Chapter 83

After I finished drinking the water, I felt my lungs spasm. Drinking and smoking had really affected my endurance. After wiping the water from my mouth, I felt all my fierce strength disappear. Those forty-odd people continued looking at us, but still didn’t react. While I was trying to catch my breath and recover my strength, the old man pointed at Fatty and said something that I didn’t catch. It was only then that the forty people reacted and quickly surrounded us.

I once again heard “Dagger Society Suite” ringing in my ears. I put down the water bottle and formed a triangle with Fatty and Poker-Face for an all-round defense.

The people walking in front moved to pull us away from each other, but the three of us squatted in tacit understanding, stuck our hands in the sand, and threw fistfuls of sand out. While those people used their hands to protect their eyes, I rushed forward and hit one of them in the throat with the rod I had broken off the stool earlier. As I pushed the guy to the ground, the people nearby instantly grabbed my clothes and tried to hold me down. There was no way for ordinary people to resist under such circumstances, especially when they were outnumbered. People who were alone often ended up suppressed rather than defeated.

But I was different. I knocked the hands off with my wooden rod and pushed one of the men who tried to grab me on his own. As the both of us fell to the ground, I elbowed him in the chin hard. He instantly bit his tongue and his mouth filled with blood. I rolled over and used my hand to grab more sand, quickly throwing it into the eyes of the two people who had come over to help him.

It was too late for them to protect their eyes and they howled in pain when the sand hit. But more people immediately rushed up. I turned around and got ready to run, but someone had come up from behind to block me. I threw the rod in my hand. The man quickly dodged, so I took the chance to make my escape.

As I moved forward, I could see that Fatty and the others had broken up long ago. If there were more people pitted against a smaller number of people, then it was necessary to engage in guerilla warfare. Just now, those four people had basically lost the battle. Fatty could probably handle five or six and Poker-Face could handle ten at a time, so we could take care of half of them in an instant.

But before I had ran a few steps, I tripped over something in the sand. As I stumbled and almost faceplanted, the people behind me rushed over. I flicked my hand and pretended to toss more sand out, but the other side instantly threw their own sand at me. I immediately dodged and turned to continue running, thinking that they had really learned quickly. At that moment, something flew right at me and knocked me to the ground. When I got up, I found that it was a man Fatty had kicked. I looked around and realized that six or seven people had surrounded me. An iron hook flew right at me, but I dodged sideways and it ended up hooking my clothes instead. They wanted to drag me down again, so I conveniently dropped to the ground. But instead of pulling the iron hook off, I rolled over in the sand and instantly took off my clothes.  I then grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and used this makeshift meteor hammer to hit the temple of the man who wanted to attack me again.

The impact of the iron hook on his skull made a terrifying sound and the man crumpled to the ground with a thud. Five, I said to myself as I pulled the iron hook back into my hand. All the others who were rushing up immediately stopped.

I was panting heavily and my physical strength was exhausted. This kind of fighting was the most intense exercise in the world. Fighting continuously for more than ten minutes was something that could only be done by film editing, after all.

But I had managed to beat down five people in only twenty seconds. It was absolutely impossible for ordinary people without combat training not to be shocked by this. Their instincts were probably telling them that I was dangerous.

Group fights were especially intense and those who came with a fighting mentality usually couldn’t maintain it until the end.

Sure enough, just as I expected, those people looked at each other and didn’t dare come near me again. I was finally able to catch my breath and stand up properly, only to find that they weren’t looking at me. I glanced back and saw Fatty and Poker-Face carrying the old man behind me.

The old man had a terrifyingly huge swollen lump on his head. I didn’t know what had happened, but it seemed that they had gotten straight to the point.

Fatty dragged the old man over to me and wrapped his arm around the old man’s neck. Everyone around us immediately began to retreat.

The three of us dragged the old man and slowly returned to our room.

Those other people we had beaten down earlier had just woken up. Fatty threw them out one by one and then put the old man in front of the table. “What’s going on?” I asked him. “I’ll spare you if you make it clear.”

The old man looked at Fatty, unable to speak. Fatty was a little embarrassed. At that moment, I noticed that the old man seemed to be holding something in his hand.

<Chapter 82><Table of Contents><Chapter 84>

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Meh, it’s Friday. I have no will to do anything after the week I’ve had lol. I might get more done later, might not. But at least this should tide you over if I don’t