Life and Death Are Fated

Sink the shoulders, drop the elbows; relax the waist, settle the hips.

Song Ren assumed his stance, the light in his eyes withdrawing until all that remained was icy clarity.

In a calm voice, as if speaking to himself yet clear enough for everyone present to hear, he said:

"Life and death are fated..."

Facing Song Ren at that moment, Fat Dog and his group could not help slowing their steps.

It was as though their throats had been clogged. Their Adam's apples bobbed as they swallowed nervously.

Fat Dog was still the one who tightened his grip on the table leg. He glared, a vicious look surfacing on his face.

"Fuck, there are so many of us, and every one of us has a table leg."

"He's alone and bare-handed. What the hell are we scared of?"

With that, he raised his table leg and pointed it straight at Song Ren. His fleshy face twisted as he snarled, "You bastard, trying to scare me? You think your Uncle Dog was raised to be frightened?"

Riled up by his tone, the others gathered their courage against the pressure Song Ren gave off. Their usual vicious faces, honed from years of running with gangs, gradually returned as they raised their solid wooden table legs and surrounded him.

Each of them encouraged himself inwardly: This was not a movie. Eight against one—there was no reason to fear him.

Song Ren swept his gaze left and right, then chose to step out first, charging directly at Fat Dog, who had talked the biggest game.

Among the table legs in their hands, only Fat Dog's was stained with blood.

So you liked sneak attacks...

Song Ren rammed aside one swinging table leg with his shoulder, turned his head to evade another, then threaded his right hand upward and seized one man's wrist.

With a pull, he made the table leg in that man's hand knock aside the several strikes coming from the right.

At the same time, a violent pain flared through his waist and hips as a table leg struck him squarely across the side from a tricky angle.

But Song Ren's expression remained cold, without the slightest change.

Instead, he raised his left hand, sank his shoulder and drew back his arm. After twisting his body, his clenched knuckles rose high.

The arm he had pulled with his right hand was already drawn directly in front of him, while the Hoof Seal on Song Ren's back grew increasingly scorching.

Power from shoulder and elbow!

Cannon Fist!

His whitening knuckles smashed into the other man's outer elbow, the surging force like a merciless iron hammer.

Crack!

With a crisp sound of splintering bone, the straight right arm bent inward from the elbow.

Elbow joint shattered, tendons and muscles severely torn!

The man froze for the briefest moment. Then he suddenly dropped the table leg, clutched his inward-bent right arm, doubled over in agony, and let out a heart-rending scream.

The miserable, pain-filled sound was bound to draw the patrolling guards outside sooner or later.

Song Ren did not pause. He retreated half a step, using his elbow to prop up another man's table leg.

His foot crashed into the stance of a man behind and to the side. The instant the man lost his balance, Song Ren executed a clean shoulder throw.

He smashed aside all the table legs swinging in from the front, while also using the man to knock the two men charging at the forefront to the ground.

Song Ren's eyes darted from side to side. Then he twisted his waist and spine like a great dragon and drove a powerful spinning kick into the side of one man's face before he could react.

Leaving a deep shoeprint behind, he kicked the man sideways and sent him crashing to the floor.

Song Ren retreated another two steps, seemingly yielding ground, only to suddenly surge forward the next instant.

He raised an arm and forcibly blocked the descending table leg with his forearm, ignoring the searing pain as he launched a flying knee directly into Fat Dog's face.

Fat Dog's head slammed into the wall beside the restroom, leaving no space between Song Ren's knee and the bridge of his nose.

The soft nasal bone broke, and two front teeth flew straight out.

Bright red blood splashed across his face.

Whoosh!

The wind howled past.

At that instant, a table leg swept down toward Song Ren's head.

Song Ren's flying knee landed. Ignoring Fat Dog's wails, he reached up and grabbed the vicious table leg swinging toward him.

At the same time, another table leg had already lashed directly toward the back of his head.

Song Ren caught it in the corner of his eye, lowered himself to evade, and twisted into a kick that swept the prisoner whose table leg he held to the ground.

Leaning forward, he savagely drove his raised knee into the man's abdominal cavity.

Crack!

The angle was perfect. At least three ribs had broken.

At that moment, another blur of clubs entered his sight.

Song Ren twisted and leaned backward, evading the attack while planting both hands on the ground and flipping back to his feet.

The remaining men had run with gangs for many years. Stimulated by the blood and screams, they had forgotten fear and pain, charging forward on instinct.

Song Ren withdrew half a step, grabbed a table leg swung at him, and pulled.

As the other man staggered forward, Song Ren twisted his waist and back, savagely whipping his heel into the man's side. He sent him flying into the other two men beside him, though his own shoulder took another vicious blow.

But pain was not enough to stop Song Ren. Instead, it further provoked the brutality buried deep in his bones.

Train a breath within; train sinew, bone, and flesh without.

The vicious breath in Song Ren's bones surged ever more fiercely, while the Kui Ox Hoof Seal on his back burned so hot it seemed ready to set his clothes alight.

Stepping forward, Song Ren unleashed an assault so violent it dazzled the eye!

Horse Stance Straight Punch!

One punch struck a man beneath the armpit, making the table leg slip from his hand.

Song Ren grabbed it in one fluid motion, his arm swinging upward.

With one sweep of the table leg, he struck the flesh on the man's face until it twisted and warped. The man's face wrenched violently to one side, and three large yellow teeth flew out amid the bloody froth spewing from his mouth.

Then he swept aside two more club shadows with one strike, twisted into a kick that knocked one man away, and spun his body. The table leg in his hand followed close behind, smashing into another man's shoulder with the force of the Hoof Seal.

Under that brutal force, the man felt as if his shoulder bone had shattered.

His entire body slammed into the wall, and he clutched his shoulder weakly as he began to howl.

Fat Dog charged over with blood all over his face. The pain had made him forget fear, driving him even further into madness.

The raised table leg shot straight for Song Ren's temple!

"Fuck you, you dead bastard! Die!"

Bang!

The vicious blow landed in Song Ren's cool left palm.

The searing pain in his palm only made him more excited. Right before Fat Dog's eyes, he raised the table leg in his right hand.

"Life and death are fated—"

At that instant, Fat Dog seemed to snap back to his senses. At last, intense terror reflected in his pupils.

He threw away his table leg and immediately covered his head with both hands.

The rest of Song Ren's words drowned in crimson: "Wealth and honor are in Heaven!"

Kui Ox Hoof—Staff!

Bang!!!

The staff came down. Fat Dog's fingers, shielding the top of his head, twisted completely out of shape, their pads splitting open.

Blood sprayed from the crown of his head, splattering the wall and table leg like a mourning flower.

His eyes rolled completely white, blood streaming down his forehead.

After swaying once, he toppled stiffly to the ground.

At that moment, of the eight men lying in ambush in the restroom, only two could still stand. The rest were either severely injured or unconscious.

The two prisoners seemed scared senseless. Their whole bodies jerked, and they turned and ran madly for the door.

They crashed straight into someone rushing in—it was Yau Kong Ngau, who had realized something was wrong.

Behind him were over a dozen patrolling prison guards who had rushed over after hearing the commotion.

The moment they charged into the restroom, they were stunned by the scene before them.

Prisoners lay scattered everywhere, moaning in agony.

Spattered blood, teeth, twisted limbs, Fat Dog kneeling stiffly upright, and the small pool of blood beneath him.

The savage sight made their souls tremble.