Chapter 43: Taking Action

Yang Fan stood at the mouth of the alley, his gaze fixed on Wang Gang within.

His impression of Wang Gang was still rather favorable.

The people inside the alley glanced at Yang Fan when they suddenly noticed someone appear.

"Get lost! If you don't want to die, stay far away!" a man shouted at Yang Fan, his face twisted with menace.

Had it been any ordinary person, witnessing this scene, they would surely have fled. But Yang Fan did not run; he stood calmly in place.

He offered no reply, his eyes locked on Wang Gang.

Wang Gang hadn't expected to encounter Yang Fan here; a look of surprise flickered across his face.

"Brother, you should go," Wang Gang said to Yang Fan, his voice weak, blood still dribbling from his lips.

"I told you, I owe you a favor," Yang Fan replied coolly. "Do you want me to repay that favor now?"

Wang Gang was momentarily taken aback.

He couldn't quite grasp what Yang Fan meant by those words.

Given the current situation, he couldn't handle it himself, let alone expect Yang Fan, just an ordinary man, to make a difference.

"Brother, if you want to repay me, then hurry up and run. Call the police while you're at it—hopefully, they'll get here in time," Wang Gang said with a bitter smile.

He hadn't thought Yang Fan would be able to save him.

"Finish him," a man barked when he saw that Yang Fan wouldn't leave.

Yet Yang Fan showed no sign of fear. Instead, he began to walk slowly into the alley.

He paid no mind to the two men charging at him.

Seeing that Yang Fan wasn't running but walking straight in, the men inside were puzzled. Did this kid really not fear death?

But what happened next left everyone stunned.

The two men slashed at Yang Fan with machetes, their attack fierce and ruthless.

No one saw how Yang Fan moved. Before either attacker could get close, they were sent flying.

Their machetes clattered to the ground, and their bodies were hurled more than ten meters away, where they lay writhing in agony.

Everyone present was shocked by the sight.

Wang Gang was inwardly astounded.

He hadn't expected Yang Fan to be so formidable.

Thinking back to the time he'd helped Yang Fan teach a lesson to those thugs, Wang Gang realized he'd been meddling unnecessarily.

He was now certain that if Yang Fan had stepped in back then, those thugs wouldn't have lasted a single move.

A flicker of hope rekindled in his heart—perhaps he could be saved after all.

Seeing their own men felled by Yang Fan, more than twenty others immediately surged forward to surround him.

"Brother, I advise you not to meddle in things that don't concern you. We're not people you can afford to cross," a middle-aged man stepped forward, his gaze cold and sinister.

Watching Yang Fan drop two men in an instant, the middle-aged man realized this newcomer had some skill.

But fear did not take root; rather, he was simply uncertain of Yang Fan's background.

Ignoring the man, Yang Fan fixed his eyes on Wang Gang and asked, "Do you want these men crippled, or all dead?"

His tone was calm, but there was a chilling menace behind his words.

Though over twenty men stood before him, to Yang Fan they were like ants—utterly insignificant.

Hearing such arrogance, the middle-aged man's face darkened.

"Kill him! Chop him into mincemeat!" he ordered his men.

At his command, over twenty people charged with machetes, their assault ferocious.

They were all gangsters, men with nothing to lose.

"I'll take your silence as consent. I'll kill them all," Yang Fan said quietly.

He took a step forward, leaving a deep footprint in the ground. The surroundings quivered as if shaken by an earthquake.

With that, he surged into the crowd and began his slaughter.

The first man to dash at him was unlucky—Yang Fan's hand struck like a blade, snapping the man's arm and rendering him useless.

Snatching up a machete, Yang Fan became a hungry wolf among sheep, unleashing a bloody massacre.

His energy flowed through him, movements swift and ghostly.

The machete in his hand flashed with cold light; every swing sent a crimson arc through the air, followed by a scream.

Seeing Yang Fan fell several men in an instant, the others—those who hadn't yet charged—turned deathly pale.

The remaining dozen or so watched him, tense and terrified, not daring to make a move.

They sensed in this young man a terrifying aura that chilled them to the bone.

"What are you waiting for? Go! Move!" the middle-aged man shouted, fear creeping into his voice.

Watching Yang Fan slaughter his men with ease, the man's heart quivered with dread.

But before his men could react, Yang Fan moved.

Like a phantom, he struck.

Within seconds, someone had their throat slit, blood spraying everywhere.

"He's a demon! This guy is a demon!" someone screamed.

Seeing the ruthlessness of Yang Fan's methods, the dozen or so remaining men were so terrified their legs went weak. None dared approach, and some even tried to run.

Yang Fan gave them no chance. He was a reaper, harvesting lives without mercy.

Wang Gang stared blankly at the carnage, stunned to his core. "So he's this powerful... even the instructor from my special forces unit wouldn't stand a chance against him," he thought.

Realizing Yang Fan's terrifying strength, Wang Gang was convinced that not even his old instructor from his days as a special forces soldier could best him.

When the screams finally faded, over twenty corpses were strewn across the alley. Some were missing limbs, others had been decapitated.

The ground was awash with blood, the stench nauseating.

Yang Fan's gaze settled on the middle-aged man, a flash of coldness in his eyes.

In a panic, the man pulled a pistol from his jacket and fired at Yang Fan.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed through the alley.

When the sound died away, Wang Gang saw that Yang Fan was unharmed.

The middle-aged man, however, had the broken tip of a machete embedded in his forehead, blood streaming down his face.

His eyes were wide in death, never knowing how his end had come.

At the instant the man fired, Yang Fan had flung his machete to intercept the bullet, the force snapping the blade. The flying tip then shot straight into the man's forehead.

Wang Gang could hardly believe what he had witnessed—he was shaken to his core.

He simply could not fathom how Yang Fan could not just face a gun, but kill a man wielding one.

"This isn't a place to linger," Yang Fan said.

He moved to Wang Gang's side, helped him up with one arm, and quickly disappeared down the far end of the alley.

Before long, the wail of sirens filled the air as a dozen police cars pulled up at the mouth of the alley.

When the officers saw the carnage inside, they blanched in horror; some even vomited on the spot.

The scene was too gruesome, severed limbs scattered everywhere.

The police quickly sealed off the area and suppressed the news to prevent public panic.

Yang Fan took Wang Gang to a safe place to rest.

By then, Wang Gang was covered in wounds—slashes everywhere, some so deep that bone showed through.

Blood soaked his entire body; he was a man of blood, seemingly beyond saving.

"Don't worry about me. I can't hold on much longer," Wang Gang said weakly.

With his injuries, unless he made it to a hospital, survival was out of the question.

But going to a hospital would certainly alert the police.

"Relax, you won't die," Yang Fan replied calmly.

He produced a vial of medicine and handed it to Wang Gang.