No Pain

The streetlights were dim, and the intersection was secluded.

The diesel engine of the dump truck idled with a low, rumbling roar.

The small black sedan had flipped several times and now lay overturned, its scattered parts, glass shards, engine oil, and gasoline leaving the surrounding dozen meters in a state of utter wreckage.

Two men jumped down from the dump truck. One was a foreigner with golden-brown hair, a high nose, and deep-set eyes. Standing over 1.9 meters tall, he had thick, muscular arms and a torso bulging with muscle, covered only by a sports tank top, paired with tactical trousers and heavy boots.

The other man was shorter, around 1.75 meters, but equally brawny. He had a round face, narrow eyes, and a thick, sturdy build; though not as tall as the foreigner, his muscle mass was even more impressive.

Standing there, the two looked like a black bear and a white bear.

The pair stared at the overturned sedan, scanned their surroundings in silence, and seeing no other vehicles or pedestrians passing by, they strode toward the wrecked car.

With two loud clangs, the car doors, already deformed from the impact, were ripped clean off by the two men.

A harsh, grating sound followed, accompanied by the tinkling of shattered glass.

The muscular foreigner grabbed the shoulder of the gang underling in the backseat—whose sternum had already been crushed—and with a violent tug, hauled him out of the car and tossed him onto the ground.

Next, Black Skin Sha, who had been in the front passenger seat, was dragged out by the round-faced brawny man, followed by Yang Chu and the other underling from the back, each pulled from the wreckage one by one.

The round-faced man reached into his pocket, pulled out a photograph, and began comparing it to the faces of the men on the ground.

"Help me... help me—"

Just then, the driver in the front seat seemed to regain consciousness from the daze of the collision. Seeing the others being pulled out, he began to cry out for help.

Hearing the driver's pleas, the muscular foreigner walked over to the driver's side door, gripped the frame, planted a foot against the chassis, and gave a fierce heave. The dented, deformed door was ripped away instantly.

He reached into the car, unbuckled the driver's seatbelt, and dragged him out.

"Th... thank you..."

The driver sat on the ground, his face covered in blood, whispering a weak word of thanks to the muscular foreigner.

But the next moment, the foreigner let out a strange laugh, clamped his massive hand onto the driver's head, and twisted his wrists with a sudden, violent force.

Snap—

A crisp sound of breaking bone echoed through the air. The driver's head twisted a full 180 degrees to the back; his body convulsed twice before he slumped to the ground, dead.

The round-faced man finished comparing the photo and identified Black Skin Sha lying in the middle. He first felt the man's face, then raised a massive fist and slammed it into Black Skin Sha's chest.

With a dull thud, the unconscious Black Skin Sha's body jerked, his eyes fluttering open as if waking, but then he went limp and still once more.

The round-faced man knelt beside Black Skin Sha, pulled a two-inch-long, razor-sharp knife from his waist, pressed one hand against Black Skin Sha's head, and began to trace the blade along his cheek, actually beginning to peel the skin from his face.

The muscular foreigner, having finished off the driver, walked over.

Seeing that the round-faced man had found their target, he turned his attention to the others lying on the ground.

Crack, crack—

The two underlings in the back were killed one after the other as the foreigner snapped their necks.

The foreigner's gaze then locked onto Yang Chu, who was lying at the edge of the group, a bloodthirsty, cruel smile spreading across his face.

He crouched down beside Yang Chu, his hand, as large as a palm-leaf fan, reaching out to grab Yang Chu's head. But just then, Yang Chu, who had appeared unconscious the entire time, suddenly snapped his eyes open.

He raised both hands to block the foreigner's grip, twisted his body while still on the ground, and arched his back, driving his right foot into the foreigner's abdomen.

A dull, heavy thud rang out.

The muscular foreigner had never expected Yang Chu to move, nor did he anticipate the incredible, explosive power behind the kick.

His two-hundred-plus-pound frame was sent flying. He rolled twice on the ground before steadying himself and scrambling back to his feet.

Using the momentum of the kick, Yang Chu pushed off the ground with his hands and stood up.

His expression remained calm and unruffled as he looked at the foreigner and the round-faced man, who was still hunched over Black Skin Sha, meticulously peeling away skin. He had no idea who these two were.

However, the fact that the foreigner had stood up as if nothing happened after taking his kick was slightly beyond Yang Chu's expectations.

Though he had never tested the limits of his own strength, he knew that it was nearly impossible for an ordinary person to take a hit from him and remain unfazed.

"Ah—"

The foreigner, clearly enraged by the setback, looked as if his eyes were spitting fire. He hammered his chest twice with his right fist, producing loud, dull thuds, and roared as he charged at Yang Chu again.

Despite his massive size, he was not the least bit sluggish. In the blink of an eye, he crossed the few meters between them and unleashed a jab at Yang Chu.

Yang Chu sidestepped the jab, but the foreigner immediately followed up with a hook aimed at his left ribs and abdomen.

Yang Chu retreated a step, but the man leaped forward, driving a knee toward Yang Chu's face.

Given the foreigner's strength, it was easy to imagine that if that knee connected, Yang Chu's entire face would likely cave in, reduced to a bloody mess.

But at that exact moment, Yang Chu suddenly lashed out with his own foot, striking from bottom to top.

The kick was fast and fierce, landing squarely in the foreigner's groin. The massive force sent the man flying backward once again.

With a loud thud, the muscular foreigner collapsed onto the ground, his body convulsing violently. It was clear that the kick had dealt a truly fatal blow.

Yang Chu ignored the foreigner and turned his gaze toward the round-faced man, who was still focused intently on peeling the skin from Black Skin Sha's face.

"Ura—"

But just then, the foreigner, who had been convulsing on the ground, suddenly had his eyes turn blood-red and, with a wild, crazed look, lunged toward Yang Chu.

"Hmm?"

Yang Chu was caught completely off guard; the explosive power of that kick could shatter the bones of an ordinary man. Even if this foreigner were exceptionally sturdy, his vitals down there should have been pulverized, yet he still possessed the strength to fight.

"Does it not hurt?"

Having read a vast number of books over these past few days, he knew that the lower vitals were connected to numerous nerves. A heavy strike there would not only incapacitate a person but could even lead to immediate death in severe cases.

However, the current situation allowed Yang Chu no time for further thought. His heart began to pound violently, his skin flushed red, and he charged headlong toward the incoming foreigner.

Without any fancy footwork, he slammed his entire body into the muscular foreigner's chest, sending him flying backward once more.

This time, the foreigner could not get back up; his sternum had caved in, and a large amount of blood bubbled from his nose and mouth.

Yang Chu stood where he was, swaying slightly. His left shoulder hung limp; clearly, he had not come away unscathed from such a brutal collision.

Just then, the burly man who had been carefully peeling the skin from the face of Black Skin Sha stood up from the ground, his frame resembling a black bear.