Zhang Cheng leaned back in his chair, his gaze calmly fixed on the young man known as "Brother Bao".

"I'll give you two hours."

His voice was soft, yet it sounded like an ice pick piercing the eardrums of everyone present.

"Two hours have passed, and we still can't find anyone."

“They,” Zhang Cheng’s gaze swept over the pale-faced locals in the private room, “are going to report to the King of Hell.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he gave Zhang Jianhao a wink.

Zhang Jianhao understood immediately, grabbed Bao Ge's arm, dragged him out of the private room like a dead dog, and casually tossed him aside.

Outside the door, Bao Ge, who had been all smiles and fawning just moments before, turned ashen-faced as soon as he stood still, his eyes flashing with malice.

"Brother Bao, what's going on inside?"

"Who are those out-of-towners?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Bao Ge lowered his voice and let out a low, beast-like growl, his teeth grinding together.

"Call all the brothers over here!"

"yes!"

Seeing this, the thugs around knew something serious had happened, and they rushed out of the shop with ferocious expressions, instantly filling the air with a tense atmosphere as if a storm was brewing.

The gamblers playing cards in the shop also sensed something was wrong, and they all dropped their pai gow and mahjong sets and fled in a panic.

A moment later.

Thirty or forty thugs, wielding gleaming machetes and heavy steel pipes, surged back like a tide, filling the small shop to the brim.

Bao Ge stared intently at the tightly closed door of the private room, his chest heaving violently as he struggled internally.

Should we rush in and chop those arrogant out-of-towners into mincemeat, or...?

Inside the private room, however, the atmosphere was completely different.

Zhang Cheng casually tossed the dark, heavy pistol onto the table, as if it were just a lighter.

He leisurely lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, looked at Sun Xiaojin who was being held firmly on the table, and asked with a smile:

"Gentlemen, do me a favor and find Nian Long from Tianyuan Shoes."

"If you find the person, each of you will receive five thousand yuan."

"How about it?"

Pressed down by Li Panfu's iron-like hand, Sun Xiaojin felt his facial bones groaning. Hearing this, he suddenly raised his hand and frantically pounded the table, squeezing out the words through clenched teeth: "Brother! I promise! I promise you!"

Zhang Cheng gestured with his chin towards Li Panfu.

Li Panfu released his grip.

Sun Xiaojin felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He straightened up abruptly, panting heavily, rubbing his numb cheeks, and looked at Zhang Cheng with a bitter smile on his face.

"Brother, if you're looking for someone, just say so! Why... why make such a fuss?"

"If you had told us you were giving us five thousand yuan earlier, we brothers would have been eager to be your legs!"

A faint, ambiguous smile appeared on Zhang Cheng's lips.

"I came here and immediately offered money. I guess your intention wasn't to help me find someone, but to just rob me, right?"

He flicked off his cigarette ash and said slowly, "As the old saying goes, don't flaunt your wealth. If you really want to show it off, you have to flex your muscles first. If I don't demonstrate it, and you really treat me like a fat sheep to be slaughtered, who can I complain to?"

Ouyang Tian, ​​standing nearby, forced a smile and said, "Brother, you're overthinking it. We just like playing a couple of hands of cards; we're not gangsters..."

“I still think,” Zhang Cheng said seriously, “it’s safer to make an example of someone first.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Heng, whose lips had been slapped until they were bloody and mangled, began to twitch violently.

So... I'm the fucking chicken?

"Of course, I understand the principle of giving a reward after a beating even better."

Zhang Cheng raised his chin, gesturing to the pile of cash on the table.

"Take this money; consider it a deposit."

"Once we find Nianlong, the remaining five thousand will be paid in full."

"But what if you take the money and don't do any work..."

Instantly, everyone's eyes in the private room fell on Zhao Heng's miserable face.

Depend on!

Zhao Heng cursed inwardly, wanting to say something polite, but his mouth was in excruciating pain as soon as he opened it, and blood flowed out uncontrollably.

He wanted to yell: "If you're looking for someone, just say so! If you want to play cards, play them properly! Why are you hitting me in the mouth?!"

Zhang Cheng raised his eyelids and said to Zhang Jianhao, "Open the door."

"Okay."

Zhang Jianhao grinned and reached out to open the door.

Outside the door, Bao Ge, who was hesitating whether to lead his men in an attack, was startled by the sudden opening of the door.

His gaze swept past Zhang Jianhao and locked onto Zhang Cheng, who was sitting comfortably inside the room. He gritted his teeth and said, "Friend, I kindly invited you to play cards, and this is how you repay me? You ruined my place and slapped me in the face?"

Zhang Cheng didn't even look at him, only tilting his head slightly towards Zhang Jianhao.

"Pay back money."

Zhang Jianhao understood immediately, took out five hundred yuan from his pocket, and strode over to Brother Bao.

"Take it!"

He shoved the money into Bao Ge's hand, then turned around nonchalantly, standing guard at the door of the private room like a door god.

Brother Bao gripped the ten fifty-yuan bills tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, his face as black as the bottom of a pot.

This is fucking shoving a beggar!

Facing Bao Ge's murderous gaze, Zhang Cheng didn't even bother to get up, simply pointing with his chin at the pistol on the table.

"Would you choose a gun or money?"

"Heh...you're threatening me?"

Enraged, Bao Ge laughed and took a step forward. Behind him, more than thirty thugs surged forward, clashing knives and clubs, their killing intent palpable.

Zhang Jianhao, however, remained unconcerned and leisurely pulled out a pistol from his lower back.

He didn't point the gun at anyone; he simply brought it to his lips and blew on it gently, as if blowing away dust.

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