"How dare you!"
"There’s nothing I don’t dare."
The deer-man looked around and saw a white-haired young girl slowly walking toward his car, blocking the path of the vehicle.
Judging by her presence alone, Mr. Hao determined that the girl was strong—stronger than most of his subordinates, possessing the strength of at least a grade 2 fixer.
He held a high position, managing a powerful gang in this hive city. Normally, he didn't fear individuals like fixers.
To him, low-grade fixers were nothing more than scattered thugs with slightly higher personal combat ability; they posed no real threat to a gang fully equipped with firearms.
He had encountered assassination attempts by fixers more than once or twice, but never had a fixer dared to walk so openly before him, coming to such a close distance!
As long as he gave the order, the surrounding Lion Group could easily tear these two apart.
But at such a close distance, if these two really did something irrational, he wouldn't be able to escape unscathed either.
Tsk... of all times, it had to be now!
Not a single subordinate was by his side. Even if they rushed over now, it would still take some time.
"You lunatic!" Mr. Hao growled.
Xu Xiaoyou didn't react to his words. She simply wrapped a roll of bandages around her hand, layer by layer, with an expressionless face.
Only when the bandages had wrapped her hand thick and solid did Xu Xiaoyou take a step forward.
Seeing the girl's actions, Mr. Hao silently moved away from the car window.
Noticing the deer-man's reaction, Xu Xiaoyou smiled slightly. She didn't do anything irrational; she simply leaned down and gently breathed onto the car window, then used her bandage-wrapped hand to wipe away the blurry fog, making the glass clear.
Mr. Hao gave the girl a long look.
"I'm not a madman, I'm a gambler."
"The biggest difference between a gambler and a madman is whether they can stay rational and win when they put everything on the line!"
"I don't want to make things too tense, Mr. Hao."
"Why don't we have a proper talk? How about it?"
"Anya, from now on, set a timer for two minutes."
Those ambiguous words caused the deer-man's internal guard to reach its peak.
Time began to tick away, second by second.
Meanwhile, a short while ago on the other side.
Several lions had cornered the boy in an alleyway. The leading lion-man was panting heavily.
"What is with this little brat? How the hell does he run so fast!"
"Don't come over here! I'm not going with you! I want to go back and find my mom!"
Just as the boy tried to run again, a pair of powerful hands suddenly grabbed him.
After seeing Scarface's visage, the boy was terrified. The lion-man before him looked like a ferocious beast; the scar between his brows seemed to hide a raging storm, and his eyes were as sharp as knife blades.
Scarface raised his hand, and the boy flinched, covering his face in fear.
However, it was only a warm, rough hand that patted his head. A deep voice, contrasting with his appearance, spoke:
"Go back. Your dad has been waiting for you for a long time."
"He’s not my dad! Where was he when Mom was struggling? Where was he when I was sick!?"
"He only shows up now! He only shows up after Mom is gone..."
"He only shows up when it's too late for everything."
"Why doesn't he just go die!!"
Scarface didn't know what to say. He simply listened in silence as the boy screamed at him through tears, punching him again and again in a vent of emotion, releasing all his feelings.
He could understand the child's current emotions—a tragic and incomplete childhood.
The surrounding lions all shrugged, looking at each other without saying anything.
Finally, the boy seemed to have vented enough. He wiped away his tears and stopped being unreasonable, though his eyes remained bloodshot. "I want to hold a funeral for Mom."
"It has to be the biggest funeral. I want everyone in the slum to know about it."
Scarface gave a grunt of affirmation.
"He has to be there. Otherwise, I’m definitely not going with you. Even if you take me by force, I’ll just sneak away."
The surrounding lions couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"What are you laughing at! I asked you, what are you laughing at!" The boy's pride felt wounded, and he raised his voice.
Seeing the boy's stubbornness, Scarface felt as though he saw the shadow of the boy's father in him.
At such a young age, he already knew how to use the leverage he had to negotiate.
In this regard, he was quite like the boss.
Thinking this, he finally agreed to the boy's request.
Just as the drama was ending and the lions were about to pack up, countless dark figures suddenly emerged from both ends of the alley.
"Hmm?" Scarface sensed something was wrong.
Those people looked like local street punks, sporting mohawks, face paint, and wearing all sorts of bizarre outfits adorned with iron chains.
Vaguely, the roar of motorcycle engines could be heard. More and more punks surrounded them, parking their heavily modified bikes at the alley entrance, blocking the way.
A hunched lion-man almost laughed. Seeing those little punks dare to come looking for trouble with nothing but clubs and pipes, he stuck his hands in his pockets:
"Fuck, they actually have the balls to find trouble with us? Do you even know who we are!?"
"We're the fucking Lion Group..."
Before Manji could finish his roar, a brick smashed against his forehead. Blood splattered instantly.
He clutched his forehead, howling as he retreated, his face filled with rage.
These brats who haven't even grown their hair out really dared to attack them?
Did they really not know who they were?
The leading punk rested a crowbar on his shoulder while chewing gum. He picked his nose with a look of utter disdain:
"Lion Group? What's that crap? Never heard of 'em. Are they supposed to be hot shit?"
"All I know is that someone gave me a few hundred credit points and told me to come here and beat the shit out of you."
"Brothers! Charge! Beat them to death!" he shouted. "Let them see what we're made of!"
A swarm of shadows charged from both ends toward the middle, mixed with excited shouts and screams.
"A few hundred credit points? Are you fucking kidding me!"
"These biker brats really are..."
One lion cracked his neck, his body popping and snapping. He drew a deep breath, stepped forward, and downed a punk with a single punch before launching a kick that sent another charging punk flying.
An iron pipe slammed hard into the back of his head with a dull thud.
The dizzy spell made him click his tongue. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head and let out an ear-splitting roar.
The punks were frightened back by this lion's roar, but relying on their sheer numbers, it didn't take long before they regained their courage and rushed forward again.
Clearly, these young punks were no match for the lions in terms of physique or close combat skills. However, the biker gang had the numbers, and combined with the reckless courage of youth, the scene suddenly became chaotic.
Amidst the fray, Scarface kept the boy protected behind him. With one hand, he hoisted a charging punk and hurled him into the crowd, knocking down a large group instantly.
He scanned the surroundings, the bad feeling in his heart growing stronger.
Why would someone choose this time to hire these wet-behind-the-ears brats to deal with them?
They clearly knew these kids couldn't pose a real threat.
Were they trying to stall them here?
Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.
Oh no!
The boss is in danger!
Rate on N.U.
