Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

The mole-faced bodyguard had been kicked in the groin by Yang Ce and was now neither dead nor alive, leaving only this one man to protect Yan Shoubao. So he dared not act rashly—otherwise, who would protect Yan Shoubao's safety?

Yan Shoubao was somewhat afraid as well. The mole-faced bodyguard had been known as "Iron Fist"—this fellow had been hired at great expense from an underground boxing ring in the south, and no one knew how many souls had already fallen beneath those fists. And now Yang Puqi had kicked him into a state between life and death.

Though the move had been a bit despicable, there was no denying that Yang Ce was genuinely formidable—otherwise he would long since have perished under a single solid punch from the mole-faced bodyguard.

"Those who oppose me never come to a good end." Yan Shoubao, having weathered many a storm, was still able to keep his composure. "What happened before is water under the bridge—we're even now. This time, you can deliver your goods, and I won't interfere. But there will be no next time."

"Is that so? That's all it takes?" Yang Ce looked at Yan Shoubao and asked.

"Yes, I guarantee it." Yan Shoubao nodded. He was not confident that the fair-skinned man could finish off Yang Ce, so he chose to retreat. After all, Yang Ce's kick just now, and the twisted expression on the mole-faced bodyguard's face, had left Yan Shoubao deeply shaken. He had no desire for Yang Puqi to kick him into that same state.

"But what if I don't agree?" Yang Hengye looked at Yan Shoubao with a smile.

Yan Shoubao had thought Yang Ce would agree, but never expected the fellow to be still unsatisfied. He was furious at once and roared, "Don't push a man too far, I'm telling you! I, Yan Shoubao, have never feared anyone. Today I let you off not because I'm afraid of you, but because I respect you as a worthy fighter. I imagine you're a hired thug brought in at great expense by Mingyang, aren't you? This business has nothing to do with you. You've completed your task—go back and collect your money. What do other matters have to do with you?"

"Wrong. The task I was given was to make Mingyang Heavy Industries free to go wherever it pleases in Phoenix City from now on—not just this once." Yang Ce waved his hand as he spoke.

"Hmph." Yan Shoubao gave a cold snort, but his hand stealthily crept down toward his waist. In his view, Yang Juehuan might be skilled, but however fast he was, could he outrun a bullet?

He had assumed the mole-faced bodyguard could easily finish off Yang Ce, which was why Yan Shoubao had made no move to draw his gun. But now, since he was not confident of settling matters by force, then a gun it would be.

"What are you groping for?" How could Yan Shoubao's movements escape Yang Ce's notice? Yang Puqi's eyes went straight past Yan Shoubao's desk and saw the motion of his hand beneath it. "Are you groping your johnson? Don't tell me you want to try my ball-busting kick too—or perhaps you've been longing to join the Crotch-Covering Sect and couldn't find the door, so you want me to help you in?"

Yan Shoubao's hand froze at once, but he quickly set his mind at ease. So what if Yang Ce had noticed his intention? However badass he was, he was no match for a handgun. So his hand kept moving, continuing to grope toward the pistol.

"Don't move. Lift your head and look at this." Yang Ce's hand flashed up, and in it was now a small, lipstick-shaped pistol.

He had gotten it in Macau when he went to see Wang Yanqiu. The bullets had been spent at the time, but after returning, Yang Ce had loaded a few more. The assassin's kit Fang Tian had given him originally contained bullets of many different calibers.

"What is it?" Yan Shoubao was taken aback. He had never seen the thing in Yang Ce's hand before.

"A gun. Want to try it?" Yang Hengye asked.

To be continued

896. After-Sales Service

896. After-Sales Service

"A gun?" Yan Shoubao was stunned, but he could not bring himself to believe that the thing in Yang Ce's hand was actually a gun.

"Mm. Want to try it?" Yang Yu nodded.

"You're bluffing, aren't you?" Yan Shoubao thought Yang Ce was just trying to scare him. Then again, no matter how big a shot Yan Shoubao was in Phoenix City, his knowledge of firearms was pitifully scant.

Gun control in the country was extremely strict. Yan Shoubao had gone to great lengths before he managed to buy a Type 54 Black Star pistol from a southerner. In his view, handguns were supposed to be large—how could that lipstick-like thing of Yang Ce's possibly be a handgun?

So, since Yan Shoubao believed Yang Ce was deceiving him, he was no longer afraid, and his hand continued to grope toward his own gun.

"Pop." A soft report, and the fair-skinned man beside Yan Shoubao clutched his left thigh, sweating profusely as he sank into a crouch.

Because this lipstick pistol had excellent sound-suppression, the gunshot was not loud. Without close attention, one would never notice it.

As for Yan Shoubao, he was frantically drawing his gun, so plainly he had not heard it. Seeing the fair-skinned man beside him suddenly crouch on the ground, he was baffled. "What's wrong with you?"

The fair-skinned man was instantly miserable. I've been shot, can't you see? You universe-invincible super-idiot—if you hadn't kept doubting whether the man's gun was real, would he have used me as a test subject?

By now Yan Shoubao had also seen the bloody hole in the fair-skinned man's leg and was startled in turn. Which meant... the gun in Yang Ce's hand was real.

"That's really a gun?" Yan Shoubao exclaimed in shock.

"Mm. Want to try it too?" Yang Yu nodded and said flatly.

"Me? Forget it, I won't try it." Now that Yan Shoubao knew Yang Juehuan's gun was real, he was frightened badly and no longer dared to draw his own.

Seeing how Yang Ce had fired without the slightest hesitation, he understood that Yang Ce was surely the sort who killed without blinking. To offend such a man meant death—nothing else.

"Pop." Another soft gunshot—so soft that without listening closely, one would take it for the sound of something dropping to the floor.

"Ah!" Yan Shoubao shrieked, nearly rolling his eyes back. He clutched his left shoulder, and blood seeped out between his fingers, instantly dyeing half his suit red.

Yan Shoubao was both furious and terrified. He had already said he wouldn't try it—why was the fellow still shooting? What the hell was this? Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his shoulder, Yan Shoubao asked, "You—why did you still shoot me?"

"Because with you in Phoenix City, Mingyang Heavy Industries can never get a foothold. So once you're dead, there's no problem." Yang Yongjin spoke unhurriedly. "All right, now you may choose how you die. Do you want to die under the ball-busting kick, or be shot to death—or perhaps you have a particular death you'd prefer? Let me see whether I can manage it, and grant you one small wish before you die."

Yan Shoubao was cursing inwardly. What do you mean, a death I'd prefer? I've never died before—how would I know how to die well? And that ball-busting kick, don't even think about it—taking a kick like that is no joke. The moment Yan Shoubao recalled the mole-faced bodyguard's appearance, he shuddered. It seemed being shot to death was, comparatively speaking, the cleanest way to go.

But who wants to die? No matter how clean a death, in the end you're still dead. To go looking for death when you're perfectly fine—isn't that a kind of illness?

"Hurry up. Have you decided? After I finish you off, I still have to go deliver goods to that Zhaoshang Construction Company. If I'm late and they come after me for breach-of-contract damages, are you going to pay me?" Yang Ce glared at Yan Shoubao and said irritably.