Chapter Seventy-One: Facing the Many with the Few

Hong Chen's eyes narrowed slightly, a silver needle flickered between his fingers, ready to be released. But suddenly, his hand paused and the needle vanished.

The man in blue struck with a knife hand, but his attack was abruptly cut off as Gao Tianxiong charged back into the fray, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. He seized the blue-clad man's throat, unleashing a surge of internal force.

Confronted by Gao Tianxiong's desperate assault, the blue-clad man dared not neglect him. He immediately flung Er Hu toward Gao Tianxiong. Gao's force, released externally, was suddenly withdrawn, too violently, causing internal backlash. His organs felt shaken, as if displaced. He opened his mouth and spat a mouthful of blood.

With a light palm strike, he sent Er Hu tumbling to the side and, after a few swift dodges, arrived beside A Le. Lowering his gaze, he saw A Le's nearly destroyed right arm and his chest collapsed like an overturned bowl. Pain flickered in Gao Tianxiong's eyes.

He discreetly glanced at Hong Chen, who sat calmly and composed, which eased his mind slightly. Finally, he looked up at the blue-clad man, his face darkening with anger. "He hasn't even developed internal force. He has no enmity with you. Your actions are far too cruel."

The young man wore a proud expression, his tone cold. "The weak must accept their weakness. Dare to attack me, and surviving is already a blessing."

With a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes, he seemed poised to strike at Gao Tianxiong, when Wang Chenghu's voice rang out: "Brother Wei, seize the man first. If anyone interferes, show no mercy."

The blue-clad man withdrew his stance, walked calmly over to Chen Feiyang, lifted the unconscious man with one hand, and then strode toward Wang Chenghu and his group.

Hu Yidong and the others watched, eager to move, but all looked to Gao Tianxiong, who gave no signal, only coldly observing the blue-clad man's retreating figure.

"Gao Tianxiong, why persist? If you'd handed him over earlier, neither you nor your men would have suffered," Wang Chenghu's casual voice sounded again. Gao Tianxiong turned his icy gaze on him, his voice suddenly sharp: "Wang Number Two, on the night of the tournament, your Wang family joined forces to oppress my Hongcheng Group. Today, you escalate further: not only do you snatch people unreasonably, but you cripple my key men. Do you think Hongcheng Group is a pushover, or that your Wang family can trample all over the rules because your fists are big?"

Gao Tianxiong straightened and spoke loudly: "Wang Number Two, I will say this only once. Return Chen Feiyang and compensate for the injuries to my Hongcheng Group's people, or bear the consequences."

Wang Chenghu's gaze deepened. "Gao Tianxiong, stop bluffing—"

A sharp, explosive sound interrupted him. Everyone turned, and saw that Hong Chen had dropped his kettle while pouring water.

"Ha, so that's smashing a cup as a signal—no, smashing a kettle as a signal," Jiang Tao laughed, making a jest, oblivious to the strange look Hong Chen shot him.

At the stairway, a figure quietly emerged, flashing past like a breeze, weaving through the crowd and the King’s Club security with ease, finally appearing before all.

The figure wore a gray cloak and mask—the mysterious masked man who had supported Hongcheng Group on the night of the tournament.

As the masked man appeared silently, the crowd showed astonishment. Hu Yidong and his peers were visibly shaken, while Wang Chenghu and his men grew grim.

Ignoring the others, the masked man turned to Gao Tianxiong and asked, "How much compensation?"

Gao Tianxiong was dazed; his mind stalled—he alone knew Hong Chen was the masked man, yet Hong Chen sat calmly a few steps away. So who was this masked man?

At that moment, Hong Chen leaned close to Jiang Tao and whispered, "Young Master Jiang, the one injured was a core member of Hongcheng Group. If you were in General Gao's place, how much compensation would you demand from the Wang family?"

Jiang Tao replied without hesitation, "If it were me, I'd demand at least a whole King's Club."

He spoke casually, with a hint of playfulness. Hong Chen immediately announced loudly, "Young Master Jiang says, at least a whole King's Club."

The crowd instantly felt drained—a single King's Club made five million in annual profits, with hidden value placing its worth at over five hundred million. Demanding five hundred million for an injured man—a joke, perhaps, but if serious, it was absurd.

Most saw it as jest, but at least three took it seriously: Gao Tianxiong, the masked man, and Qiu. Gao Tianxiong because he knew Hong Chen's identity; the masked man and Qiu never doubted any of Hong Chen's decisions.

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Without waiting for Gao Tianxiong's reply, the masked man nodded slightly, looked up at Wang Chenghu and the others, and said, "Return the man and compensate with this King's Club. Will you agree?"

Wang Chenghu and his group fell silent.

The masked man's patience was remarkably short; he waited only a second before darting forward, launching an attack at the blue-clad man.

His force surged forth. Wang Chenghu’s group had not expected the masked man to act so decisively and were forced to retreat. The blue-clad man’s expression changed as he instinctively leaped back.

The masked man pursued relentlessly, throwing punch after punch. The blue-clad man dodged in haste, countering with punches in response, the sounds of impact echoing one after another. The battle was fierce, with no gaps, so intense the crowd forgot to breathe.

In less than ten seconds, the masked man had thrown more than twenty punches; the blue-clad man dodged half, met six or seven with his own fists, and was struck three or four times in vital spots.

Feeling overwhelmed, the blue-clad man cried out urgently, "Together!"

Wang Chenghu snapped awake, gave a quick signal to two men—both half-step masters. They flashed into the fray.

Three against one, but the masked man showed no panic. He did not win instantly, but steadily held the upper hand. After half a minute, one half-step master was struck by the masked man’s palm at the diaphragm, force expelled, and let out a piercing scream that made everyone’s skin crawl.

