slightly. Every time its gaze fell upon a trio, those three instantly dropped dead.

It glided past Zhao Jin and began walking deeper into the warehouse.

At the back of the warehouse, Tang Yongyun stood up, staring at Zhao Jin and the Opera-Robed Puppet in utter shock.

Surviving a bullet to the brain, the ability to snap necks out of thin air, and that bizarre puppet—it was all completely shattering his understanding of reality.

A barrage of gunfire erupted. Seeing the bodies pile up, some of the fleeing gang members grew desperate.

Realizing they were next, they spun around and blindly fired at Zhao Jin and the Opera-Robed Puppet.

Bullets tore into Zhao Jin's body, shredding his suit and leaving bloody holes.

Yet in the next instant, both his flesh and his suit seamlessly knit back together.

Zhao Jin simply stood in place, calmly watching them shoot him.

When the bullets struck the Opera-Robed Puppet, they produced the sharp clanging sounds of metal hitting metal.

One of the gunmen stared in horror as his bullets failed to leave even a scratch on the two monsters.

“Bullets don't work! We're dead! We're—” he shrieked in terror.

Before he could finish his sentence, his neck snapped backward.

“Mr. Tang, we need to leave. Now,” the white bodyguard behind Tang Yongyun urged, his face twitching with anxiety as he watched the slaughter.

Tang Yongyun had already been itching to flee. Hearing his bodyguard's warning, he didn't hesitate and prepared to slip away with them.