Chapter 27: The Methods of the God of Slaughter

At that moment, Zhou Yuan and Gao Yang were consumed with hatred for Yang Fan. The two had thought they could leave safely, only to be blindsided by Yang Fan’s intervention.

Zhang Qingya and Mo Chenxi looked at Yang Fan with surprise; neither had expected him to step forward.

“Brother Yang Fan, don’t do anything reckless. They have numbers on their side,” Mo Chenxi pleaded with Yang Fan. Even though her own fate was uncertain, she didn’t want to see Yang Fan make a futile stand. After all, Zhou Yuansheng was the boss of the Imperial Nightclub, with a background that was anything but simple—nobody dared provoke him.

Zhang Qingya glanced at Yang Fan, feeling moved, but also thinking he was overestimating himself.

“If I say I’ll get you out of here, then I will get you out,” Yang Fan declared with unwavering determination, his tone proud.

Mo Chenxi and Zhang Qingya exchanged helpless smiles.

As for Gao Yang and Zhou Yuan, they regarded Yang Fan as if he were an idiot.

They both knew exactly what the situation was. For Yang Fan to utter such arrogant words now was nothing short of courting death.

“Well, well, you’ve got quite the mouth, kid. Do you think you know where you are?” Brother Fei sneered at Yang Fan, his face full of disdain. “Here, my boss calls the shots. Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

Brother Fei’s eyes were mocking, his heart full of contempt. The dozen or so thugs snickered, their eyes brimming with scorn.

Zhou Yuansheng crossed his legs and watched Yang Fan with interest. “You dare act tough in front of me, kid? Clearly, you don’t know what the word ‘death’ means. Here, I make the rules. Even if I chopped you up and tossed you in the sea for the fish, nobody would dare bother me.”

“Brother Zhou, why waste words on them? Just cripple them and dump them on the street,” Boss Wang said impatiently.

A guy dares to act tough here—he’s just begging for death.

Boss Wang knew Zhou Yuansheng’s power well. Even if he killed all these people, nothing major would happen. At most, he’d be investigated, then released as if nothing had happened.

“I intended to let you leave. But since you don’t know your place, each of you will lose a leg,” Zhou Yuansheng said, lifting a glass of wine and taking a sip, his tone slow and chilling.

Hearing they would be crippled, Zhou Yuan and the others blanched in terror.

“Brother Wu, I don’t know him. Please spare me,” Gao Yang begged, his face full of desperation.

“We really don’t know him. Don’t break my leg!”

“I don’t want to be crippled!”

Zhou Yuan and several other classmates all fell to their knees, pleading for mercy.

They truly wished they could kill Yang Fan themselves.

Yang Fan fixed his gaze on Zhou Yuansheng, his eyes glinting coldly, an invisible aura emanating from him.

“If all of you kneel and kowtow to apologize, then sever your own arm, I might consider letting you go,” Yang Fan’s tone grew icy.

At his words, Zhou Yuansheng’s lips curled into a contemptuous smile.

To him, the man before him was nothing but a fool.

“Damn it, if you want to die, fine—but don’t drag us down with you!” Gao Yang couldn’t stand it anymore and cursed at Yang Fan.

“We barely know you, don’t get us killed!” Zhou Yuan shouted angrily.

They truly wished they could butcher Yang Fan themselves.

Damn idiot—does he even know where he is? This is Zhou Yuansheng’s turf, and he dares to brag. Clearly, he’s asking for death.

Yang Fan’s gaze fell coldly upon Gao Yang and Zhou Yuan. As his eyes met theirs, both shivered involuntarily, as if encased in a chill.

They hurriedly lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.

They saw murderous intent in Yang Fan’s eyes.

“Yang Fan, are you insane? You’ll get yourself killed,” Zhang Qingya said angrily.

She now suspected Yang Fan’s mind was unhinged. Though she herself couldn’t escape, she felt uneasy at the thought of Yang Fan, an innocent, being beaten to death.

“Brother Yang Fan, apologize quickly,” Mo Chenxi urged.

“It’s too late now. An apology won’t save you,” Zhou Yuansheng said, swirling his wine glass nonchalantly.

“I’ll count to three. Release them immediately, or suffer the consequences,” Yang Fan’s expression was cold. “Three.”

Zhang Qingya and Mo Chenxi shut their eyes, unwilling to watch.

They didn’t want to witness Yang Fan being beaten.

As for Zhou Yuansheng and the others, they looked at Yang Fan as if he were utterly foolish.

“Two,” Yang Fan continued.

“Two my ass! I’ll cripple you first!” Brother Fei shouted, rushing at Yang Fan with a kick.

Yang Fan’s eyes turned cold, and his hand flashed out in a knife strike.

Bang!

A scream erupted.

Brother Fei was sent flying by a powerful force, crashing heavily into the wall. He felt as if his bones were about to shatter.

No one had seen clearly how Yang Fan struck; they only saw Brother Fei thrown across the room, then collapse.

Brother Fei clutched his right leg, howling in agony.

His leg had been broken.

“Hiss—”

Witnessing this, everyone drew sharp breaths, terror flickering in their eyes.

To break a man’s leg with a single blow—that required monstrous strength.

Zhang Qingya and Mo Chenxi were left open-mouthed, stunned.

They had expected Yang Fan to be beaten, not for Brother Fei to be crippled by him.

“You dare harm my people? You must be tired of living!” Zhou Yuansheng’s face darkened at the sight of his man injured. “Get him! Chop him into mincemeat!”

At the command, a dozen thugs drew their machetes and charged at Yang Fan, murderous intent on their faces.

“Ah!” Zhang Qingya and Mo Chenxi screamed, covering their eyes, unable to watch.

The others scrambled to the side, covering their heads in fear.

“Fools,” Yang Fan sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

He activated his techniques, and a fierce aura radiated from him, a murderous atmosphere enveloping the entire room.

He seized a thug’s wrist, snatched the machete, and what followed was a scene of blood and brutality.

Though more than a dozen men attacked Yang Fan, not one managed to touch him.

Each time Yang Fan struck, an arm would fly, accompanied by a pained scream.

Hearing the agonized cries, Zhang Qingya and Mo Chenxi felt terror grip their hearts.

The floor was stained red, the smell of blood saturating the room.

Boss Wang and Zhou Yuansheng were stunned, fear blooming in their eyes.

Staring at Yang Fan, now like a demon of carnage, both trembled, dread suffusing their souls.

Gao Yang and Zhou Yuan, sensing something was wrong with the screams, furtively opened their eyes for a peek—and were instantly confronted with a gruesome sight.

Both blanched, shock overwhelming them.

They could hardly believe Yang Fan had felled more than a dozen men without suffering a scratch.

Zhou Yuansheng hurriedly sent a text, calling for reinforcements.

Upon receiving the message, members of the Imperial Nightclub rushed over, each wielding a machete.

Yang Fan made no move to stop Zhou Yuansheng from summoning help.

He strode forward, a chilling smile on his lips.