Painfully Killing Zhang Long and Zhao Hu

Zhang Long was tall and thin, Zhao Hu was stocky and strong. The two chatted idly, not bothering to regard Zhao Han as a threat, yet their eyes swept the surroundings like hawks from time to time.

Clearly, they were after the Energy Pill in Zhao Han's hand, and also taking the chance to suppress him.

Suppressing newcomers was nothing strange anywhere—it could be considered an unspoken rule in every trade.

"So it was Wang Liang who let it slip." Zhao Han's eyes sharpened.

Wang Liang was one of those gang members skilled at hunting. During casual talk, he'd learned that Zhao Han often came to the East Side to train.

"So an Energy Pill can sell for one tael of silver!"

That wasn't cheap.

One tael of silver in this world had purchasing power comparable to two thousand yuan.

Meaning one copper coin had the buying power of two yuan.

One copper coin could buy a plain steamed bun the size of two fists.

An inn waiter's monthly wage was only a hundred coppers; a laborer earned just three hundred. One tael of silver was no small sum.

It was only natural for these two to be greedy.

"Why do they know I have an Energy Pill? Could it be Liu Gang told them?"

No one else knew he had the pill except Liu Gang, so it had to be him.

Clearly, Liu Gang had told these two, and they must be his trusted confidants.

Zhao Han's expression hardened. He'd just said he'd repay Liu Gang, but now that was overturned in an instant. Sure enough, in this world, you couldn't trust anyone easily.

The two slowly moved out of Zhao Han's sight, walking straight ahead.

"Since you two want to die, I'll grant your wish." Zhao Han smiled contemptuously, thinking of a good plan.

He jumped down from the tree, crouched low, and crept forward, tailing closely behind the two.

He picked up a sharp rock from the ground. No Flying Axe, but a rock would do.

"Perfect chance!"

Reaching a gentle slope, Zhao Han looked down from higher ground and saw the two with their backs to him, chatting.

"Take this!"

"Whoosh!"

The rock flew straight at them. The two heard the sound of something cutting through the air and turned to look, just in time for the sharp stone to hit Zhao Hu square in the face on the right side.

"Ah!"

The sharp edge gouged out one of Zhao Hu's eyeballs. His eye socket and eye quickly swelled and bled, a gruesome sight.

He fell on his backside, clutching his eye and wailing nonstop.

"Zhao, it's you! How dare you ambush a fellow disciple! According to gang rules, that's punishable by having your fingers chopped off!"

Zhang Long's face changed color as he snarled, pulling out the Poisonous Snake Gang's rules to pressure Zhao Han.

"I'm not your fellow disciple. I'm clearly a member of the Black Wolf Gang." Zhao Han sneered, drew the chopping knife from his waist, and charged straight forward.

In close combat, use a weapon if you have one; if not, use fist techniques.

"A Black Wolf Gang member? What do you mean? Could it be... you're a spy!"

"You talk too much. Die!"

The knife slashed straight at his face. Zhang Long's face twisted in shock—Zhao Han was serious, meaning to hack them both to death here.

"Dodge!"

Zhang Lung immediately threw himself to the side, dodging the slash, then warned Zhao Hu.

Zhao Han missed with his first strike, then swung horizontally at Zhao Hu the next moment.

Clearly, Zhao Han's target was Zhao Hu; Zhang Long was only being driven back.

Zhao Hu dodged in desperation, enduring the excruciating pain of his burst eyeball to avoid the sideways slash.

"Die!"

Zhang Long quickly drew his knife and slashed, wanting to make Zhao Han understand the power of a Skin Refining Warrior.

"Hah!"

Zhao Han didn't retreat but advanced, turning back to slash straight at him.

"I'm a Skin Refining—"

"Clang—"

"You, impossible, absolutely impossible!"

The two knives clashed, producing a metallic ring. Zhang Long instantly felt his tiger's mouth go numb, his grip unsteady.

This meant the other's strength surpassed his own.

It also meant the other was in the Skin Refining Realm, and had been for some time.

