From Igniting Talent to Becoming a Demon God Section 41

Several minutes later, footsteps sounded, and Lu Chao walked out the door.

Perhaps he was thinking of how Zhao Yuanqing had taken care of him when he first transmigrated and was running a constant high fever, or perhaps of the scene back when Zhao Yuanqing had lent him money without the slightest hesitation.

In the end, Lu Chao still couldn't suppress the thought.

"Yuanqing's definitely going to get one hell of a shock."

"It's not far anyway. I'll just treat it as giving him a surprise."

With a faint smile, Lu Chao walked out along Factory Street.

Voices rose constantly from the roadside barbecue stalls, and the aroma drifted everywhere, pouring into his nose.

Under the interweaving light and shadow of neon signs and streetlamps, he soon arrived outside the repair shop.

Crack!

Crack! Crack!

Inside the steel-shed repair shop, the sound of gears turning rang out from time to time.

Incandescent tubes gave off a steady cold light, illuminating every corner of the workshop, where dried, blackened traces of engine oil covered the floor.

Several trucks were parked in the maintenance area, and three or four mechanics were currently bustling around them.

"Xiao Zhao, is it done yet?"

"Almost, almost. Don't rush me."

A coworker's urging voice rang out, and Zhao Yuanqing's reply came from beneath a truck.

He lay on an oil-stained mechanic's creeper, using the light from a head-mounted flashlight to continuously inspect the truck's chassis.

After connecting the last cable, snapping it into the groove, closing the cover plate, and tightening the screws—

Click!

Only after confirming that everything was in order did he give a slight push with both legs and slide the mechanic's creeper out from underneath him.

"Done. No problems with the chassis now."

The bright incandescent light was somewhat dazzling as Zhao Yuanqing slid out from beneath the vehicle.

His black-and-blue work uniform was covered in oil and dust. He stood up, patted his clothes, then pulled off one filthy glove and raised his sleeve to wipe away his sweat. "In a bit, let's inspect the engine one more time, and fix the tire while we're at it."

"That should basically be it. Once we're done, we can clock off—"

Vroom! Vroom!!

Before he could finish, a sudden roar of engines cut him off.

Outside the repair workshop, several white beams of light actually tore through the night and shone in, glaringly bright.

In the span of only a few breaths, four modified motorcycles barged into the workshop, arrogantly revving their engines and constantly letting out violent blasts of sound.

"This..."

The headlights were blinding, shining on their faces from afar.

All that remained in his field of vision was a vast white glare.

Zhao Yuanqing frowned slightly, feeling uncomfortable, and hurriedly raised a hand to block his eyes, trying to see the other side through the gaps between his fingers.

Vroom!

At last, the modified motorcycles visibly came to a stop, but their dazzling headlights did not go out.

Enduring the stinging pain, he looked toward the figures on them. There were seven or eight in total.

Most were around their twenties, some wearing black vests and motorcycle helmets, others draped in open brown jackets.

Most of them held metal bats and long clubs, and on each of their necks was the same tattoo. It looked like a blood-red chain wrapped around their flesh.

"Xiao Zhao, it's the Rock Gang..."

The coworker beside him had gone pale, his voice trembling.

Zhao Yuanqing's heart sank, and he finally made out the Blood Chain tattoo patterns on those people, as well as the appearance of the man leading them.

"What, you're not welcoming me?"

A man stepped down from the motorcycle in the center. He was tall and thin, his brown leather jacket hanging slightly open to reveal a tight black vest underneath.

There was a silver fluorescent pattern on the back of his right hand—clearly a bionic prosthetic.

As he spoke, he removed his helmet, revealing a sinister young face. His black hair was cropped short, and he wore an earring and a nose ring. His mocking gaze swept over everyone.

"Weren't you all pretty capable last time?"

"Let me see who's here this time."

Silence. Dead silence.

Sensing his gaze sweep over them, the three mechanics inside the workshop hurriedly lowered their heads, their bodies trembling slightly, not daring to meet his eyes.

They all knew the Rock Gang's methods. Once you were targeted by them, nothing good came of it—broken bones and torn tendons at the drop of a hat, then kneeling on the ground and paying up.

In the deathly silence, only Zhao Yuanqing remained.

His brow knotted tight, he finally lowered the glove that had been blocking his vision and looked at the young man in the lead.

"Xu Peng, what do you mean?"

"What do I mean... I mean fuck your mother!"

"What, you want to fight?"

"Come on. Aim right here."

The young man named Xu Peng stood where he was, staring mockingly at Zhao Yuanqing as he pointed to his own temple.

Amid the jeers, Zhao Yuanqing's expression turned ugly, his fists clenched tight.

Reason kept him measured, while Xu Peng on the other side let out a cold laugh.

"Heh. You're pretty good at holding it in..."

His eyes were contemptuous. Then he raised a hand and suddenly waved behind him.

"Bring him over!"

His raised voice echoed through the factory. Two Rock Gang members could be seen roughly dragging a figure over.

The middle-aged man in decent work clothes stumbled as he walked, his hair a mess, bruises and swelling on his face as if he had been beaten.

When they saw his face clearly, Zhao Yuanqing and the three mechanics' pupils shrank, their expressions changing drastically.

"Old Dong?!"

"X-Xiao Zhao..."

Old Dong, the owner of the repair shop, opened his mouth. His voice was hoarse as he lifted his swollen eyelids, wanting to speak but stopping short.

Looking impatient, Xu Peng, who stood off to the side, picked at his ear and immediately snapped, "Speak!"

"X-Xiao Zhao, go settle your wages in a bit."

Old Dong's body trembled, and in the end he lowered his head as he spoke.

Zhao Yuanqing's expression stiffened at those words.

"Old Dong?"

He was going to fire him?

"You've really worked hard during this time. Really."

Old Dong lowered his voice, his gaze dodging away, not daring to look at those eyes staring straight at him again. "Let's leave it at that, Xiao Zhao."

"You don't need to come anymore either. Is that all right?"

A chill crept into Zhao Yuanqing's heart. How could he not understand what the man meant?

"Was it Xu Peng..."

"No, no, no. The Rock Gang has already agreed not to collect protection fees from us anymore."

Old Dong hurriedly waved his hands, lowering his head as he said, "Let's just leave it at that, Xiao Zhao. Please, stop asking, all right?"

His voice was hoarse, almost pleading, but the bruises and swelling on his face, along with his disheveled, miserable hair, explained everything.

The atmosphere sank. Zhao Yuanqing clenched his fists, somewhat unable to believe it, his face angry and tinged with a trace of sorrow.

Back when the Rock Gang came to collect protection fees, he had been the one to ask Brother Hao for help, and that was what had resolved the matter.

And now this was the result?

"He told you to get lost."

Xu Peng stood off to the side, his eyes mocking. "Weren't you pretty damn backbone before? What, you want to be a mangy dog and cling here without leaving?"

The words were grating, stabbing into Zhao Yuanqing's heart.