Chapter Seventy-One: The Rabble

In Ling Tian’s memory, Wang Yong was someone who loved to show off and brag but lacked real ability. Now, however, it was as if he had become a different person altogether—he seemed taller, more imposing, and, true to his name, fiercely formidable.

“Big Brother, ever since I started following you, I’ve realized my life before was a waste. I’d rather live ten years with brilliance than a lifetime in mediocrity,” Wang Yong declared as he tore off his shirt, exposing layers of fat, especially around his belly, which trembled slightly from the excess, creating a rather comical sight.

Ling Tian chuckled. “You should lose some weight.”

Wang Yong scratched his head awkwardly. “I was just about to start working out. But first, I’ll use these bastards for practice.” As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Yong grabbed a chair and shouted at the approaching thugs, “The first one who steps up, I’ll smash to death!”

It is said that when fear reaches its peak, it turns to rage—this couldn’t be truer. At this moment, faced with the glinting blades, Wang Yong was genuinely terrified. A dozen men, each wielding a knife—once the fight began, it was no longer a joke. For Ling Tian and Wang Yong, the outcome could only be a bloody death, perhaps even without a whole corpse left behind.

Compared to Wang Yong’s frenzy, Ling Tian remained calm and jovial, holding a cigar between his fingers, his eyes surveying the encroaching thugs like a hunter sizing up his prey, filled with disdain. Back in the day, Ling Tian had faced ten heavily armed foreign mercenaries alone without so much as a frown, eventually picking them off one by one by leveraging the terrain.

Compared to those infamous mercenaries, these street punks were nothing but trash.

Protected by his underlings, Liu Zhiping took a deep drag of his cigar, pointed at Ling Tian, his face twisted with malice. “Kid, you love to gamble, don’t you? How about a wager now—bet on whether you can walk out of here alive?”

Ling Tian shook his head at Liu Zhiping with a sneer. “You’re not qualified to gamble with me.”

Wang Yong, who had just been scaring off the thugs, suddenly remembered Ling Tian’s heroic performance at the casino and asked curiously, “Big Brother, with the way you handled yourself in the casino, have you gambled before?”

Ling Tian blew a smoke ring and replied coolly, “Back in Africa, I used to gamble too, but not with money—with lives.”

With lives? What kind of game is that? Wang Yong’s heart skipped a beat, thoroughly frightened. Big Brother was truly extraordinary—even his gambling was in a league of its own.

“Do it!” Liu Zhiping, enraged by Ling Tian and Wang Yong’s casual banter, immediately gave the order. “Hack them to death and feed them to the dogs,” he added coldly. For someone with gang backing like Liu Zhiping, killing a man was nothing—a scapegoat could always be found to take the fall.

At Liu Zhiping’s command, a dozen men surged forward in a chaotic mess, their movements uncoordinated—a typical street gang brawl formation. Of course, these men were just that—street thugs. To Ling Tian, the scene was riddled with openings, nowhere near the discipline of the mercenaries he had once faced.

“Get down, I’ll handle this lot,” Ling Tian barked, tossing aside his cigar. With one palm, he pressed the desperate Wang Yong to the floor, then, like a tiger descending the mountain, he charged into the fray. He didn’t confront them head-on but deftly evaded their attacks, slipping through their ranks.

Emerging behind the group, Ling Tian showed no mercy—he kicked out three times in rapid succession, flooring the three closest to him. The others, realizing he was behind them, couldn’t stop in time and crashed into each other. Four men were injured by their own, while the rest staggered and fell.

Witnessing this pathetic spectacle, Liu Zhiping—who had only just been feeling smug—was nearly brought to tears. What was going on? These were his best fighters, yet Ling Tian took them down in a single move. Was Ling Tian too strong, or were his own men just too stupid?

“Are you all blind? Attacking your own men! Get up, he’s right behind you!” Liu Zhiping was frantic, his eyes bloodshot, hopping about in rage. He wanted nothing more than to take action himself, but recalling Ling Tian’s heavy-handedness, he lost his nerve.

Better to let his men handle the violence.

Like a hunter toying with his prey, Ling Tian weaved through the crowd with astonishing speed and agile footwork, never missing a chance to strike back. Each counterattack targeted the same spot—the small of the back. One hit would render an opponent completely immobile.

In less than half a minute, Ling Tian dusted off his hands, returned to his seat, picked up his cigar, and took two leisurely puffs. Smiling, he turned to Liu Zhiping. “I think it’s time we discussed settling your debt, don’t you agree?”

Liu Zhiping felt a wave of despair. What the hell was happening? He’d barely taken two puffs, and all his best fighters were down. Even slaughtering pigs didn’t happen this fast. “I agree. The debt has dragged on for too long. As compensation, I’m willing to add a million in interest—how does that sound?” Having only recently tasted power, Liu Zhiping now had no choice but to submit before overwhelming force.

Ling Tian shook his head and replied coolly, “Sorry, the price just went up. Principal and interest together, I want four million.”

In the blink of an eye, the price had increased by a million. Even someone as wealthy as Liu Zhiping was on the verge of collapse—this was extortion at its most savage.

Seeing Liu Zhiping’s look of shock and pain, Ling Tian’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Is there a problem?”

Liu Zhiping pleaded, “Big Brother, I’m just a small-time operator. I can’t make that much in a month. Could you go a little easier, or I’ll be bankrupt.”

Ling Tian responded calmly, “Since you put it that way, let’s make it this.” He held up five fingers.

At first, Liu Zhiping thought the amount would go down, but when he saw Ling Tian’s open palm, he wanted to die—another million added. But refusing would surely mean a beating, delivered with the same relentless force as before.

“I don’t have that much cash on hand right now. Can you give me some time to raise the money?” Taking out the cash would be painful, but refusing would be worse, so Liu Zhiping decided to stall for time. As long as he could appease Ling Tian for now, he’d have a chance to contact the higher-ups in the gang—once they got involved, everything would be back under control.