Old bastard named Cao, you fucking wait.

Early September, Lingling returned to the capital.

Reluctant to part, she clung tightly, unwilling to let go.

Only a thin layer of separation remained between them.

Sigh!

The house grew quiet and lonely once more.

Young Master Cao had also gathered intel on Kuang Long and Meng Hu’s hideout and basic situation.

Turns out, they had sought refuge with their uncle.

This time, Young Master Cao didn’t hold back. Over three consecutive nights, during his free time, he used his teleportation to swiftly arrive at Yang Laojiu’s nightclub. There, he relentlessly harvested negative emotions from the uncle and his two nephews.

What use were numbers?

Against Young Master Cao’s agility, no amount of people could lay a finger on him.

In less than ten seconds, no matter how many came, they all ended up on the ground.

No chance to fight back.

Unless they used guns.

But Yang Laojiu could sense that the other party had no intent to kill, nor were they serious—it felt like they were playing some new form of… bullying.

This kind of "dad-level bullying" made him afraid to escalate things into a life-or-death feud.

Because once guns were drawn, it would mean total war.

At this moment, Yang Laojiu finally understood his nephews’ suffering and why they had fled Sanjiang.

Now, even he wanted to leave Zhonghai.

This was just too much.

"Killing is one thing, but this… Have mercy, brother!

What grudge do you hold against us?

If you’ve got a problem, just say it.

Name your terms—apologies, compensation, or a humiliating toast—just speak up.

Is it proper to start beating people right away?

And then leave right after, as if beating us was the whole point?

Even interrogators ask questions before torturing.

There’s gotta be some personal vendetta here, right?

Sure, we’re hoodlums.

We’re society’s trash.

But even we… have basic human dignity.

Wuuu…"

"Nephew…" Yang Laojiu wept bitterly.

Meng Hu grimaced in pain.

Kuang Long, already accustomed to it, endured the ache in his ribs, lying on the floor and staring blankly at the ceiling.

This scene felt familiar.

Kuang Long muttered, "Should we leave Zhonghai?"

But where could they go?

Wouldn’t he just chase after them?

Kuang Long suddenly realized—despite the vastness of the country, spanning millions of square kilometers, there seemed to be no place for them to hide.

Too scared to return to their hometown.

Zhonghai felt like hell.

Now, even a roof over their heads seemed like an impossible luxury.

Back when he first started this life,

some "senior" had told him: "In the underworld, you’re at the mercy of the tides. Few end well."

But Kuang Long never imagined it’d be this bad.

If he’d known, he would’ve just worked in a factory tightening screws. What was the point of all this?

...

Meanwhile, Old Dog wasn’t faring any better.

While beating Yang Laojiu, Young Master Cao heard him beg for mercy, crying out that Old Dog had ordered them to attack Old Cao.

That led him straight to Old Dog’s address.

For three days, Old Dog got the same treatment.

He also gave up Boss Jin.

Though, even if he hadn’t, Young Master Cao would’ve guessed—Old Cao didn’t have many enemies.

The first time he’d beaten them in the van, Meng Hu had shamelessly blurted: "We weren’t following you! We were after that man!"

That was when Young Master Cao had already suspected Boss Jin.

Now, he just had a precise target.

...

That night,

Cao Cheng arrived at Boss Jin’s suite in the Jinmao Hotel.

Hundreds of meters up, just a couple of teleports away.

"Who are you?"

The balding boss, wrapped in a bathrobe, stepped out of the bathroom and froze at the sight of the masked figure on his sofa.

His body trembled.

Thank god he’d already finished pissing.

Otherwise, he’d have wet himself right then.

After stepping out of the shower, seeing a masked man—who wouldn’t be terrified?

Boss Jin stumbled backward a few steps, instinctively glancing toward the door as if calculating an escape route.

"Boss Jin."

"Don’t be scared."

"I’m just here to deliver a gift."

"A gift? What gift?" Boss Jin remained cautious, shuffling backward, his voice trembling slightly.

