Volume One, Chapter 73: Trapping the Enemy Within

"Ah, murder!"
"Brother, isn't this a bit much? We're all here just to have some fun, and you're ruining it for everyone. Do you really think this is the right thing to do?" Cheng Zhuang stepped forward, showing not the slightest hint of fear. He was well-versed in handling these sorts of thugs.
People like this were usually just short on cash—give them enough money, and they'd do whatever you wanted. Cheng Zhuang felt certain he could handle the situation; after all, he had once roamed these very streets himself and knew the rules of the underworld.
"Buddy, I've got twenty thousand here. Take it and leave us alone, don't cause any more trouble." Cheng Zhuang patted the man's shoulder as he spoke.
The man’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the money. "Twenty thousand? That’ll do."
With a look of disdain, Cheng Zhuang placed the money in his hand, then glanced over at Jiang Ning and Chen Shu.
In his mind, small-time punks like this would do anything for enough cash, which only reinforced his belief that his approach was right.
But the next second, the man asked, "Looks to me like you’ve got more than that in your wallet. Hand over the rest, too."
Cheng Zhuang turned and glared at him. "Are you out of your damn mind? Don't you think you’re pushing your luck? I gave you money to save face for you, but if you can’t even accept that—"
The man pocketed the twenty thousand without a word, then, without warning, kicked Cheng Zhuang squarely in the stomach. The blow was so powerful that Cheng Zhuang doubled over, clutching his abdomen, and collapsed to the ground.
He rolled across the floor in agony, unable to stifle his cries of pain, the sound both haunting and intense.
The man bent down, grabbed Cheng Zhuang by the hair, then snatched up a nearby liquor bottle and smashed it down on his head. The screams that followed were relentless, with no sign of stopping.
Everyone present was stunned by the scene, but someone soon shouted, "Run! Quick, run! We’re being robbed!"
Chaos erupted in the bar.
Bang—

A gunshot rang out, and the once boisterous room fell instantly silent—so silent that the drop of a pin could be heard.
The man now held a pistol, while several of his accomplices wielded shotguns.
They were used to living in a safe country; apart from seeing guns on TV or in shooting clubs, almost none had ever encountered the real thing. The cold metallic weight of these firearms left no doubt—they were genuine.
No one dared make a sound, or even move.
"I’m warning you all—don’t try anything stupid. I’ll take the money and go. So just hand it over, and no one gets hurt." After he spoke, people began to line up, handing over their valuables, while his lackeys collected everything in bags.
Some hesitated at first, but a single glance from the man was enough to break their resolve. Soon, all those with money gave it up—gold necklaces, rings, watches, all thrown into the bags.
In no time, the once-empty bags were bulging, likely containing several million.
Because Jiang Chen was seated far from the robbers, no one paid him any attention—not even those drinking nearby noticed him.
Soon the bags were full, but one of the thugs hurried over and whispered something to the man, who then strode directly towards Jiang Ning.
"This little beauty’s quite something. Looks like she’s still pure, too. Ha! Never thought, at my age, I'd get to enjoy this," he laughed, leering at Jiang Ning.
Chen Shu, standing next to her, didn’t even try to resist—he simply handed Jiang Ning over. The onlookers felt a pang of pity; who could have guessed this lovely girl would fall into such hands and face such a fate?
Jiang Ning was still lucid. "Who are you? I don’t know you. Let me go, don’t touch me—let go of me!"
The man sneered, "Relax, little girl, you don’t need to know me. Once we’re back in bed together, we’ll get to know each other real well. Don’t worry, I’m gentle in bed."
Jiang Chen walked over, opened a bottle of wine, unconcerned by the events unfolding right before everyone’s eyes.

He ignored the gang completely, pouring himself a drink and adding a few drops of lemon with a cocktail measure.
"Kid, are you looking to die?" the man snarled, stepping in front of Jiang Chen and pressing the cold barrel of his gun against Jiang Chen’s forehead.
Jiang Chen looked at him and said, "How about a bet? Go ahead and shoot. I promise you won’t be able to kill me. Do you believe that?"
The man was taken aback. "Are you insane? My gun’s pressed to your head—you think you’re faster than a bullet?"
Jiang Chen just shrugged. "Let’s bet. Maybe I’ll dodge it. But here’s the deal: if I don’t, I’m dead, obviously. But if I do, I get to take the girl with me."
Without hesitation, the man pulled the trigger—but nothing happened. The gun didn’t fire. As everyone looked on, they saw that all that remained was a trigger.
The magazine, bullets, and spring were already gone—stripped out in the blink of an eye. Even those who had been staring at the gun the whole time hadn’t seen how it had been dismantled until only the frame was left.
Jiang Chen said, "All right, that’s settled. I’ll be taking her now."
The man, furious at being made a fool of, shouted, "You dare mess with me? You must have a death wish! And let me tell you, I’m not the only one here with a gun. If you move, we’ll turn you into a sieve!"
Jiang Chen smiled. "That’s not fair, is it? We had a bet. You lost—are you not going to honor your word?"
"Honor my word? Nonsense! No one takes from me what I want, and you’re no different. Don’t think your little tricks will scare me," the man spat, his face twisted with rage.
Jiang Chen downed his drink and let out a satisfied belch. Then, rolling up his sleeves, he looked around the room.
"Gentlemen, close the doors, would you? I don’t want anyone running off."