Street

With a clatter, a row of low tables and stools was kicked over.

"Damn Cross-eyed, you're actually here!"

The ponytailed youth with a gold chain around his neck, apparently the leader, casually grabbed a beer bottle from beside a table and charged menacingly toward the low table where Yang Chu and Fish Head Xu were sitting.

Fish Head Xu had been sitting at the low table, drinking a little and enthusiastically chatting nonsense with Yang Chu. When he suddenly saw this group of uninvited guests surrounding them, he was so startled that his crossed eyes nearly straightened out.

"Chu-zai, run!"

Fish Head Xu reacted quickly enough. He shouted at Yang Chu, rose to his feet, and prepared to flee.

But this time, it was too late.

As the ponytailed punk leader rushed toward Fish Head Xu, the other punks behind him had already surrounded the two of them from all sides.

Though they no longer had the machetes and iron rods from before, they copied one another and grabbed beer bottles, stools, and whatever else they could find on the tables.

"B-b-bosses, what a coincidence!"

Seeing all escape routes blocked, Fish Head Xu immediately stopped moving. He put on a smile, revealing that oddly comical face, and waved to greet them.

"Coincidence my ass!"

The ponytailed punk saw that Fish Head Xu had nowhere to hide and wore a smug expression. He pointed the beer bottle in his hand at Fish Head Xu. "Damn Cross-eyed, you made me chase you through several streets, then I got chewed out by the boss when I went back. Let's see where you can run now!"

"I'm not running, I'm not running—"

Fish Head Xu continued grinning foolishly at everyone, looking inexplicably dim-witted.

"Look at that pathetic face of his!"

"This damn Cross-eyed even dared to throw money around and steal the boss's girl..."

"Fuck, looking at him, I don't even know how to hit him. This guy's a retard!"

The punks surrounding them burst into laughter at Fish Head Xu's appearance.

"Damn Cross-eyed, call me Dad and I'll let you go today!"

"Are you stupid? If you gave birth to a kid like that, you'd have been better off shooting him onto the wall!"

A few of the nastier ones started laughing even more wildly.

"Huh? It's you!!"

The ponytailed punk suddenly turned his head and noticed Yang Chu at the low table opposite Fish Head Xu.

Yang Chu was fully focused on dealing with the pile of snacks in front of him: chewing, swallowing, digesting, repeating the cycle over and over.

The food he consumed was rapidly converted into energy and the various nutrients his body required.

After accelerating the circulation of his body's systems, his metabolism had greatly increased, and his injuries were recovering far faster than those of an ordinary person.

He noticed what was happening outside, but perhaps because his subconscious was gone, he did not experience instinctive bodily reactions such as a racing heart, tensing muscles, or intensified hormone secretion when suddenly confronted with danger. He remained exceptionally calm.

It was as though he stood outside the matter entirely, as though it had nothing to do with him.

"Fuck, you're still eating?!"

Once he saw Yang Chu's face clearly, the ponytailed punk understood that Yang Chu had helped Fish Head Xu escape them earlier.

Now, seeing that Yang Chu still ignored their numbers and continued eating snacks as though no one else existed, he flew into a rage. He strode to the low table and raised a foot to kick it flying.

But Yang Chu was faster. Before the other man could kick over the table, he reached out and flipped it into the air first.

All the food, soup, and drinks on the low table spilled over the ponytailed punk.

"Kill him!"

Covered in snacks and soup, the ponytailed punk was instantly furious. As he brushed at the mess on his clothes, he pointed at Yang Chu and roared at the other punks around him.

"This is bad. They're really going to fight."

Fish Head Xu grew anxious when he saw the ponytailed punk calling for his men.

He was not particularly sharp, but he had drifted around the streets since childhood and fought more times than he could count. He had long understood certain principles.

When he had offended someone and was cornered alone like today, acting dumb and playing up his defect usually meant most people would merely laugh at him, give him a few light hits, or let their guard down and give him a chance to escape.

But that same street experience made him vaguely aware that these seventeen- or eighteen-year-old punks were at the age when they feared nothing. If they really started fighting, they would not know their own strength.

"Hey, you're looking for Fish Head Xu. Don't mess with my friend."

Faced with this situation, Fish Head Xu could only put away his deliberately ridiculous act and loudly draw everyone's attention toward himself.

But none of the punks present cared about him now. The three closest punks had already grabbed beer bottles, tables, chairs, and stools after their ponytailed leader finished shouting, then rushed at Yang Chu all at once.

They had even dared to hack at people earlier. A group beating up one person was nothing to them.

