If there were background music playing at that moment, only one song would suit Xiao Dingdang: "Freedom to Fly."

No one expected Wang Zhuo to dare fight back under such circumstances, and his opening move was a brutal one!

Wang Zhuo already possessed great natural strength, and this technique, using minimal force to repel a much greater one, was executed perfectly. Xiao Dingdang, whose daily routine consisted of internet cafes, bars, and instant noodles, probably didn't weigh even a hundred catties; consequently, he was instantly turned into a human projectile.

He looked graceful soaring through the air, but his landing was far less elegant: legs splayed awkwardly, nearly splitting him in half. His right foot, which landed first, twisted severely, causing him to clutch his ankle and roll on the ground in agony right then and there.

In the moment the shamate youths were stunned, Wang Zhuo broke free from the arm pinning him down, twisted sharply, inflicting intense pain on the attacker's limb, forcing him to turn his back. Wang Zhuo then delivered a kick to the lower back, sending him face-first into the ground.

That kick was utterly vicious. The shamate's face made shockingly intimate contact with the concrete pavement, leaving a bloody, mangled mess.

"Go to hell!"

In an instant, two of their brothers were neutralized, both seemingly requiring a trip to the hospital. The remaining shamates instantly went berserk, pulling out switchblades and grabbing bricks, swarming forward en masse!

"Damn it, this is insane!"

The three security guards watched, dumbfounded. The world had gone mad; someone being held at gunpoint still dared to counterattack with such sharp, high-level martial prowess!

Wang Zhuo shook off the shamate's grapple, shoved Liu Donghao aside—having him around was not only unhelpful but would just get in the way.

The burliest shamate swung a knife in a wide arc toward him. Wang Zhuo leaned aside to dodge, snapped his wrist, and attempted to disarm him, but couldn't pull the blade away immediately. The shamate took the opportunity to twist his wrist, aiming to slash Wang Zhuo's arm open.

Wang Zhuo swiftly retracted his hand and sidestepped just as half a brick whizzed past, slamming into his right shoulder. A wave of searing pain instantly shot through him, leaving his entire arm feeling numb.

Another shamate, seeing an opening, lunged forward with a switchblade. Wang Zhuo dove to the ground to avoid it; that thing was no joke—a strike to a vital spot could be fatal.

Anyone who understood fighting knew that a machete strike was intimidating but rarely lethal; a switchblade was different. If the wielder knew what they were doing, they aimed for safe zones, but a novice stabbing wildly could end a life in minutes.

This was precisely why Wang Zhuo hadn't wanted a protracted fight at noon. Otherwise, his nickname, "Action Director," wasn't earned for nothing. Even with five shamates against him, Wang Zhuo wasn't truly afraid.

Seeing Wang Zhuo cornered, the Knife Wielder became even more arrogant, pressing the attack, aiming every thrust at a vital spot. With the brick and machete attacks coming from the sides, Wang Zhuo's situation rapidly became perilous.

After taking another machete blow and two brick strikes, Wang Zhuo's eyes finally flashed with lethal intent. He suddenly threw a punch straight toward the Knife Wielder, deciding he would take a serious stab wound if necessary just to wrest the blade away—otherwise, he wouldn't leave this place alive!

"Whoosh!"

The punch whistled through the air, and the Knife Wielder instinctively recoiled to avoid it.

At that exact moment, a faint, almost imperceptible glint flashed deep within Wang Zhuo's eyes. Simultaneously, his iron fist changed trajectory, driving toward the Knife Wielder's right side!

"CRACK!"

As Wang Zhuo threw the punch, the Knife Wielder moved to dodge right, but the blow landed perfectly, smashing squarely into his nasal bridge. The crisp sound of breaking bone was chilling, and the Knife Wielder let out a howl, falling backward and losing his grip; the knife flew toward a dark corner deep in the alley.

All the shamates froze. It looked as if the Knife Wielder had willingly offered his face for the strike, or perhaps Wang Zhuo had predicted exactly where he would move to dodge!

In the surveillance room, Da Yang exclaimed first, "Damn, this kid is incredible! Was that just a lucky guess?"

Cheng Zi nodded in agreement, "It had to be luck. How else would he know which way the guy with the knife would dodge?"

Xiao Huang praised him enthusiastically, "He was gambling, but he won the bet."

Everyone assumed it was a fluke, including the shamates. But none of them saw the slight, cunning smirk that touched Wang Zhuo's lips as he retracted his fist.

That punch was no accident. In that instant, Wang Zhuo had used his X-ray vision to see through the Knife Wielder's body, tracking his muscle movements to anticipate his next action, achieving victory with a single strike against his most dangerous opponent!

"That's enough!"

A sharp command cut through the air. The man with the nose ring, who had been observing the entire engagement without participating, strode forward. After taking three steps, he raised the double-barreled shotgun he held, pointing the dark muzzle directly at Wang Zhuo's face. "You little punk, believe it or not, I'll blow you away right now! Kneel!"

Wang Zhuo looked at him with a cold smile, then suddenly raised his hand and slapped the face of the shamate still holding the machete.

The Machete Wielder staggered from the impact, nearly falling, and the machete clattered to the ground. When he turned his head, blood was already welling at the corner of his mouth.

The man with the nose ring became contorted with rage, pulling back the bolt on the shotgun. "Bastard, if you want to die, I'll grant your wish right now!"

"BANG!"

It wasn't the sound of a gun firing, but Wang Zhuo delivering a back-kick that took down another shamate who had been sneaking up behind him with a brick.

