Chen Yuan Showed No Mercy

Chen Yuan was woken by the sound of an iron door sliding open.

The iron bed was too hard, digging into him as he lay on it, and the mattress was impossibly thin. He had tossed and turned all night without sleeping well.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. The ceiling light was still on, its stark white glare making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

A uniformed guard stood at the door, carrying a plastic bucket filled with steamed buns and pickled vegetables.

Each man got one bun, a spoonful of pickles, and a bowl of porridge thin enough to see his reflection in.

Chen Yuan took his bun and bit into it. Dry and hard, it felt like sawdust in his mouth.

How was Sister Ezi doing over there? Had she had breakfast?

After breakfast, the inmates were taken to a large workshop to work. Their job was gluing paper boxes together, paid by the piece—just one cent per box.

Hundreds of men sat packed onto long benches, heads lowered, hands endlessly folding, gluing, and pressing, repeating the same motions over and over.

The workshop was eerily quiet, with only the rustle of paper and the occasional muffled cough.

Chen Yuan sat down, picked up a sheet of cardboard, folded it, applied glue, joined the edges, and pressed it flat.

His movements were awkward and slow. The men beside him had already finished three or four boxes before he had properly finished his first.

After working for about an hour, Chen Yuan suddenly felt someone watching him.

He looked up. Two rows away, several men were staring at him.

The man in the middle was big and bald, with a scorpion tattooed on his neck. Its tail curled around his neck to behind his ear, looking almost alive.

Two men flanked him, one tall and thin, the other short and fat. Both were staring at Chen Yuan.

Chen Yuan paid them no attention and lowered his head to keep gluing boxes.

A little while later, a hand slammed onto the tabletop in front of him.

Chen Yuan raised his head.

The bald man stood before him, hands in his trouser pockets, looking down at him.

The tall, thin man and the short, fat man stood behind him, with another seven or eight men farther back.

"New here?" the bald man asked.

Chen Yuan nodded.

"How old?"

"Eighteen."

The bald man looked him up and down, his gaze sliding from his face to his chest, then to his waist. He smiled in satisfaction, exposing half his yellowed teeth.

"Good-looking kid."

He reached out and patted Chen Yuan's cheek. "Nice pale skin, too."

The bald man withdrew his hand and jerked his chin toward a corner of the workshop. "Let's talk over there."

Chen Yuan understood the look in his eyes. He had never seen a look like that before, but somehow, he understood it.

A sickening chill shot up from his tailbone! Chen Yuan was so revolted that he nearly vomited up his breakfast.

"No."

The bald man paused, then sneered.

"No? Do you know who I am?"

Before Chen Yuan could answer,

the tall, thin man leaned in. "Brother Lei's talking to you. Are you fucking deaf?"

Brother Lei stopped smiling and bent forward, bringing his face so close that his cigarette breath blasted straight into Chen Yuan's face.

"You'd better come! Otherwise, your time here is going to be very unpleasant."

Chen Yuan stayed seated and glanced around the workshop.

The other inmates kept their heads down and worked. Occasionally, someone glanced over, then hurriedly looked away. No one dared intervene.

Brother Lei reached out again and laid his hand directly on Chen Yuan's shoulder. His fingers squeezed hard, then slowly slid downward.

Chen Yuan shot to his feet.

Brother Lei stepped back and smiled. "That's more like it. Come on, let's—"

Before he could finish, Chen Yuan's fist was already there.

One punch landed squarely on the bridge of his nose.

Brother Lei flew backward, knocking over the long benches behind him in a clattering heap.

He landed flat on his back. Blood spurted from his nose and smeared his face. His eyes rolled back, his legs kicked twice, and he went still.

The workshop fell silent.

Everyone stopped working and turned to look.

The tall, thin man reacted first. "Fuck!"

He snatched up the glue board from the table and swung it at Chen Yuan's head.

Chen Yuan twisted sharply aside, and the wooden board swept past his ear. He caught the man's wrist, yanked him forward, and drove his knee hard into his stomach.

The tall, thin man doubled over like a shrimp, spewed a mouthful of sour fluid, and collapsed limply to the floor.

"Everyone, get him! Put this brat down!" the short, fat man shouted.

The remaining seven or eight men immediately surrounded him. Some grabbed benches, others carried glue buckets, and some came bare-handed.

A scar-faced man was the most brazen of them all. He tightly gripped a bamboo ruler used for making boxes, one end already sharpened to a point.

"Get him!"

All seven or eight charged at once.

Chen Yuan stepped back, then drove his right foot into the floor and shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow. Before the scar-faced man had even finished raising his bamboo ruler, Chen Yuan's shoulder slammed into his chest.

Mountain-Leaning Charge!

The scar-faced man flew more than three meters and slammed into the wall. The bamboo ruler flew from his hand as he slid to the floor, mouth hanging open, unable to draw a breath.

Chen Yuan did not pause for an instant.

He turned and raised his left arm, blocking a descending bench leg head-on, while his right fist smashed into the wielder's ribs.

The man grunted and crumpled on the spot.

The third man was only halfway through his punch when Chen Yuan closed in and drove the point of his elbow into his chin. With a sharp, solid crack, the man toppled backward, the back of his head striking the floor hard.

The fourth man turned and ran in terror.

Chen Yuan did not chase him. He bent down, picked up the sharpened bamboo ruler, weighed it in his hand, and flicked it away.

The bamboo ruler sliced through the air and struck hard behind the man's knee. His leg buckled, and he dropped to his knees with a thud, clutching his leg and howling in pain.

