Chapter 105: Looking for Trouble

That very night, Yang Jiekai summoned Long Xiaoman over. After some discussion among the few of them, they decided to take action the very next day.

At the outskirts of Anhai City’s eastern suburbs, in the semi-urban area, along one of the liveliest main streets, stood the only local arcade. Inside, a group of teenagers, all around the same age, were puffing on cigarettes, thoroughly enjoying their games.

“Boss, top up the credits!”

At that moment, three young men walked in from outside. One was fair-skinned with charming almond-shaped eyes, another was short and sly-looking, and the third had dark skin, droopy eyelids, and a perpetually sleepy demeanor.

These three were Qin Feng, Gongsun, and Old Stick—sent by Yang Jiekai as the vanguard.

Before coming, they had already learned that the local gang leader here was Wang Sankui, who ran both the arcade and a billiard hall. He was notorious for his tyranny, and no one dared to provoke him.

“How many points do you want to top up?”

A semi-grown youth with multicolored dyed hair lazily stood up and asked.

Qin Feng said, “Ten million points.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The youth glanced at the three newcomers. “Do you even know how to play? Ten million points? Do you have that kind of money?”

“Whether I have the money is my business. Just top up the points as I said—no more nonsense.”

“Damn, you’re picking a fight, aren’t you? Don’t you know whose turf this is?” The youth looked down on Qin Feng and the others. He made a living under Wang Sankui’s protection and was used to bullying others in this area. Seeing these unfamiliar faces, he didn’t take them seriously.

“I don’t care whose turf it is. If you don’t top up the points today, I’ll smash your machines!”

“Hey, I—”

The youth had been running with Wang Sankui for years, but no one had ever dared to talk to him like this. He was about to refuse when Qin Feng suddenly slapped him hard.

Before the youth could react, Qin Feng launched a flurry of punches, knocking him to the ground.

“What kind of crappy machines are these? Nobody plays anymore—anyone who does, I’ll beat up!”

Qin Feng grabbed a chair and smashed one of the nearby machines to pieces, then gave the fallen youth another beating before walking off.

But instead of leaving the area, the three turned into an alley and leaned against the wall, leisurely smoking.

“Old Stick, you better hold your own later,” Gongsun said, a bit uneasy. Though he was once a legendary thief before retiring, his fighting skills were mediocre—he couldn’t even beat Qin Feng. Knowing a fierce battle was coming, he felt somewhat nervous.

“What are you afraid of? With your pathetic look, I shouldn’t have even brought you along,” Qin Feng scoffed. Though not a martial artist, he was fearless and ruthless.

“I’m only here because Brother Yang asked me. Do you think I want to come?” Gongsun protested.

Just then, a voice rang out from the alley entrance, “It’s them! Attack—beat them to death!”

The three looked toward the sound and saw a dozen or so men charging at them, wielding steel pipes and other weapons.

Gongsun’s first reaction was to pick up a stone from the ground and hide behind Old Stick, while Qin Feng swiftly whipped out his belt studded with metal.

Old Stick, however, said nothing. Like nothing had happened, he silently smoked a poor-quality cigarette without a filter.

When the group reached them, Old Stick suddenly sprang into action!

With a flick, the burning cigarette stub flew like a dart, striking the lead attacker’s eye. The man screamed in pain, clutching his face.

Old Stick then bent his body and lunged forward like a leopard, landing a flying kick that took down two men.

Qin Feng was equally fierce, swinging his belt wildly as he charged into the crowd, slapping anyone in reach.

Gongsun stayed behind Old Stick, darting out occasionally to deliver low blows.

With Old Stick’s ferocity, the ground soon lay scattered with groaning figures.

“Kid, tell Wang Sankui this—if he knows what’s good for him, he’d better get out of this area tonight. Otherwise, we’re coming to wreck his place. If he refuses, tell him to clean his neck and wait for me to come and chop it off!”

Qin Feng grabbed one of the attackers and said before the three left triumphantly.

When Wang Sankui received the news, he nearly exploded with rage. He had been born and bred here; since he was twelve or thirteen, he had wielded a watermelon knife to slash people. Who dared to openly cause trouble for him—especially a few unfamiliar greenhorns?

“Immediately gather all our brothers. Meet at the billiard hall tonight. Once they show up, kill a few of them for me!”

Wang Sankui fumed, his chubby face trembling with anger.

Around ten o’clock that night, Wang Sankui and his men waited in the billiard hall. Suddenly, a hurried subordinate rushed in.

