The course of events was growing increasingly intriguing. Watching Fatty Lin struggle outside the car against those low-grade assassins, and then looking at the vehicle beside them completely frozen into a block of ice, Yang Yi felt an unprecedented sense of pity well up inside him. "People are just masochistic. Never mind their crooked thoughts; even that inability to properly navigate a turn suggests a critical failure."

"~~~~Boom~~~~"

A strange sound, punctuated by frequent footsteps and dancing silhouettes. Fatty Lin gripped his dagger, the blade flashing, each strike precise, taking down a man with a swipe across the throat. However, even if these were rank amateurs, assassins willing to kill for such paltry sums probably weren't highly skilled to begin with.

Playing around with pistols and knives, thinking those petty skills made one formidable enough to kill, perhaps even enough to make a living—that was amateur hour. A true assassin’s mindset should be about killing for the sake of killing; every action, every detail, meticulously planned. Where would you find an assassin who rashly executes a mission right after receiving the order?

Of course, certain assassins might be exceptions.

"Beep beep!"

The car horn blared twice. Fatty Lin, currently engaged in the fray, curled his lip. "I was hoping to play with you all a bit longer, but Brother Yi has given the command, hehe..."

The moment his voice faded, the Mizong Bu (Tracking Steps) technique erupted beneath his feet. His dagger sliced out, leaving faint afterimages; every flash of glinting steel was accompanied by a smear of crimson light. His speed and movement, clearly, had transformed entirely the instant the horn sounded.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"...

The assassins kept falling, perfectly illustrating the saying: 'Low-grade assassins meet low-grade ends.' Either a slash across the neck or a stab to the chest, they lay on the ground staring blankly, their eyes filled with unwillingness.

"Clap clap!" Fatty Lin stopped, dusted off his hands, and turned back. "Hehe, all done..."

Yang Yi, seated inside the car, watched, shook his head, and spoke to Fatty Lin as he slid back in. "Fatty, you must have had your fill tonight, eh?"

"Uh, Brother Yi, the way you say that sounds a bit... terrifying." Fatty Lin replied.

"Terrifying?"

Seeing Yang Yi's look of genuine confusion, Fatty Lin chuckled. "Yeah, it makes me sound like some bloodthirsty demon, always thinking about killing."

"Bloodthirsty demon?" Yang Yi paused at the moniker, then smiled. "That name sounds rather good, actually. Suits you well."

"Ugh—" Fatty Lin was taken aback, then helplessly shook his head, turning to Feng Shi. "Let's drive, Feng Shi. We should get back and rest properly; we have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Rare indeed. You actually realize there's much to do tomorrow?" Feng Shi looked at Fatty Lin as if discovering a new continent.

"Damn, don't underestimate me. Brother Yi handled so much today; how could tomorrow not be busy?" Fatty Lin pouted, then paused to ask, "Brother Yi, are you sure those two will report tonight's events up the chain?"

"Heh, don't waste your thoughts on it. That's nothing to worry about." Yang Yi let out a soft chuckle, his eyes flashing with an eerie light. Staring at the passing scenery, he moved his lips. "Tomorrow, regardless of whatever connections they have, those two will come looking for me."

"Hehe, since Brother Yi has it figured out, when should we officially make our move on the South?"

"No later than three days."

"Brother Yi, shouldn't we also guard against the Green Gang? After all, those two factions have already formed an alliance now!"

"An alliance?" Yang Yi scoffed internally, his coldness profound. "What alliance? It’s an alliance on the surface, but underneath, it’s still yours for you, and mine for me. It just means their immediate target is clearer!"

"Haha, I'm used to being the piece of meat others crave anyway," Fatty Lin laughed dismissively.

"…………"

Silence fell inside the car. Following Fatty Lin's last remark, the atmosphere became profoundly still. Yang Yi’s contemplative expression was filled with the feeling of a monarch playing with his empire, though what exactly he was thinking remained hidden.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

The Dragon Gang's headquarters was indeed in Macau, but Macau was vast. In the early Republic era, Macau had been occupied by the British, and in one specific district, there stood a high-grade dark palace—one the official authorities lacked the power or jurisdiction to access, as it remained entirely under British title.

This dark palace, once under British ownership, had now been transferred to the Dragon Gang, serving as its most crucial headquarters.

"Young Master Long, I have matters to report."

Seeing the professional beauty already back at work after waking up, Long Tian felt a twinge of guilt. He looked up at her somewhat pale complexion. "Xiao Yun, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just a bit dizzy. Much better now." The professional beauty smoothed her expression and offered a faint smile.

"Good, that's a relief."

"Young Master Long, I am fine, but the casino side seems to have encountered some trouble."

"What trouble?"

Hearing the word 'trouble,' Long Tian set down his items and frowned. "Could the Black God Gang's Dragon Lord be making a move?"

"According to our intelligence, someone won a significant amount of money at the casino tonight and caused quite a stir. Most importantly, this person’s name happens to be identical to the Black God Gang's Dragon Lord: Yang Yi." The professional beauty reported.

"Yang Yi, winning money at our casino? And causing a disturbance?" Long Tian pressed, questioning one point after another, as if utterly perplexed.

"Yes."

"Did he leave any other message?"

"No, based on the description from our staff, they only seemed intent on winning money. In the very first round, they walked away with tens of millions of US dollars."

"That part isn't the most important. The crucial thing is to figure out what he intends to do. Why gamble inexplicably at our casino tonight? Is it just about winning money?"

Is it?

Long Tian relentlessly questioned himself, but digging deeper yielded no answer as to the strategy. The professional beauty beside him felt the same way.

"Xiao Yun, what do you think about this matter..."

"Young Master Long, this situation is suspicious!"

"How so?" Long Tian asked.

"I can't quite articulate it. I just feel everything is messy, so chaotic that it feels like we are sinking into layer after layer of riddles, unable to grasp what he truly wants to achieve."

Long Tian glanced at the professional beauty’s strained face, knitted his brows, and said to her, "Alright, for now, let's not worry too much about his ultimate goal. Increase manpower to manage the situation. You're tired too; go rest first."

"Tian..."

"It’s alright, Xiao Yun. Seeing you like this pains my heart. Just rest for a while, okay? I'll handle the Dragon Gang's affairs!" Long Tian looked at the professional beauty with indulgent affection.

"En, I understand." The professional beauty realized she couldn't persuade him now, especially since she genuinely felt increasingly exhausted.

Only after the professional beauty left his office did Long Tian sit down, his expression heavy with thought. "It seems that fellow has several possibilities in mind, but which one is it? If I don't make the right arrangements quickly, things might get truly troublesome."

As the saying goes: Every move isn't just a move, every idea isn't just one idea. There are many maneuvers, and thus, many intentions.

What Yang Yi truly aims to do now is, at this moment, evident in its immediacy, but Long Tian simply hasn't grasped the depth of it yet.