Chapter 41: Completely Unhinged!

In a flash, everyone had dashed out, leaving only Ling Qiu and Song Ningxue behind.

Oh, wait... there was still one more—Li Gang, whose leg had been broken by a falling object. Yet, despite his injury, the fellow was surprisingly tenacious, dragging himself forward on the ground, grimacing and groaning with every move.

Ling Qiu couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “It’s just a minor fracture, nothing fatal. Want me to help you out?”

But Li Gang was in no mood for gratitude. He bared his teeth at Ling Qiu and snapped, “You... eternal criminal! Don’t talk to me! You... you hit Wang Hu... now we’re all going to suffer for it...”

Ling Qiu looked at Li Gang with a touch of pity. “Alright then, you just take your time crawling.”

With that, he shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled out of the private room.

“Ling Qiu! This... isn’t right... we should help him,” Song Ningxue said, bending over to assist Li Gang.

But Ling Qiu only offered a faint smile. “No need. If he’s thinking of escaping, it’s already too late.”

Sure enough, once the group reached the first-floor lobby, they were met with a shocking sight.

The main doors had been tightly shut.

And in the center of the hall, in front of seven or eight imposing men in black suits, sat a man in a crisp suit, hair slicked back with oil, legs crossed on a sofa, a cigar pinched between his fingers. His face was expressionless as he surveyed the room.

His demeanor was calm, but there was a cold, ruthless glint in his eyes.

Led by Zhang Junfeng, all those who had tried to flee suddenly found their legs weak. Several timid girls even collapsed onto the ground, paralyzed by fear. No one dared make a sound.

Song Ningxue felt a chill run down her spine. She quickly pulled out her phone, only to discover—there was not a single bar of signal.

“Don’t bother trying to call the police. They’ve jammed the signal,” Ling Qiu said nonchalantly, still standing with his hands in his pockets by Song Ningxue’s side, a faint smile on his lips.

Song Ningxue could almost faint from exasperation. How could Ling Qiu still be smiling at a time like this?

Finally, the middle-aged man with the aura of a boss slowly exhaled a puff of smoke. His voice was deep and hoarse. “Let me introduce myself. I’m the general manager of this club—Wang Bao.”

A collective gasp swept through the crowd, nearly sending some into a faint.

It was over. This was the infamous Manager Wang of the Sky Garden Club.

Everyone in Jiang’an City knew that Wang Bao was one of the Four Kings of the Night Market District—and by far the most dangerous of them all.

Rumor had it that Skull Brother, who had recently conquered three city blocks, didn’t dare set foot on South Street. All because the Sky Garden Club was untouchable.

“Who was running the table tonight?” Wang Bao’s voice was still low and rough.

At his words, almost everyone instinctively turned to look at Zhang Junfeng, whose face was ashen with terror.

“You?” Wang Bao shot Zhang Junfeng a cold glance. “My brother was badly injured by your group. Tonight, unless you can offer sufficient compensation, none of you are leaving here. You—plus three others. Each of you, break both your hands. Then everyone kneels and knocks your head on the floor ten times. Do that, and I’ll let you go.”

With a wave of his hand, one of Wang Bao’s men, understanding immediately, pulled out a gleaming short knife and tossed it to the ground with a clang.

The cold glint of the blade shattered whatever resolve remained in the others.

“Mercy!”

“Please, big brother, let us go!”

One after another, people fell to their knees, scrambling to kowtow for their lives.

Zhang Junfeng was the quickest to kneel, pale as death. “B-brother, can I just pay instead? I can’t live without my hands!”

“Pay?” Wang Bao’s eyes narrowed, his voice seething with menace. “You really think I, Wang Bao, care about your money?”

“My family is rich! My father’s incredibly wealthy! We have assets worth over a hundred million! Brother, just let me make a call and my family will send the money right away! If you let me go, all our money is yours!”

As he spoke, Zhang Junfeng kowtowed desperately, banging his head on the floor.

“A hundred million in assets?” Wang Bao’s forehead twitched. “You think that’s a lot? Worth more than the injuries my brother suffered?”

It was as if he’d heard the world’s funniest joke.

Since he’d started working under Sister Zhizi, managing the Sky Garden Club and all of South Street, he’d had tens of millions in assets, at least. And with Sister Zhizi’s backing, even billions would be within reach.

Would he really forgive his brother’s attacker for the promise of a mere hundred million from some punk?

“It was him!” Zhang Junfeng, seeing Wang Bao remain silent after several kowtows, grew more desperate and pointed at Ling Qiu. “Brother, he’s the one who beat up Mr. Wang Hu! I’m innocent, brother!”

His eyes darted about, suddenly struck by another idea. He crawled forward on his knees, pleading, “And—and brother, just now Mr. Wang Hu took a liking to her—Song Ningxue! How about this—if she spends the night with Mr. Wang Hu, could you spare my hands? If one night’s not enough, then two, or a week, a month, a year!”

The frailty of the human heart, its ugliness—revealed in every word of Zhang Junfeng’s collapse.

Hearing this, Song Ningxue was shaken to her core. She’d always known Zhang Junfeng was no good, but never imagined he could be this vile at such a young age.

Wang Bao lifted his gaze, looking at Ling Qiu and Song Ningxue. Even he was taken aback by Song Ningxue’s beauty—despite having seen countless women, he had to admit she was one in a million.

“My terms remain the same,” Wang Bao exhaled another puff of smoke, his tone icy. “Four people step forward and break both their hands. And now, two more additions.”

He pointed at Ling Qiu and Song Ningxue.

“The one who did it—leave both your legs and hands behind. As for the woman—no need to kneel. Stay tonight to make up for it.”

“Wang Bao, is it?” At this moment, Ling Qiu finally spoke, yawning. “It’s not too late to apologize now.”

At Ling Qiu’s words, everyone else could have wept with fright.

Oh my god! Brother, please—stop talking! Are you trying to make him even angrier?