Darkness receded like the tide, and Fang Cheng found himself standing at the entrance to the apartment building.
He wasn't hurt at all, and his clothes were clean and neat.
As expected, everything that had happened just now had been fake.
But Takeshi Takeyama was real. He stood not far ahead, wearing an ordinary T-shirt and jeans instead of that flashy pink suit.
Takeshi Takeyama's face was deathly pale, and he was drenched in sweat. He looked at Fang Cheng in terror, then turned and tried to run.
Fang Cheng immediately used Short-Range Dash. This time, it worked at last. In an instant, he closed the distance and gave chase.
Takeshi Takeyama reacted quickly enough. Hearing a sound, he spun around and threw a punch, but hit nothing.
He hastily raised his fists into a fighting stance, but he couldn't see Fang Cheng at all. He could only catch a glimpse of a flickering shadow.
He swung a desperate punch, but it missed again. A moment later, he was struck hard in the face, chest, and stomach.
"Ah—!"
Takeshi Takeyama let out a scream and fell onto his back, without even seeing how he'd been attacked.
This was Farmer's Three Punches, a technique Fang Cheng had come up with himself. It had no fancy flourishes; it was all about speed, precision, and ruthlessness, and it worked wonders against rookies.
He bent down, grabbed Takeshi Takeyama, who was still groaning, and drove a knee into his stomach.
Takeshi Takeyama doubled over like a shrimp and vomited up a large amount of only partially digested food.
Fang Cheng grabbed him by the throat with one hand and pinned him against the hallway wall, lifting him up. "You foolish little brother... No, who sent you to kill me?"
Takeshi Takeyama's face turned red.