In no time at all, the brawl went from several against one, to several against two, and in the blink of an eye, it became more than a dozen against four.
Though the numbers still weren't evenly matched, their momentum and fighting strength had suddenly risen sharply.
The thugs hadn't gotten much advantage over Song Yuan, the troublesome punk, but relying on their numbers and weapons, they had remained confident of victory.
But unexpectedly, Song Yuan had called in reinforcements. There weren't many of them, but they were ruthless—men capable of taking on three opponents alone. After smashing the liquor bottles they had stuffed in their pants with a series of loud blows, they turned around and began snatching weapons from the thugs. Once they got hold of them, they started swinging without restraint, as if they had come out to drunkenly raise hell.
One wasn't enough—two more skinny-looking boys squeezed in afterward. One of them was the one who had been shouting outside earlier. The moment he entered, he was protected in the very center, clearly a coward who had been dragged in by force.
But the other one was not to be underestimated. The instant he entered, he swung his stick around wildly, then specifically targeted the strongest-looking guy among them, completely unafraid of the huge difference in height and build.
The little leader who had been shouting earlier about having his ribs kicked broken had been standing safely in the rear, watching and directing. Seeing this, he could not help frowning. Had they run into some drunken lunatic? Was the guy blind or something?
Meanwhile, the strongest brother in his eyes was about to cry. He might have looked burly and muscular, but his reactions were far from nimble.
Whenever he was pulled into a gang fight,