Each of them wore a savage expression, their faces full of excitement.

Yang Chu had already risen to his feet after flipping the table.

Facing the punks' attack, he still felt no fear. He did not blink or panic because of the assault. It seemed as though he could clearly see every movement of the people rushing toward him.

In a flash, just as a beer bottle was about to smash into Yang Chu's head and a low stool followed behind it, Yang Chu's consciousness controlled his body as if he were playing a computer game. He suddenly sidestepped, easily avoiding where the bottle fell.

At the same time, Yang Chu stuck out a foot and tripped him. The punk immediately hit the ground with a thud.

As for the low stool smashing toward his back, Yang Chu dipped down lightly and avoided it. Then he stepped on the other man's foot and gave him a gentle push, sending the second punk to the ground as well.

The last punk who followed behind was not holding anything. When he saw Yang Chu duck down, he raised a foot and kicked at Yang Chu's face.

Yang Chu twisted aside again, grabbed the man's calf with both hands, and yanked backward.

With a ripping sound, the crotch of the man's jeans tore open.

"Ah—"

The third punk ended up doing the splits on the ground. His face twisted in agony as he let out a pig-slaughtering scream.

"What are you idiots standing around for? Get him!"

The ponytailed punk apparently had not expected Yang Chu to be so capable. Seeing the others standing there as though stunned, he roared again.

The other punks could no longer care about anything else. They grabbed bowls, chopsticks, plates, chairs, stools, and whatever else was at hand, hurling them at Yang Chu in a clatter.

Yang Chu dodged left and right among the crowd. His movements were not graceful, but every time he was able to break out of the punks' encirclement just before their fists, kicks, and weapons reached him. Retreating and evading by turns, he counterattacked at precisely the right moments against the one or two pursuers closest to him.

His counterattacks had no fancy techniques. They were usually just tripping feet, kicking knees, using momentum to shove people over, and the like.

"Fuck you!"

Seeing the scene descend into chaos, Fish Head Xu did not run. Instead, he suddenly rushed forward and viciously kicked the ponytailed punk in the lower back from behind. Then he grabbed a low stool and knocked down two men trying to join the attack on Yang Chu.

After a chaotic street brawl filled with crashing and banging, all seven or eight punks except one who had fled at the first opportunity were knocked to the ground by the two of them.

"Let's go, Chu-zai!"

Fish Head Xu glanced in the direction where the fleeing punk had vanished, called out to Yang Chu, and took off running in another direction.

Yang Chu could more or less guess that the two who had escaped had gone to call for reinforcements. He did not linger and followed Fish Head Xu away.

The late-night snack stall owner standing at the entrance of the snack shop seemed accustomed to scenes like this. He did not stop Fish Head Xu from leaving. As Fish Head Xu passed him, he merely made a hand gesture indicating the price of tonight's meal.

"Wow, Ch-Chu-zai, I never thought you'd be so good at fighting when you look so skinny."

The two jogged for dozens of meters and turned through several more streets before Fish Head Xu finally stopped, panting heavily. He turned to Yang Chu, his crossed eyes practically shining. "Those bastards might not have much experience, but they're young, quick, and strong. They weren't easy to deal with!"

"I got hit a few times too."

Yang Chu stood where he was, adjusted his heartbeat and breathing, and answered calmly.

During the brawl at the street stall, he had been able to dodge most of the beer bottles, tables, chairs, and stools the punks threw at him once he noticed them.

But he had not emerged entirely unscathed—

His brain could make appropriate responses under such complex and intense circumstances, but his body's foundation was still too weak to fully keep up.

Besides, Yang Chu had not used the maximum force beyond his body's limits for every counterattack, as he had when he first awakened after transmigrating.

So when facing many opponents alone, even though he controlled his body as coldly as if playing a game, he still took several hits to his back, arms, shoulders, and chest.

Even so, in the eyes of others, Yang Chu was already incredibly formidable.

"Is it serious?!"

Only after Yang Chu said so did Fish Head Xu notice the footprints on him and the several tears in his clothes. He said warmly, "The clinics are closed by now. Come to my place. I've got medicinal wine."

Yang Chu turned his head and stared steadily at Fish Head Xu for a while, then suddenly smiled.

"Alright."

If Fish Head Xu's offer to treat him to late-night food had merely given him something to eat while he wandered aimlessly through the night, then after the brawl at the snack stall, Yang Chu found himself thinking more and more highly of him.