Wang Chenghu’s eye twitched. "Stop!" he shouted.

The masked man swept his arm, forcing his opponents back, pausing his attack, and turned to Wang Chenghu, speaking concisely: "Do you agree?"

Wang Chenghu’s face was ugly—agree, my foot!

"Sir, you act without knowing right from wrong. Isn’t this too much?"

"Enough nonsense. Just answer: agree or not?"

Wang Chenghu was well aware of the masked man’s performance on the tournament night: at least a half-step master, possibly a full master, with a style that was not overbearing, but reasonable and measured. Now, he saw his judgment was correct—a master indeed—but the style had changed drastically.

Forceful, decisive, and utterly uncompromising!

Infuriated, Wang Chenghu gritted his teeth. "Sir, I advise you not to be too arrogant. At worst—"

Before he could finish, the masked man attacked again, his fierce assault enveloping the other half-step master. The latter’s face fell into despair, shouting, "Together!"

Wang Chenghu’s face darkened to pitch, quickly ordering, "Liuzi, bring ten security guards."

He cast a cold glance at Wang Shaokun and whispered a few words in his ear. Wang Shaokun nodded and turned to leave.

Liuzi and his men surged forward, seemingly engulfing the masked man in a tide of bodies. But next, a series of screams echoed, as security guards fell one by one...

Meanwhile, Wang Shaokun sought out Liu Hao, quickly explaining the situation. Before Liu Hao could respond, Liu Xinyue interjected firmly: "No. Our Liu family will not get involved."

Wang Shaokun wanted the Liu family’s bodyguard, who had accompanied the siblings tonight, to join the attack on the masked man—effectively severing ties with Hongcheng Group.

Ignoring her, Wang Shaokun tempted Liu Hao: "That masked man is at most a mid-level master, Hongcheng Group’s greatest asset. Our Wang family will handle the initial attrition, then our two masters plus your Liu family’s one, three together, will surely take him down. Afterwards, our Wang family will acquire Hongcheng Group’s Paradise brand; your Liu family gets thirty percent."

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A flash of calculation crossed Liu Hao’s eyes. He seized on the key question: "Your Wang family brought two masters tonight?"

Wang Shaokun anticipated his doubt, smiling meaningfully: "Hongcheng Group is clearly here to challenge us tonight. My second uncle will not hold back. Old Ma is already here, hidden and waiting for a decisive strike."

"Your Wang family really is despicable," Liu Xinyue said with contempt. Old Ma was a mid-level master, second only to Wang Chenghu’s elder brother, Wang Chenglong. Such an expert lying in ambush for a sneak attack disgusted Liu Xinyue to her core.

"But that masked man doesn’t dare show his true face. Is your Liu family always above board?" retorted Wang Shaokun. Liu Xinyue was angered, about to retort, but Liu Hao suddenly said, "Let’s do it, Shaokun. If your Wang family breaks its word, don’t blame my Liu family for turning."

"Brother..."

"I’ve decided."

Seeing Liu Hao’s iron resolve, Liu Xinyue knew persuasion was useless. She bit her lip hard. "There’s no remedy for regret. Take care of yourself." With that, she stormed off.

While Wang Shaokun and Liu Hao struck their deal, the battle on the other side reached its climax. On Wang Chenghu’s orders, King’s Club security guards charged in waves of ten—the fourth wave now. Like filling the sea with stones, nearly thirty lay sprawled on the floor, crying out in pain, sending chills through the onlookers, who gazed at the masked man with awe and trepidation.

For most non-martial artists, seeing one person knock down dozens is striking enough on TV, but witnessing it in real life was indescribably shocking.

Yet, against overwhelming odds, the masked man, though powerful, was still flesh and blood. His stamina waned; his attacks shifted from offense to defense, and Hu Yidong and the others grew increasingly worried, itching to join, but Gao Tianxiong gave no sign.

Wang Chenghu’s face had darkened to deathly stillness. Club managers like Bian Kang dared not even breathe. The sixty guards brought by Liuzi weren’t regular staff; they were elite recruits from other King’s brand nightclubs. Half were now lost—already a crippling blow to the Wang family. If the masked man wasn’t subdued, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Wang Shaokun hurried over and whispered something to Wang Chenghu, who nodded slightly and ordered another wave of ten guards.

As the fight dragged on, the number of fallen guards grew to over forty. The masked man, finally showing signs of exhaustion, was struck several times. Though still holding on, his steps faltered, his body swayed, and his attacks slowed and weakened visibly.

Wang Chenghu seized the timing and shouted, "Brother Wei, he’s almost done. Hold him!"

The young man was nearly spent, but at Wang Chenghu’s command, he summoned his last strength, unleashing a desperate surge. His attack, though seemingly both frantic and deathly, forced the masked man to retreat steadily.

At that critical moment, a figure burst from the crowd, moving like lightning to launch a sneak attack from behind the masked man—it was the Liu family’s master.

Half a beat later, another figure—a white-haired elder whose eyes flashed with brilliance—stomped the ground, shooting forward like a cannonball, scattering nearby people with the force of his movement.

The elder’s speed was astounding, striking sooner than the Liu family’s master, decisively extending a palm toward the masked man’s face.

Three masters struck nearly simultaneously, the Liu family’s man and the elder both attacking by surprise. Most of the crowd couldn’t react in time; only a few faces changed drastically, holding their breath in reflexive terror.

(This battle marks a pivotal moment for Hongcheng Group’s ascent. Naturally, it deserves extra attention. The next chapter will conclude this arc!)

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