With that move, four shamates had now been taken out of the fight. Of the remaining three, the Machete Wielder had half his face swollen from Wang Zhuo's slap. The Nose Ring Man had already been dealt with by Wang Zhuo at noon; only the one holding the brick remained untouched by Wang Zhuo's hands.

However, despite clutching the brick, this young man was clearly bluffing, his forehead slick with cold sweat, his legs trembling visibly.

Wang Zhuo glanced at him, confirmed the boy wouldn't dare swing the brick, and then slowly sneered at the Nose Ring Man, "Go ahead and fire one shot."

"You..." The Nose Ring Man turned pale with shock.

Wang Zhuo snorted, took two swift steps, and snatched the shotgun away. Gripping the barrel in one hand and seizing his collar with the other, he swung the weapon down toward the man's head. "You scare me with an unloaded gun? Huh? Huh? Try scaring me again?"

With every "huh," the stock of the shotgun hammered heavily against the Nose Ring Man's skull. He screamed in agony but couldn't escape or evade the pain that pierced his very core.

After delivering more than ten solid blows, Wang Zhuo finally let go, kicking the battered, miserable Nose Ring Man aside. He then nodded toward Liu Donghao, who was standing there looking stunned.

"Haozi, what are you waiting for? Go on, get your revenge!"

"Go to hell!" Liu Donghao finally exploded, charging toward the only shamate Wang Zhuo hadn't touched—who happened to be the classmate who had instigated the trouble.

The shamate scrambled away but was eventually pinned down by Liu Donghao, who proceeded to kick him repeatedly until he was rolling on the ground, screaming.

His companions dared not speak out in anger, forced to watch their comrade get beaten because the ruthless man who had just taken on seven opponents was now holding the discarded machete, and no one knew if he was about to start slashing.

In the security monitoring room, the three guards exchanged glances. No one had predicted that the one-sided situation would result in such a stunning reversal, ending with seven aggressive youths armed with weapons being beaten down by a single student.

Xiao Huang looked perplexed. "Was that a fake gun?"

Cheng Zi zoomed in on the gun Wang Zhuo had thrown to the ground and studied it carefully for a long time. "Doesn't look fake. Maybe it just didn't have any bullets."

This hypothesis was universally accepted. Cheng Zi shifted the camera back to Wang Zhuo, shaking his head as he offered sincere praise. "He’s too ferocious. Daring to fight back when held at gunpoint—a true street fighter."

In reality, Wang Zhuo was not the kind of desperate fool who fought without caring for his own life.

Even a clay figure has three parts fire, let alone Wang Zhuo, nicknamed "Action Director." The shamates had provoked him repeatedly at first, forcing him to endure temporarily. But once he used his X-ray vision to confirm there were no bullets in the Nose Ring Man's shotgun, there was no reason to hold back any longer. That's why, when Xiao Dingdang struck a pose to look imposing before trying his splitting kick, Wang Zhuo decisively made his move!

To others, he looked like a reckless fool acting on a sudden impulse, not caring about his life. But they didn't know he had used X-ray vision to verify the gun was empty, allowing him to choose the perfect moment to strike—this was precision targeting!

"Drop your weapons and empty your pockets of anything valuable."

Seeing that Liu Donghao had vented enough of his anger, Wang Zhuo finally spoke.

The shamates exchanged glances and obediently laid down their weapons, beginning to pull things out of their clothing.

"You expect me to pick them up one by one? Put them all together!"

The shamates immediately complied. Soon, a small pile formed on the ground: cell phones, cash, watches, and various miscellaneous items. The Nose Ring Man even produced a PDA; clearly, he hadn't taken Wang Zhuo seriously at all, carrying that to a fight.

Wang Zhuo smirked and asked the Nose Ring Man, "Does this count as robbery?"

The Nose Ring Man's expression was worse than crying. "No, no. This is compensation for your medical fees."

Wang Zhuo nodded, thinking he was smart enough to yield. "Slap yourself ten times, then get out."

Soon, the quiet alley was punctuated by a series of crisp, slapping sounds. Wang Zhuo corrected the sound with a sharp look, forcing him to re-do the ten slaps, ensuring they were loud enough.

"Scram!"

The shamates fled in a terrified scramble. The Nose Ring Man tentatively tried to retrieve the shotgun but was deterred by Wang Zhuo's sharp gaze, forcing him to turn and flee instantly.

Once the shamates disappeared from sight, Wang Zhuo dusted off his clothes, tidied his disheveled hair, and walked over to pick up the shotgun.

Liu Donghao stepped closer to examine it. "It's an old gun, looks like it has some history. It’s definitely real."

"It should be worth a few thousand yuan; someone would collect this sort of thing," he assessed.

Wang Zhuo shook his head, looked around, and with a sweep of his hand, tossed the thousands of yuan over the high wall and into the neighboring residential courtyard.

Liu Donghao froze. "Hey? Why did you throw it away?"

"Dealing firearms is illegal," Wang Zhuo grinned at him. "If I don't throw it away, should I hand it over to the police officers?"

Liu Donghao scratched his head, secretly admiring Wang Zhuo. He'd extorted money and made them claim it was medical compensation, then threw away a gun worth thousands—his methods were flawless.

In the security monitoring room, Da Yang had already bolted out to retrieve the gun. Cheng Zi was still watching the live feed, while Xiao Huang was dismantling his mobile phone.

"Hey? What are you doing?" Cheng Zi asked.

Xiao Huang had already pulled out the memory card and inserted it into a reader. "Copying the video just now onto my phone to show my buddies."

Cheng Zi laughed heartily. "Great idea, send me a copy via Bluetooth! I want to show mine off too."