“Brother Wang, they’re here!”

“Good timing!”

Wang Sankui threw his cigarette butt to the ground and commanded, “Brothers, grab your weapons!”

Long Xiaoman, dressed in a black trench coat and wielding a machete, led a group of people charging fiercely forward, colliding head-on with Wang Sankui’s gang.

There was no idle chatter—upon meeting, the fight erupted into chaos.

Wang Sankui was confident of victory; after all, he was the local kingpin with over two hundred men, while their opponents barely numbered fifty or sixty.

But as the fight wore on, he sensed something was wrong. His men fell like ripe wheat, one after another, while the enemy fought with growing courage.

Having spent over a decade in the local underworld, Wang Sankui quickly calmed down. He noticed that apart from the fierce woman in black, two unremarkable men were mixed in the fray—wherever they charged, a cluster of foes fell.

With countless brawls under his belt, Wang Sankui knew that to win, these two were the key.

“Damn fools!”

He roared, brandishing his machete as he charged at the two men. But before he could strike, a lightning-fast grip seized his arm.

“Damn fools are you,” said a plain-looking young man with a faintly wicked smile curling at his lips.

Wang Sankui struggled hard to break free, but the grasp was like a steel vice, holding him motionless.

Bang!

The young man landed a hooking punch to Wang Sankui’s abdomen, bending him over in pain. Then, like a sack of old burlap, Wang Sankui was hoisted and thrown aside. The men surrounding him pinned him down and began a brutal beating.

“Wang Sankui, remember this name—Long Xiaoman. We are the Long Clan. From now on, you have two choices: first, I’ll dig a hole and bury you alive; second, you join us and make a living together!”

Long Xiaoman, clad in high leather boots, pressed her foot on Wang Sankui’s face. “Of course, if you join me, I won’t treat you or your brothers unfairly. You can continue to be the kingpin here!”

Cold sweat poured down Wang Sankui’s forehead. He dared not refuse and nodded frantically.

Long Xiaoman then lifted her foot and signaled a subordinate to bring over a bag.

She opened it to reveal bundles of cash.

“This money is a gift for the brothers as a token of goodwill. If you’re willing to join, I promise there will be more to come. But if not, you can continue to fight me!”

She tossed the bag on the ground and strode away with her group. After a few steps, she threw back a business card and said, “Here’s my number. You have one night to think it over. Call me when you’re ready.”

On the way back, a subordinate walked up to Long Xiaoman with a grin.

“Given your reputation in the underworld, do you really think Wang Sankui will submit?”

Long Xiaoman stretched her arms. “I’ve used both the carrot and the stick. It should be fine.”

She continued, “By the way, Jiekai, you weren’t the only capable fighter in the crowd. Another brother also showed great skill. If it weren’t for you two, we would have suffered big losses.”

“He’s called Old Stick. Don’t even think about poaching him—he’s mine,” Yang Jiekai chuckled.

During the battle, the two most formidable enemies in Wang Sankui’s eyes were Yang Jiekai and Old Stick.

This was part of Yang Jiekai’s strategy. Unlike mixing in the underworld himself, he chose to support Long Xiaoman’s rise, making her his backing force. Thus, he served as a subordinate in this skirmish.

Although Long Xiaoman agreed to venture into the suburban area first, the Dragon Palace Bar was not entirely abandoned. Under Yang Jiekai’s instructions, it remained a secret stronghold in the city.

“Cheers!”

Back at the Dragon Palace Bar, the group celebrated their victory with drinks. This was their first proactive step, and with Yang Jiekai’s help, it was a resounding success.

Soon, Long Xiaoman’s phone rang. After a brief conversation, she tossed the phone aside and smiled at Yang Jiekai.

“It’s Wang Sankui. Just as expected, he’s backing down. Starting tomorrow, we officially take over the eastern suburbs.”

Yang Jiekai nodded. “Have you thought about what to do after taking over the eastern suburbs?”

Long Xiaoman, holding a glass of red wine and reclining on the sofa with her long legs crossed, replied, “What else? Continue running the place and collecting protection fees.”

Yang Jiekai shook his head. “If that’s all, there’s no need for us to go through so much trouble to move into the eastern suburbs. I want more than that.”

“Oh? Then tell me your plan,” Long Xiaoman said, curious.

Yang Jiekai smiled. “I’ll introduce someone to you. Let him tell you what to do next.”