Flying Car Gang

The conversation was indeed heating up, but that was the privilege of the guy with the crew cut; the skinny scholar couldn't get a word in edgewise.

This was like twisting a knife into the skinny scholar's already riddled heart.

His expression darkened instantly. He glanced at the metal rod Wang Wen was holding and fell silent.

The others finally noticed Wang Wen, who had just appeared.

"Great, we've got a full team now. Let's start the climb!" the crew-cut guy shouted. He stood up, turned to the girl beside him, and said, "Little sister, remember to hide behind your big brother later. Stick close and don't get lost, got it?"

The girl blinked, then nodded obediently.

The skinny scholar, who had been watching from the sidelines, curled his lip in disdain and let out a soft, scoffing sound, careful to keep the volume low enough that the crew-cut guy wouldn't hear.

[Tenth floor, starting.]

As the mechanical voice faded, the miniature drone in mid-air blurred and eventually vanished.

The massive door at the front of the garage slowly began to rise.

Before it had even fully opened, the roar of engines and a chorus of shrill, eerie shrieks erupted from outside.

"Biker gang?" The crew-cut guy's face changed. He hurriedly scanned the surroundings, but aside from a few worn-out tires, the garage was empty.

Before he could decide whether to grab a tire for protection, a swarm of leather-clad figures wielding batons and machetes roared into the garage on motorcycles, quickly surrounding the group.

The bikers wore helmets, hiding their expressions, but judging by the constant revving of their engines and their piercing shrieks, they were definitely not model citizens.

In the chaos, the crew-cut guy finally grabbed a tire and held it up, watching the bikers warily.

The attackers circled without moving in, their intentions unclear. The crew-cut guy clung to a sliver of hope, praying this floor could be cleared peacefully.

Wang Wen, observing quietly from the side, saw through his thoughts and shook his head.

Another fool who thought the lower floors meant lower difficulty.

Whether it's the tenth floor or the hundredth, as long as it's a combat-focused integer floor, fighting is inevitable. If you don't strike first and just wait for them to make the move, are you planning on being buried right where you stand?

Wang Wen tightened his grip on the hammer handle.

It seemed his new teammates were unreliable; he would have to take matters into his own hands.

What a pain.

Seeing them fawning over the "femme fatale," he had actually been planning to slack off for one floor to save his energy.

Honk-honk.

A motorcycle directly in front suddenly blared its horn.

The bikers in front, behind, and to the sides all moved at once, weaving through the climbers. The first strike knocked the unlucky fat man to the ground, and a following biker swung his machete with the momentum of his bike, slicing across the fat man's throat.

Blood sprayed.

The fat man's neck was nearly severed.

He clutched his throat with chubby hands, trying to stem the flow, but it was useless.

In an instant, his face turned pale, and he collapsed, his legs twitching.

Seeing that the enemy was out for blood, the crew-cut guy finally stopped waiting. He let out a roar and hurled the tire at a biker in front of him.

The tire struck the biker square in the head, the force knocking him off his bike. He tumbled to the ground, taking his companion down with him and creating a small pocket of chaos.

"Run!" the crew-cut guy shouted to the girl. He took off toward the gate, grabbing a discarded machete from the chaotic zone as he passed.

The girl followed obediently, her running speed even slightly faster than the crew-cut guy's. When she realized this, she quickly slowed her pace to "stay behind him" as requested.

As long as he had the energy, he would definitely look after the stunning girl; as for the others, the crew-cut guy didn't have the time or the inclination to care.

Fortunately, the "others" were managing quite well on their own.

The skinny scholar had jumped away the moment the fat man was cut down, hiding safely beside the girl.

Once the crew-cut guy cleared a path, they didn't need any further prompting; they took off running.

Wang Wen was less fortunate. He was the second target after the fat man. Two motorcycles crossed paths, one rider swinging a baton at his head while the other swung a blade at his legs, clearly intending to cripple him.

As for whether he'd lose his upper or lower half, they were leaving that choice to him.

Unfortunately for them, Wang Wen was an adult—he wanted both.

His left hand flicked in a strange arc, and a short, cold-glinting arrow flew out with incredible stealth, accurately piercing the gap at the base of the blade-wielding biker's helmet.

The rider slumped, his bike flipping over and skidding to the wall far away, where he lay motionless.

The other biker, who had been charging with a baton, paused in shock. Before he could lash out with his weapon, Wang Wen stepped forward and tapped him down with his hammer.

Wang Wen shook his numb wrist, intending to deliver a few more blows to finish the job, but he was surprised to see that the crew-cut guy had already cleared a path.

Feeling a surge of relief, he held back, slipped along the wall through the most inconspicuous corner, and bolted out the gate to catch up with the "organization."

Outside the garage lay a wide, flat road.

On both sides were villa-style buildings, their high, spiked fences cutting off any hope of climbing over to hide.

All that remained was the endless road stretching out before them.

The guy with the crew cut ran for a while without finding any turns or exits, dumbfounded, before rushing to the roadside to grab the non-spiked base of the guardrail, shaking it violently in an attempt to force it open.

Wang Wen glanced back at the way they had come, where he could vaguely see the biker gang from the garage regrouping and lining up to charge in their direction.

He thought for a moment, then walked over to the crew-cut guy with the hammer handle to help.

The crew-cut guy saw Wang Wen and nodded, signaling for them to count down and exert force simultaneously.

The girl rubbed her hands together, wanting to step up and help, but was blocked by the crew-cut guy, who panted, "Manual labor, huff, we men, do it."

Off to the side, the skinny scholar saw the girl's attention was entirely focused on those two, with none on him, and couldn't help but sneer with disdain, "Two idiots, all brawn and no brains."

His voice was very low.

Other than Wang Wen's ears twitching slightly in front, only the girl turned her head toward him in confusion.

Having successfully attracted the girl's attention, the skinny scholar felt quite smug and was eager to show off his special skills.

He quickly took off his shoes and, relying on the coordination of his big toes and two fingers, actually climbed up through the gaps between the dense, sharp spikes of the guardrail!

The girl opened her mouth in shock.

Seeing her surprise, the skinny scholar felt even more triumphant and turned to say to her, "Don't worry, I'll pull you up as soon as I'm over."

Before he could finish his sentence.

Whether it was caused by the crew-cut guy's violent shaking or the stimulation of the skinny scholar about to climb over, the spiked guardrail suddenly crackled with electricity.

Wang Wen immediately pulled his club back and retreated to a safe distance.

The crew-cut guy was also quick-witted and withdrew in time, letting go and jumping back to dodge it.

The skinny scholar had it much worse.

He stuck to the guardrail, eyes rolling back as he convulsed, his joints visibly twisting.

Wang Wen took off his jacket, twisted his neck, and rotated his wrists to warm up.

Then, he wrapped the handle of the hammer with his jacket, raised it, and with a shout of "Hey!", knocked the convulsing skinny scholar several meters away from the guardrail.

After landing, the skinny scholar spat blood while still twitching.

He pointed a stiff, trembling finger at Wang Wen, unable to speak for a long time.

Wang Wen hoisted the hammer handle onto his shoulder and said with a carefree expression, "Don't mention it."

Hearing this, the skinny scholar gasped repeatedly, looking as if his end were near.