Chapter 122: The Chase at the Pier

Song Zhong did not understand why I insisted on alerting the enemy.

My answer was simple: the Golden Coast storefront was shut tight, meaning the members of the Golden Cicada Society were already aware of our intentions. Rather than skulking about, it was better to apply direct pressure.

I clenched my fists and stared at the closed door. "Song Zhong, debts must be paid and lives must be forfeit. That is a principle as old as time."

I reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder, and smiled. "Yu Nie’s life, Little Zhang’s leg—someone has to pay for these."

Without waiting for his reaction, I marched toward the locked Golden Coast clothing store. Watching my back, Song Zhong asked himself with a bitter laugh, "Is this what an eighteen-year-old should be like?"

The memory of my ruthlessness moments earlier sent a shiver through him. Yet, he understood that some things simply had to be done, regardless of age.

Standing at the entrance, I took a deep breath and kicked the door open. Song Zhong followed closely behind. We searched the shop for twenty minutes before finally finding the switch to a hidden door inside the fitting room.

I spat on the ground as I gazed into the dark, foul-smelling passage. This corridor had torn so many families apart. I pulled a pack of Red Square cigarettes from my pocket, lit one, and took a deep drag. Exhaling a plume of smoke into the darkness, I sniffed the air and gestured for Song Zhong to follow. "Let's go."

The passage was pitch black and low enough that an adult had to hunch over to walk. I had no idea where it led. After about ten minutes, guided by the flashlight on my phone, we spotted a metal door overhead with a ladder beside it. Song Zhong held the light for me as he climbed up and pushed the hatch open.

We crawled out into a dim, cramped room, roughly ten square meters in size. It was filled with heavy iron chains and large dog cages. The only window was covered with layers of newspaper.

"It looks like they just left," Song Zhong said, touching a bowl of unfinished instant noodles.

I didn't reply. I kicked open the door to reveal a living room. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and alcohol, and it was clear more than one person had been staying here. There were drag marks on the floor, signs of a struggle.

Exiting the house, I realized we were on the ground floor of an old residential complex behind the Golden Coast. I immediately sent our location to Wang Zihao, who happened to be nearby and arrived quickly with his team to collect evidence.

"Hurry! Get in the car!" Wang Zihao didn't even get out of his vehicle; he shouted for us to jump in.

Once inside, he didn't waste a second, flooring the accelerator and speeding off. "The apartment was just a transfer point. I checked the surveillance footage—they left in two cars with two sacks in the trunks. They’re heading straight for the docks!"

Driving with one hand, Wang Zihao floored it while handing us each a stun baton. "Stay safe. If you have to, kill them on the spot!"

We arrived at the docks at midday, just as the workers were breaking for lunch. Only one vessel was buzzing with activity.

"Move! Faster! Get out of here! We've been spotted!"
"If this shipment doesn't go out, we’re all dead!"

Anyone could guess what the Golden Cicada Society meant by "shipment."

"Freeze! Police! Hands on your heads, get down!"

There was no time to wait for reinforcements; the moment would be lost. Wang Zihao drew his gun and charged ahead. There were a dozen men on the pier, not just the ones from the apartment. Among them stood a man in a black suit with a piercing in his left eyebrow.

The moment their eyes met, Wang Zihao fired. The man tilted his head, and the bullet struck one of his lackeys instead. The man’s eyes turned bloodshot, the veins in his temples bulging as he charged straight at Wang Zihao.

Wang Zihao tried to fire again, but the man’s movements were unnatural. He closed the distance in two strides, kicked the gun out of Wang Zihao’s hand, and followed up with a spinning kick to his stomach. Wang Zihao stumbled back and collapsed.

There was no point in talking now. I lunged forward with my stun baton. The man sneered, clearly dismissing me as a mere child. That was his mistake. As we clashed, I seized his wrist. Though the baton didn't hit a vital point, I slammed my foot into his knee. He instinctively dropped to one knee, and I didn't hesitate to drive my foot into his chest.

The man reacted quickly, bracing himself and blocking the blow. I raised the baton and swung it at his head; he couldn't dodge in time, and the blow landed true. However, he wasn't one to take a loss lightly, and he struck my chest with an open palm.

Everything happened in a heartbeat. We broke apart as quickly as we had collided. He glared at me, murderous intent in his eyes, but before he could charge, one of his men shouted, "Seventh Brother! The boat is leaving! We have to go!"

Seventh Brother gave me a thumbs-up, pointed downward, and turned to sprint toward the ship.

"Stop right there!"

I started to run, but a figure faster than me bolted past—it was Song Zhong. Seventh Brother glanced back, saw Song Zhong, and sneered, ignoring him as he continued to run. Song Zhong threw his stun baton with surprising accuracy, striking Seventh Brother in the back of the head. He tripped and sprawled onto the ground.

As he scrambled to stand, Song Zhong roared and kicked him in the back, forcing him down again. Song Zhong pinned him, but Seventh Brother was no ordinary man. With a sickening twist of his neck, he spat a cloud of black mist directly into Song Zhong’s face.

The mist seeped into Song Zhong’s eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He began to convulse, foaming at the mouth as he collapsed to the ground. Seventh Brother’s eyes were filled with murder, but seeing me closing in, he chose to abandon the fight and scramble toward the ship.

I reached Song Zhong’s side. He had been struck by *Yin* malevolence—cold and piercing. If left unchecked, it would enter his core and leave him crippled, if not dead.

"Damn it!"

I bit my finger and drew a Yang talisman on his forehead. Holding my fingers in a sword gesture, I chanted, "Supreme Yang breaks the Yin, driving away evil spirits; let Yang fire enter the body to protect the golden vessel! Obey this command immediately!"

As the Yang fire took hold, Song Zhong gasped, vomiting a cloud of black smoke. I stood up and resumed my chase toward Seventh Brother.

Just as the ship pulled away from the dock, I leaped onto the deck. Once aboard, I took a deep breath, unbuttoned my collar, and fanned myself, completely indifferent to the fact that I was now surrounded by Seventh Brother’s men.