Chapter Seventy-Two: Reinforcements

Liu Zhiping glanced at his watch, hand raised. Ten minutes remained until the rescue team arrived. Once that expert showed up, everything would be under control. But for now, he had to stall for ten minutes—if Ling Tian lost his temper before then, his own life would be forfeit.

Delaying was simple for Liu Zhiping—wasn’t it just a matter of playing the fool? It wasn't as though he hadn’t done so before.

With this thought, Liu Zhiping plastered on a fawning smile and said to Ling Tian, “Big brother, I admit defeat today. Name your terms, I’ll agree to anything. But if the amount’s too large, I’ll need some time to gather the money. Would that be alright?”

Ling Tian said nothing, but stared at Liu Zhiping with icy eyes.

That stare made Liu Zhiping’s heart tremble, but he dared not let it show. Instead, he continued with an ingratiating grin, “Big brother, you see, I need some time to get the money together. If you find yourself bored, how about I arrange a few foreign beauties for you? The finest European girls in the city—their looks and figures are second to none, true standouts, each with an intoxicating exotic flair. I guarantee you’ll be thoroughly delighted.”

Just moments ago, he’d been brimming with bravado, and now he groveled like a lackey. Ling Tian didn’t believe for a second that Liu Zhiping was truly subdued. With his gangland connections, Liu Zhiping would never yield so easily. The man was clearly stalling for reinforcements. Well, that was fine—sooner or later, he’d have to deal with those underworld forces. Today might as well serve as a warning shot.

Having settled on his plan, Ling Tian took a slow draw from his aromatic Cuban cigar before speaking in measured tones, “If that’s the case, then go and gather the money. I’ll give you half an hour.” Turning to Wang Yong, he added, “There’s no point in you just sitting here. Why not let Liu Zhiping arrange a few foreign girls for you as well? The room across the hall should do.”

On the surface, he was sending Wang Yong off for some fun, but in truth, Ling Tian wanted him out of harm’s way—no reason for Wang Yong to get caught in the crossfire of the impending clash.

According to what Wang Yong and Xue Kun had told him, the gangs of Yunhai City had a long and deeply rooted history—even the four great families didn’t provoke them lightly. Whoever was coming would surely be far tougher than Liu Zhiping’s usual small-time thugs—these would be real professionals.

Wang Yong looked confused, unsure what Ling Tian meant, thinking perhaps he was being tested. He quickly replied, “Big brother, I’ll wait until after we’ve finished business before seeking out any foreign beauties.”

Ling Tian said curtly, “I told you to go, so you go. Enough talk. And remember—not to let Chinese men lose face in front of those foreign girls.”

Wang Yong grinned. “Don’t worry, big brother. They call me the Golden Spear that never falls—I can handle a few European ladies. I’ll make sure to do us proud.” With that, he placed his backpack in front of Ling Tian and left the room with Liu Zhiping.

It wasn’t long before Wang Yong returned, flanked by two sultry, curvaceous foreign women. He entered the room across from Ling Tian, pausing in the doorway to call out, “Big brother, I’ll go enjoy myself for a bit.” With that, he gave one of the women a playful slap on her shapely behind and, grinning mischievously, pulled them both into the room.

To Ling Tian, these women were of passable quality at best. When he’d been on missions, he’d encountered true beauties—female agents, mercenaries, huntresses—all roses with thorns. They might prick when picked, but the thrill had been incomparable.

Savoring his authentic Cuban cigar and surveying the room’s furnishings, Ling Tian curled his lips into a cold smile. A lackey would always be a lackey. For such a high-end establishment as Fukan Entertainment Club, Liu Zhiping’s office looked like a dog’s den. The only redeeming feature was the genuinely good cigars.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from beyond the door. Liu Zhiping’s steps were chaotic, but mingled with his were two sets of very deliberate, synchronized footfalls—each with identical weight and rhythm, almost mechanical in their precision. Ling Tian sneered to himself: So, Yunhai City does have its experts after all.

Liu Zhiping entered, standing respectfully off to the side. “Gentlemen, please.”

Two men followed him in—not tall, but powerfully built, with dark skin and piercing eyes. Their arms were as thick as most people’s thighs. The instant they entered, their gazes locked on Ling Tian, disdain written plainly in their eyes.

“These two are the ones extorting me. You must see justice done for me!” Liu Zhiping declared angrily, pointing at Ling Tian.

The two men took seats less than a meter from Ling Tian. One spoke: “You’ve got some nerve, coming here to extort money.”

The distance between them was well within the range of Ling Tian’s spiritual sense. Their muscles were dense, vitality brimming, temples pronounced—most telling were their hands, knuckles broad, thick calluses betraying years of fighting. These two clearly made their living with their fists. As for their skill? They were both at the threshold of the Qi Cultivation stage—in the mundane world, they were top-tier fighters.

“You haven’t introduced yourselves,” Ling Tian said calmly after sizing them up. With his current strength and skills, disposing of them would be easy. The gap between mid-stage Qi Cultivation and someone just approaching the threshold might seem slight, but in truth, it was a chasm.

Before the two could answer, Liu Zhiping interjected smugly, “Are you blind? I’m almost afraid to say their names out loud, for fear you’ll be scared to death. Listen up—on my left is Black Panther, on my right is Lone Wolf. With these two here, you’ll never leave alive.”

Black Panther? What is this, some kind of Water Margin fantasy?

“Oh, I’m just terrified. I’ve heard so much about you—sorry, what were your names again? I forgot as soon as I heard them.” Ling Tian grinned, his tone light but his eyes brimming with contempt. For all their training, these two probably couldn’t match even a moderately experienced mercenary who’d seen real blood.

Black Panther and Lone Wolf flushed with anger at his words. Liu Zhiping had just introduced them, and in seconds, Ling Tian claimed to have forgotten—how could that be called “famous as thunder”?

Lone Wolf stood, glaring coldly at Ling Tian. “Listen, friend. Don’t think that just because you know a few moves, you can cause trouble at Fukan. Your little skills are nothing to us.”

Black Panther, calmer than his companion, silently studied Ling Tian. Physically, he looked slender and unassuming, hardly the type. Yet his gaze was sharp, and for a moment, Black Panther felt as though his soul had been laid bare—a feeling that made his heart tremble.