"Could it be you?!" Fan Lunding's expression darkened several shades as he thought of a possibility.
In the past, the three major gangs had clashed with one another from time to time, but things had never reached this point.
Yet in less than half a day after this foreign fleet arrived at the docks, the Fan Gang and First Sun Gang were already on the verge of fighting to the death.
"No, no, no. Of course it wasn't us. I told you, you fight your own battles." Zhang Long smiled as usual, as if they were discussing some easygoing topic. "Besides, if you want to try, I don't mind bringing my people to kill you all."
Bao Lei froze, shocked. This guy's so arrogant he must have a death wish.
Zhang Long had brought only a dozen or so people with him. If he pushed Fan Lunding into a corner, he might not make it out alive.
However, staring at the dark muzzle of the gun, Fan Lunding ultimately didn't dare keep acting arrogantly. He sneered. "Kill me, and you won't be able to leave today either."
"Fine, you're right." Zhang Long shrugged indifferently. "That's why I gave you a choice. Let me take my people away, and you can continue fighting. Otherwise, the others might survive, but you, Mr. Fan, will definitely die."
That was the charm of thermal weapons.
With only a single pistol, one could imitate Zhao Zilong at Changban Slope, standing among ten thousand soldiers and chatting and laughing with ease.
"Mr. Zhang, there's no need for us to—"
"Thirty seconds left." Zhang Long dug at his ear, unwilling to say another word.
He lifted his eyes and swept them over the Fan Gang members standing nearby.
The instant anyone met his gaze, the Fan Gang