Abalone started, turning to look at the body that had struck him down. The man's neck was bent at an unnatural angle, his tongue lolling out—it was Ah Fa, who had followed him for five or six years, and by the looks of him, he certainly didn't appear alive!

It was then that a frigid terror began to surge wildly within Abalone. His entire body trembled involuntarily, and the hand gripping the gun suddenly felt an immense force, making him involuntarily divert the muzzle toward his own temple.

"I've always been fair in my dealings. You wanted to shoot me dead with this gun, is that it?"

Fang Senyan said to Abalone with utmost calmness.

Abalone finally cried out in horror, "No! Brother Yan, I was just..."

"Bang!" Abalone's plea for mercy was abruptly cut off by the sound of the gunshot. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. Incidents resulting in death during brawls like this were common here; the surrounding patrons had long since fled, so there were no expected screams, panic, or chaos. The murderous rage that erupted within Fang Senyan needed an outlet, and he unleashed it without restraint! All thoughts of secrecy or the Contract Agents were tossed aside. As for the police, he ignored them completely! If caution made him unable to settle scores or protect his family, what use was such immense power?

Fang Senyan casually tossed the gun aside and strode out. Blood still stained his shoes, resulting in a gruesome trail of bloody footprints with every step initially, but after a few more paces, the stains vanished. Having killed four people, the fiery turbulence in Fang Senyan’s heart had not subsided; instead, it raged higher. That twisted killing intent, born from concern for his family, was not something a few lives like Abalone’s could extinguish. Unless Crab was dead and Three-Zi was rescued, the hatred in his heart could not be quelled!

Fang Senyan turned the street corner, leaving the gasps and commotion behind him, and hailed a taxi.

"Temple Street," he said. "Thank you, please drive swiftly."

... Less than half an hour later, Fang Senyan jumped out of the taxi. He slammed the door shut behind him and tossed a banknote inside. He wasn't familiar with Temple Street, but he knew it was a very common, working-class area, teeming with open-air food stalls and a mix of unsavory characters—lively and bustling. Since Brother Crab had risen by betraying his boss and had ties with the Vietnamese, he likely wasn't an unknown entity here. Fang Senyan casually found a loitering man, stuffed a hundred dollars into his hand, and learned that Brother Crab was most likely presiding over a gambling den at that moment.

Fang Senyan nodded upon hearing this, inquired about the location of the den, and then walked directly toward it.

The gambling den was hidden down a secluded side alley, masked by a small general store set up outside. Two large men squatted near the entrance, smoking, occasionally glancing toward the alley mouth every few minutes.

But clearly, the police understood the principle that where there is profit, there will be corruption; they only made occasional sweeps when things got too heated. Fang Senyan strode inside. The two men squatting by the door had likely seen countless gamblers wander in uninvited; they didn't even spare him a glance, continuing their conversation and laughter, treating Fang Senyan as mere air.

When Fang Senyan entered the den, he found the place pitifully small—only two rooms, likely the original bedroom of the shop owner, now crammed with five or six tables. Thick, choking smoke permeated the air, and Fang Senyan could no longer move freely. A large fellow, deeply engrossed in smoking, stepped in front of him and growled menacingly, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Fang Senyan stated calmly, "Is Crab here?"

The big fellow snorted through his nose, jutted out his chin, and jabbed his index and middle fingers aggressively toward Fang Senyan’s chest. "Are you in a position to mention Brother Crab's name?"

As he spoke, he viciously ground his cigarette butt toward Fang Senyan's face! Fang Senyan snatched his wrist, slowly applying pressure. Cold sweat immediately beaded on the large man’s face as he twisted his body, screaming, "Dali, Blackie! Hurry up and come chop someone! And call Brother Crab over too!"

The gamblers instantly turned to stare at the commotion. Fang Senyan said coolly, "This is a matter of the underworld. If you don't want to get splashed with blood, get out of here immediately!"

Hearing this, the gamblers bolted, scattering in a rush. They came for amusement, not trouble. Even watching carried the risk of being questioned by the police and getting dragged into the precinct to catch bad luck. In less than a minute, the place was cleared out, leaving only Crab’s thugs behind.

Fang Senyan looked up and flashed a toothy grin. "You’re all Crab’s muscle, right?"

Before the words fully faded, a distinct, muffled crack echoed from the wrist he held tightly.

It was the sound of bone snapping!