"Hesitate, and you die!"

"Boom!"

Zhao Han kicked out, sending the stunned Zhang Long sprawling to the ground, then stabbed upward with his blade.

"Ah!" Zhang Long cried out in pain.

The strike didn't hit a vital spot, but it pierced the femoral artery in his thigh.

"Rip!"

"Squelch!"

With a pull of the blade, blood sprayed out in a torrent.

Temporarily crippling Zhang Long's mobility, Zhao Han glanced at Zhao Hu, who was about to flee.

Trying to run? Did you ask me?

"Take this!"

He picked up a stone and hurled it, striking Zhao Hu on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground unconscious.

Zhao Hu sneered inwardly: "A Skin Refining Warrior isn't that fragile. Faking a faint won't fool me."

He grabbed another stone, aimed at Zhao Hu's crotch, and threw.

"Ah!"

Under the lethal strike to the groin, Zhao Hu, who had been pretending to be unconscious to ambush Zhao Han, instantly turned purple-faced and clutched his lower body.

"Trying to play dead on me?"

He threw another stone, smashing it into Zhao Hu's face, adding injury to injury.

"Die!"

Closing in, Zhao Han swung his blade. Zhao Hu barely raised his own to block, but was overpowered by Zhao Han's strength, his weapon easily knocked aside.

The blade arced downward, leaving a bloody line across Zhao Hu's face.

"Ugh... ugh..." Zhao Hu clutched his throat, struggling in agony.

The gash there split open, blood gushing out, clogging his throat and windpipe, stifling any sound.

Before the blood could drain, he would choke to death on it, suffocating alive.

One down, and another was dragging his leg, trying to crawl away.

A river of blood trailed on the ground behind him. With the femoral artery severed, even if Zhao Han didn't finish him, he wouldn't survive.

Even in modern-day Blue Star, a stab to the femoral artery without immediate medical attention and a blood transfusion would kill you within minutes.

Zhao Han approached, his tone icy: "Think you can escape?"

"Spare me, spare me! It was our greed, please, let me go!" Zhang Long begged incessantly, dragging himself along in desperation.

Zhao Han's voice turned cold: "Spare you? If I didn't have this strength and you two had caught me, who would have spared me?"

"We, we were just blinded by greed. We only wanted the money, not to kill you. We all work for Leader Liu—why fight among ourselves?" Zhao Hu, pale-faced, begged again, invoking Leader Liu in hopes of leniency.

"A fine 'why fight among ourselves.' Say what you will, but in this world, the bigger fist wins. Die!"

Zhao Han kicked the blade from his hand, then pummeled him with the Black Wolf Fist, unleashing a full-force combo.

He struck until Zhang Long's chest caved in and his ribs fractured.

The technique matched that of the Black Wolf Gang members—every blow from the Black Wolf Fist left damage in the same spots.

"Ugh... Black, Black Wolf Fist... you, you're a spy..." Zhang Long pointed at Zhao Han, disbelief on his face, before dying with eyes wide open.

Zhao Hu was already dead, but Zhao Han still worked him over with the Black Wolf Fist, leaving marks on the corpse.

Now there was no evidence to the contrary.

The Black Wolf Gang members killed these two—what did it have to do with Zhao Han? He was a legitimate member of the Poisonous Snake Gang.

And a nobody who hadn't even reached Skin Refining at that.

The shit was squarely pinned on the Black Wolf Gang.

Next came the looting phase.

For his first time looting corpses, Zhao Han felt no disgust. Instead, he moved with practiced ease, stripping everything from both bodies.

It felt like opening a blind box.

He'd done the same before, during his earlier escape.

Four taels of silver.

Two copies of Snake-Style Deft Hand.

Two Energy Pills.

"All good stuff."

"And I've got enough silver now to train Snake-Style Deft Hand."

Without a second thought, Zhao Han took out five taels of silver and used them to simplify the Snake-Style Deft Hand.

[Simplify Snake-Style Deft Hand?]

"Yes."