The remaining four froze where they stood. None dared take another step forward.

Six men were already sprawled across the floor.

Chen Yuan stood among them without a drop of sweat on him.

"Anyone else?"

The four shook their heads repeatedly and backed away, step by step.

The workshop fell utterly silent, hundreds of inmates all staring in his direction.

Just then, the rear door was flung open, and more than a dozen men surged inside.

Their leader was a square-faced, heavily bearded man in his forties. A long dragon was tattooed on his arm, its tail winding all the way down to his wrist.

He glanced at the men scattered across the floor, then looked at Chen Yuan. His expression instantly darkened.

"Who the fuck are you? Do you know whose turf this is?"

"No."

The bearded man stepped forward, and the dozen or so men behind him advanced together.

They grabbed benches, bamboo rulers, and glue buckets. Several held sharpened pieces of metal that gleamed coldly beneath the lights.

"Lei's my brother." The bearded man pointed at the unconscious bald man on the floor. "You touch him, you disrespect me."

"Your brother? What kind of brother?"

The bearded man blinked. "What?"

"Do you know what he does? Has he taken care of you, too?"

The bearded man caught his meaning. His face grew even uglier, the fleshy muscles in his cheeks twitching.

"You've got some balls, kid!"

He waved his hand. "Get him! Beat him hard. Whatever happens, I'll take responsibility."

More than a dozen men roared and rushed him together.

Chen Yuan drew a deep breath.

His grandfather had told him that Baji Fist was unmatched in ferocity, invincible at close quarters. Once a strike was thrown, life or death was decided.

Avoid fighting if you could. But once you started, never give your opponent a chance to strike back.

He stepped forward.

The first man lunged straight at him with a piece of metal, stabbing viciously toward his stomach. Chen Yuan twisted aside, and the metal scraped past his waist.

His right hand clamped around the man's wrist and pulled him in, while his left elbow drove hard upward.

Crack!

The arm popped out of its socket. The man screamed and fell to his knees, clutching it.

The second man swung a bench at him. Instead of retreating, Chen Yuan advanced, driving forward with his shoulder.

The bench slammed into his back and shattered, but he did not budge. His right fist crashed into the man's chest.

Just one punch!

The man's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed limply to the floor.

The third man stabbed at him from the side with a metal shard. Chen Yuan shot out his left hand, clamped firmly onto his wrist, and twisted hard!

The shard clanged to the floor. Chen Yuan kicked the man's knee, buckling his leg and forcing him to his knees, then brought his own knee up hard into the man's face.

Blood sprayed from his nose, and he toppled stiffly backward.

Four men surrounded him at once, blocking him in on every side.

Chen Yuan did not panic in the slightest.

He stamped his right foot into the floor and spun sharply, swinging his right arm across. A Baji Sideways Elbow smashed into the neck of the man in front of him. The man flew sideways, crashing straight through two worktables.

The man on his left threw a punch immediately afterward. Chen Yuan ducked sharply, and the fist swept over his scalp.

Dropping into a crouch, he swept his leg across the man's ankles. The man lost his balance and fell backward, striking the back of his head hard against the floor. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out instantly.

In the instant the two men behind him froze, Chen Yuan had already risen and turned to face them.

The two exchanged a look and stepped back in unison.

Chen Yuan did not pursue them. He simply stood there, coldly sweeping his gaze across the room.

Another seven or eight men lay on the floor. Some clutched their arms and wailed, some curled up holding their chests, some had blood covering their faces, and others had passed out entirely.

The legs of the few still standing trembled uncontrollably. Unsure whether to raise their weapons or lower them, they stood frozen, not daring to move.

The bearded man froze in place, his face deathly pale.

He instinctively took a step back.

Chen Yuan's gaze settled on him, and he spoke evenly.

"Come here."

The bearded man shook his head repeatedly and took another terrified step back.

Chen Yuan took another step forward.

The bearded man turned and ran. He was fast, but Chen Yuan was faster!

Chen Yuan caught him in three strides, seized the back of his collar, and jerked him backward.

The bearded man lost his balance and crashed onto his back with a heavy thud.

He had barely tried to roll over and get up when Chen Yuan planted a foot on his chest, pressing down so heavily that he instantly lost his breath.

Panicking, the bearded man clutched Chen Yuan's foot with both hands. His face flushed scarlet, and ragged sounds rasped from his throat as he struggled to breathe.

"Had enough?"

The bearded man nodded frantically.

The workshop was dead silent.

Of the hundreds of inmates, not one dared move!

More than a dozen men lay strewn across the floor, some groaning, some twitching, some motionless. Benches had overturned, tables had fallen, and cardboard, glue, and half-finished paper boxes littered the floor.

Chen Yuan stood in the middle of it all, a few drops of someone's blood staining his T-shirt.

Hurried footsteps suddenly sounded at the entrance.

Zhao Jianguo pushed open the workshop door and rushed in.

Two guards hurried in behind him, accompanied by a man in a white shirt. His shoulder insignia identified him as the detention center's deputy director.

They had barely reached the doorway before they froze!

Zhao Jianguo looked at the men sprawled across the floor, then at Chen Yuan standing in their midst, and could not help sucking in a sharp breath.

The deputy director's surname was Sun. He was in his early fifties and had a large belly. At the sight before him, his mouth fell open and stayed that way.

"W-what... what happened here?" Deputy Director Sun's voice rose out of its normal pitch.

No one answered him.