Whether it was remembering to neatly pack up the cardboard boxes after hiding in the alley, saying, "The boss taught me that gratitude has to be practical," and treating him to food, or refusing to retreat and flee once the fight truly began, instead taking responsibility himself and telling the others to come at him.

All those details revealed something of his character.

He had a physical defect, perhaps was not particularly bright, and had picked up some of the streetwise habit of boasting, but he was neither insecure nor overly sensitive. Instead, he was forthright, warm-hearted, and responsible.

They hailed a taxi on Nathan Road, and after just over ten minutes, arrived at a residential area.

From the outside, the surroundings looked fairly decent.

They took the elevator to the twelfth floor. Fish Head Xu opened the door with his key, and Yang Chu was surprised to find that it was a rather spacious three-bedroom apartment.

The rooms did not look especially large, but the place was probably over a hundred square meters. By Hong Kong Island standards, it was already a thousand-square-foot luxury home.

The apartment's decor was quite good. It was not high-end, but the windows were bright and the place clean. It was obvious that some care had gone into it.

A punching bag hung beside the living room balcony. Several dumbbells, hand wraps, and other fitness equipment lay scattered across the floor.

The walls were covered with all kinds of movie posters. In one corner of the living room, there were also coiled steel wires and some equipment whose purpose Yang Chu could not identify.

In front of the sofa at the center of the living room sat a twenty-one-inch color television and a VCD player, with a large pile of discs scattered beside them.

There was also a mahjong table in the corner, with the mahjong tiles and ashtrays still left uncleared on top.

"My real boss helped me buy this place more than ten years ago. He said people in my line of work can't hold onto money. If I couldn't keep working someday and had nowhere to live, I'd end up on the streets. It took me several years to pay him back. Friends usually come over to play cards too, and sometimes they stay here for a few nights if they've got nowhere else to go."

Fish Head Xu searched through a wall cabinet in the living room, found a bottle of medicinal wine, and tossed it to Yang Chu.

"Then your boss treated you well."

Yang Chu caught the medicinal wine and sat down on the living room sofa.

Some of his memories from before transmigrating had become blurry after he woke up, but he vaguely remembered that the gap between rich and poor on Hong Kong Island was enormous. Most people's living conditions were not very good, and many dreamed of owning a home of their own.

"I'm going to sleep first. I've got work tomorrow. Make yourself at home. You can sleep in a bedroom or on the sofa. The bathroom's over there. There are clothes in the wardrobe in the room too, so pick whatever you want."

Fish Head Xu yawned and called out to Yang Chu. Not caring in the slightest that Yang Chu was a stranger he had met only tonight, he casually turned and went back to his room to sleep.

He had no guard up at all around Yang Chu.

Yang Chu did not stand on ceremony either. He went to the bathroom for a quick shower, found two clean articles of clothing to put on, and returned to the living room.

Sitting on the living room sofa, he opened the medicinal wine and rubbed it onto several bruised spots on his body.

Then he closed his eyes slightly and accelerated his blood circulation to better absorb the medicine's effects.

Aside from the torn ligaments from before and the minor bone damage caused by excessive force and impact, which had yet to fully recover, most of his injuries were no longer a major issue after his digestive system processed and absorbed food.

After applying the medicinal wine, Yang Chu looked out the living room window and found that the sky was still dark.

The wall clock showed that it was only a little after two in the morning.

Yang Chu's mind was clear. Although he had slept for only half an hour at the pool, the effect had been excellent, and he was not sleepy at all. Moreover, Fish Head Xu's home had no bathtub. Without water, he currently could not sleep or rest, so he simply rose and went to the television cabinet in front of the sofa, turning on the TV and VCD player.

He casually picked a disc and inserted it into the VCD player. Then he returned to the sofa, absentmindedly watching the images on the television while focusing his mind on his body's internal cycles and checking whether he had overlooked the operation of any system.

Constantly monitoring the operation of his body's major internal systems had become Yang Chu's most important task.

Yang Chu had no problems with systems such as respiration, circulation, movement, and digestion. The operation of these systems was directly connected to his survival and ability to act, so he constantly focused his mind on them without slackening.

But systems such as the urinary, endocrine, lymphatic, and even reproductive systems were not things he could attend to at every moment. He only occasionally directed his attention toward them, giving them a slight nudge as if beating a drum.

These were also the systems within Yang Chu's body most prone to disorder.

"Take this punch—"

"Hmph! Ha! Ha! Ha!—"

Just as Yang Chu finished internally examining his body's major systems, an intense fight scene on the television in front of the sofa suddenly caught his attention.