Then, the thug Dali cursed angrily from behind and brought a heavy steel pipe down hard on Fang Senyan’s head. But Fang Senyan’s eyes blazed with ferocity, and he countered with a backhand slap across Dali’s face!

One steel pipe strike versus one slap!

Which was heavier?

Most people would instinctively choose the steel pipe, but the brutal reality was that the man hit by the pipe stood there unaffected, while the man hit by the slap was sent flying two or three meters, blood streaming from his eyes, nostrils, and ears. His neck was twisted impossibly, his cervical vertebrae likely fractured—he was breathing in only, with no breath out.

That single slap instantly stunned everyone present.

Next, other thugs, unconvinced, rushed forward, but without exception, Fang Senyan killed one instantly upon engagement! The man died gruesomely, with his guts spilled out.

When the body count inside the room rose to four, the remaining two thugs collapsed, weeping hysterically and dropping to their knees to beg for mercy. Strictly speaking, their endurance was remarkable; in ancient warfare with cold weapons, armies usually broke when casualties surpassed a certain ratio, and those who held on until half were lost were considered elite forces. These two thugs held out until they reached a casualty rate of nearly half before breaking—in terms of fighting spirit and morale, they were comparable to the backbone warriors of the Qi or Yue armies.

Fang Senyan shook the blood from his hands and said coldly, "Do you two want to live or die? Living is simple: call Crab right now. Lie if you want, tell the truth if you prefer! Once Crab arrives, I’ll let you both go. Dying is even simpler: I’ll wait ten minutes for Crab. When ten minutes are up, I start killing!"...

So, when Crab arrived at the gambling den in a hurry, the remaining two thugs reacted as if seeing their long-lost parents, tears streaming down their faces, letting out inexpressible yells as they scrambled and crawled away from Fang Senyan.

Crab was a large man, with triangular eyes, thin lips, and a generally severe look. Upon entering the den and seeing the several corpses lying strewn about in gruesome states, his face immediately twisted. He instinctively reached inside his coat, clearly going for a gun. He hadn't come alone; two lean men followed him, their faces lined, skin tanned, and their index fingers calloused—clearly experienced gunmen. They began drawing their weapons simultaneously: aim!

Fang Senyan sat nonchalantly on a nearby chair, about five or six meters away, allowing three black muzzles to point directly at him. Lacking the Toughness talent, he admittedly feared concentrated fire from gunmen, but that applied to semi-automatic rifles! With his current base Strength of 23, Health reaching 330 points, plus about 32% damage absorption, the killing power of the .38 revolvers these three held was utterly beneath his notice.

"Who are you? Why are you in my establishment?" Perhaps emboldened by having a gun pointed at someone, Crab spoke with newfound bravado, roaring loudly!

Fang Senyan leaned back in his chair, lazily stating, "There’s someone named Three-Zi you’ve captured, right?"

A spark flashed in Crab’s eyes. After exchanging glances with the two gunmen beside him, he sneered, "That’s right! We slapped that little brat around, kicked him a few times, stuffed his head in the toilet for a few minutes, and he immediately told us the color of his underwear! He’s probably still crying now! Hahaha!"

The fingers gripping the chair arms tightened. Fang Senyan then said calmly, "How did you catch him?"

Crab roared, "I have a gun pointed at you right now! Do you think you’re the CIA taking my statement?"

Fang Senyan lightly countered, "Do you think you’re safe just because you have a gun pointed at me?"

Saying this, he suddenly stood up and flung the stool beneath him toward the three men in front of him! Crab scrambled to dodge, but the two gunmen were ruthless veterans with extensive combat experience; seeing the sudden move, they pulled the triggers without hesitation!

Amidst the shrill gunfire, Fang Senyan shielded his head and lunged forward with explosive, beast-like power. He slammed a fist into one gunman’s chest! A distinct crackling sound of shattering bone followed immediately. The gunman’s chest instantly collapsed inward, flat like a crater, and a spray of blood and dark red, shattered organs erupted from his mouth! His expression was still fixed in fury and disbelief, unable to even register pain before he dropped dead on the spot!

The other gunman only survived for three more seconds. He emptied his clip into Fang Senyan and then maniacally reversed his gun, smashing the butt toward Fang Senyan’s head. Fang Senyan viciously jerked his head upward, and the gun shattered into pieces with a sharp crack, while Fang Senyan’s head only sustained a scrape. Next, Fang Senyan kicked the man's shin, eliciting a piercing scream of agony!