"I heard you hired someone to collect teeth. Too bad the guy you hired was useless—got caught. So, naturally, it’s only fair to return the favor. Come on, be a good boy, show me those teeth. I only need two."

"..."

Boss Jin understood now.

That pale-faced bastard, Old Cao.

Damn it!

He was the one who knocked my teeth out first. Why the hell is he retaliating?

This is just bullying!

Still, Boss Jin felt a little relieved. For a second, he thought it was an assassin sent by some enemy.

Fck, that scared the hell out of me.

Boss Jin quickly waved his hands. "Bro, bro, listen to me—calm down. I’ll give you money. Fifty thousand—no, a hundred thousand! A hundred and fifty thousand… I’ll pay you a hundred and fifty thousand to beat up Old Cao. Two teeth. After it’s done, I’ll give you another hundred and fifty."

That was an astronomical sum.

These days, it was enough to kill three people.

The masked man shook his head. "Professional integrity, Boss Jin. Can’t take money from both sides. Just endure it. It’ll be over soon."

"No, no, I just got them fixed! Bro—no, boss, big brother, godfather… please don’t hit my teeth—"

"Ah—!"

A scream echoed.

Finally, the bodyguards outside heard the commotion.

Gotta admit, the soundproofing was way too good.

By the time they barged in, Boss Jin’s mouth was full of blood.

But the attacker… was nowhere to be seen.

"Boss, you a’ight?" one bodyguard asked with a thick accent.

"Get the hell out! Are you fcking dead or what? How did someone sneak in? What’s the point of keeping you around?" Boss Jin hissed through the gaps in his teeth, pointing furiously at the two bodyguards.

The other bodyguard frowned. "Boss, no one came in. No one left either."

"Bullsht!"

Boss Jin gestured wildly around the room. "Then what the hell was that, a ghost? Go search the place! He’s still here. Find him, knock his teeth out—I want two of his teeth!"

"..."

They searched everywhere.

Even lifted the bed. Not a single trace of anyone.

It was like dealing with a damn ghost.

If not for Boss Jin’s missing teeth, the bodyguards would’ve thought he was just making excuses to dock their bonuses.

"Get out, get out, get the hell out!"

Boss Jin waved impatiently, shooing them away. He instinctively licked his upper teeth. Damn it, that familiar gap—so fcking annoying.

"That old bastard, Old Cao… just you wait, I swear I’ll—"

He was about to vow revenge but abruptly stopped himself.

Should he really keep going?

He’d already lost four teeth in total.

Damn it.

No.

I’m calling the police.

I’m a foreign investor.

I’m a Chinese-American… a green card holder. I’m a U.S. citizen.

Technically, this is a diplomatic incident!

Losing teeth before could’ve been written off as an accident—just carelessness. The cops wouldn’t do much, maybe just some compensation.

But this time? It’s a hired hit…

That’s it.

I won’t let you get away with this.

Sss—!

Fck, it hurts so bad.

Old Cao, you’ve gone too far.

...

He reported it to the police overnight.

Being a Chinese-American did carry weight, especially these days.

And Boss Jin was, legally, a foreigner.

So,

Early the next morning, the police arrived at the villa where Old Cao and Ren's Mother were staying.

There was no way around it—after all, someone had notified the embassy, filed a police report, and dragged in both a local tycoon and an overseas "banana person" (yellow on the outside, white on the inside). The higher-ups had no choice but to take it seriously.

"What?"

"He was attacked?"

"Just got his teeth fixed, and now two more got knocked out?"

"Hahaha, no no, I’m not gloating. I just think he must’ve pissed someone off, hahaha…" Old Cao laughed without a care.

The innocent have nothing to fear.

What’s there to be scared of?

The lead officer frowned. "Please be serious. We’re handling a case here."

Old Cao’s laughter slowly faded.

But Ren's Mother shot them a sidelong glare, her eyes sharp and domineering. "Oh? Which law says we can’t laugh in our own home? Who’s your supervisor? I think I’ll file a complaint with the municipal committee. I’d love to ask them whether my husband and I are allowed to laugh in our own damn house."

"…"