The third update is here, yet we only have one monthly ticket? .........

The night was seductive, and Wang Zhuo's desperate counterattack was about to unfold. In the backyard of the Red House, two young men dressed as security guards sat by the gate, sharing a dish of salted peanuts and drinking beer.

Although their attire suggested they were security, their posture was anything but professional, hinting at the peculiar nature of the Red House. Before entering, Wang Zhuo activated the camera function on his Apple phone.

Even if it recorded nothing substantial in his pocket, any captured footage might prove useful later. Danger loomed, yet his state of mind grew calmer and steadier—a composure honed by years of fighting.

Sometimes, evading a thrusting dagger or a flying brick hinged on a single thought; only the cool-headed survive. Concealing three pistols—one behind his back, two in his pockets—Wang Zhuo straightened his clothes and stepped out from the shadows beneath a tree, walking directly toward the main gate.

Seeing him, one guard started, calling out, "Hey, who are you?" Wang Zhuo shot him an irritated glance and kept walking without a word. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" the guard called again, though he didn't stand up.

He didn't feel anything would happen; the Red House had powerful backing, rumored to be close to his own age, and the boss had been running this place for over twenty years without incident. What was there to fear?

"I'm with Brother Wang." Wang Zhuo sneered dismissively and brushed past the two guards. He was gambling on the complexity of the Red House's personnel; these guards wouldn't recognize every 'brother,' and 'Wang' was a common surname, making a lucky guess plausible.

After he passed, the first guard quietly asked his companion, "Wasn't Brother Wang's crew in the front yard?" The other guard waved a hand dismissively, "How should I know? Drink up, ignore this kind of arrogant fool trying to ride on someone else's coat-tails." Wang Zhuo listened closely.

He had initially planned to feign needing the restroom in the yard to show familiarity with the surroundings. Seeing the guards paid him no mind, he went straight into the building.

Once inside, he immediately engaged his X-ray vision to full capacity, gaining an intricate, three-dimensional understanding of everything within a dozen meters—obstacles, scenery, and people—surpassing even the daily familiarity of those who worked there. He skillfully bypassed two people descending the stairs behind a screen, confirmed the area was clear, and quickly stepped into the elevator.

This elevator only serviced the ground floor to the seventh floor directly, clearly intended for internal use by the Red House personnel. This meant fewer users, but conversely, an encounter inside posed a greater risk of exposing his identity.

As soon as he entered, Wang Zhuo turned his body away from the direction of the surveillance camera. He had already used his vision to confirm its exact location beforehand; by positioning himself this way, the control room couldn't see his face.

His fear wasn't about later retribution, but about the trouble that would arise if his identity was suspected mid-operation. The elevator ascended to the seventh floor, but as it passed the third floor, Wang Zhuo's heart dropped.

Through the sealed cabin and floorboards, he saw seven young men approaching the elevator—the same group that had previously abducted Gan Lin, plus the three men who had escorted Gan Lin and another woman upstairs. The arrow was loosed; a meeting at this direct-access elevator was now unavoidable.

Wang Zhuo clenched his fist tightly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. "Ding." The elevator stopped, and the heavy metal doors slid open with a whoosh.

The bald man and Blacky, along with the others, paused upon seeing a strange face emerging from the lift. "Hey, heading down?" Wang Zhuo greeted them with a smile, drawing his left hand from his pocket to wave briefly, nodding his head.

"Ah, heading down." Xue Guangtou subconsciously replied, nodding back. Among the seven, four nodded in acknowledgment to Wang Zhuo.

The other three, seeing their companions greet him, assumed they knew each other. Long Face and Mountain Duck naturally stepped back, yielding space for Wang Zhuo to exit.

Wang Zhuo smiled and nodded again, slipping lightly between them. The leader, Xue Guangtou, had already stepped into the elevator, followed closely by Long Face, who casually asked, "Brother Xue, who was that kid?

I don't think I've seen him before?" "I don't know him." Xue Guangtou blinked, then turned to Mountain Duck, "Do you know him?" Mountain Duck’s eyes darted back and forth dubiously. "He looks a bit familiar." Blacky, the last one to enter the elevator, grew instantly alert, grabbing the closing door button and asking, "None of you know him?" Everyone shook their heads.

Xue Guangtou immediately cursed, and the group scrambled quickly out of the elevator. Having lost only ten-odd seconds, Wang Zhuo was already jogging toward the door of the room where Gan Lin and the other woman were held.

He pulled a stripped length of single-core copper wire from his shirt pocket, twisted it a couple of times, and began inserting it into the keyhole of the spherical lock. Urgent footsteps sounded behind him.

Aided by his X-ray vision, Wang Zhuo struggled to manipulate the lock tumbler. Unfortunately, he had never done anything like this before; despite his innate advantage, his technique was terrible, and the lock remained stubbornly shut.

"What are you doing?" A harsh question came from behind. Wang Zhuo naturally turned, stood up, and replied with a faint smile, "The lock is broken, fixing it." "Bullsh*t!" Long Face was the second to charge up, demanding fiercely, "Say who you are!" A young man beside him had already grabbed an intercom and was using the full-channel broadcast feature to inquire about the situation.

"I'm with Brother Wang." Wang Zhuo deployed his small trick again. "Who are you trying to fool?

Wang Zheng's men never come to the back courtyard." Xue Guangtou, who had caught up, sneered and waved his hand, "Beat him up first!" Wang Zhuo's infiltration plan had failed at this point. There were seven of them, and people in nearby rooms were chatting or watching TV.

Any physical confrontation would immediately escalate the situation beyond control. Just as Blacky, Long Face, and the others were preparing to rush him, Wang Zhuo roared, and a dark, clumsy object appeared in his hand.

"Don't move!" The thugs froze instantly. Being pointed at by a dark muzzle was deeply unsettling, but the question remained: was this gun real or fake?

"Back off!" This command had little effect; only Mountain Duck instinctively took a step back. Seeing no one else move, he cautiously shuffled half a step forward again.

"Kid, where did you pull that from? Trying to scare us with a fake gun?" Xue Guangtou spoke coldly.

He knew that Wang Zheng's few key men only possessed some hunting rifles and one imitation Type 54 pistol. The Six-Four handgun in the intruder's hand looked more like standard police issue and could never be connected to Wang Zheng.

Wang Zhuo knew the gun in his hand had limited deterrent effect; imitation firearms were rampant these days, sold on street corners. The only way to convince these hooligans he held a real gun was to fire a shot.

"Back off." "Bang!" The shot rang out. The bullet seemed to have eyes, striking the spherical lock on the door beside Mountain Duck.

The tumbler bent, and the occupant inside, who had already heard the commotion, was prevented from coming out to investigate. Even among pistols, the Six-Four was relatively low-powered.

In this enclosed space, the sound was like a slightly louder firecracker, but it was the sound of live ammunition. Terrified, Xue Guangtou and the others retreated rapidly, scrambling back five or six meters.

That single gunshot echoed throughout the entire Red House, instantly causing a stir. Wang Zhuo's X-ray vision showed many people mobilizing, preparing to handle any sudden emergency.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Three more shots followed, hammering the lock on Gan Lin's holding room. The wood near the frame splintered apart.

Wang Zhuo brought his foot up and kicked hard, shattering the tightly bolted door open. Inside the room, Gan Lin had just been jolted awake by the gunfire.

Her wide, frightened eyes darted around. Suddenly, she saw Wang Zhuo storm in brandishing a handgun and instinctively tried to speak.

"Don't say my name!" Wang Zhuo urgently shouted to stop her, rushing to her side, placing the gun on the floor, and beginning to untie the ropes around her wrists. The other woman beside her let out muffled cries.

Wang Zhuo spared her a quick glance in his haste, hardening his heart against her pleading gaze. The entire seventh floor held over a dozen such rooms, imprisoning more than a dozen women, some deranged, some lame.

Wang Zhuo wasn't even sure he could rescue Gan Lin, let alone everyone else. The ropes on her wrists were quickly undone.

Wang Zhuo snatched the gun and pointed it toward the doorway, successfully scaring off a head that had been peeking out. "Where are we?" Gan Lin forced down her panic, struggling with the restraints on her ankles.

She was naturally not strong, and her wrists had been bound for so long that her fingers were numb. "We'll talk when we get out." Wang Zhuo wiped the sweat from his brow, holding the gun in one hand while freeing the other to work on her leg ropes.

In the corridor, Xue Guangtou and his men had already armed themselves. Some held machetes over a meter long, others carried daggers or metal baseball bats.

Xue Guangtou, leading them, held a double-barreled shotgun, loading shells into it. "Brother Xue, what now?" Long Face also wiped a bead of nervous sweat.

He had been a low-level hoodlum for nearly ten years and wasn't new to gun violence, but this was the first time a gun had been pointed at him. "We absolutely cannot let him escape," Xue Guangtou whispered.

"The Six-Four has seven rounds; he's used four. We'll pretend to approach him, force him to fire a warning shot, and once he's out of ammo, we charge and take him down." "Don't be afraid," Xue Guangtou encouraged, seeing his subordinates hesitating.

"The Six-Four is a small caliber, about as powerful as a bottle rocket. Even if it hits, it'll only leave a shallow, fingernail-sized hole; you won't die unless it hits the head or heart." Blacky swallowed hard and asked quietly, "Brother Xue, should we really kill him?" "It's best if we get him alive; if that fails, then..." Xue Guangtou decisively made a throat-slitting gesture.