Counterfeit Hero

Fatty spoke as if he were discussing something entirely mundane.

However, to those nearby, his tone carried an air of arrogant disregard for the consequences.

In front of him were six bodyguards, visibly well-trained and battle-hardened. For anyone to employ such bodyguards, and to have figures in the global spotlight lower themselves to get service from Fanani, is a feat no one else in this mall could achieve.

Yet, this Fatty in front of us seems completely unlikely to be someone who can effortlessly make others pay a price.

Without sufficient power and influence, saying such things only invites mockery.

In the ensuing commotion, the Bald man chuckled, arms crossed, looking at Fatty with a mocking gaze. "Do you really not know your limits, or is your IQ insufficient?"

Fatty smirked and glanced at the Bald man, "I’m giving you one last chance, have them come over."

"Get lost! Don’t force me to mess you up." The Bald man finally concluded that Fatty was a dimwitted fool. Seeing the crowd growing, he irritably waved a hand.

"What’s going on?" The middle-aged man who had just entered the shop quickly came back out.

He frowned, glanced at the crowd gathered at the entrance, and whispered quickly to the Bald man, "What are you doing? Don’t you know the lady despises this kind of thing? Handle it immediately!"

"This guy is brain-damaged..." Upon hearing ’the lady,’ the Bald man became instantly nervous.

The middle-aged man glared at him and turned to shoo Fatty away like an insect, his arrogant face showing unhidden disgust, no longer maintaining any previous pretense of civility but only raw contempt and threat, "Get out or I’ll not be so nice."

"I’m not leaving." Fatty laughed defiantly, shaking his head quickly.

"Throw him out, and those two women with him!" The middle-aged man sneered, turning to the Bald man, saying quietly, "Do it while the lady is trying on clothes, be quick and clean. Tell the mall security to keep him out once he’s thrown out. The lady is already in a bad mood, and seeing such a crowd will have consequences!"

"Yes." The Bald man hurriedly glanced at the shop, giving the bodyguards behind him a fierce look.

The bodyguards quickly understood, dispersing swiftly; three started pushing back the crowd, apologizing repeatedly while acting firmly. The other two approached Fatty quickly.

As the two bodyguards got close, Fatty pointed to the left one naively, "Wrong, this isn’t the one I want."

"If you don’t get lost, I’ll break your legs." The Bald man said viciously.

Few knew, including the Bald man, that the six bodyguards were selected from military Special Soldiers, then strictly trained, before turning into bodyguards. In combat, an ordinary bodyguard couldn’t last three moves against them. In firearms, driving, sniping, explosives, electronics and small-unit battle coordination, they were leagues apart.

These six, rather than being bodyguards, were a six-man special squad.

On the battlefield, if such a squad infiltrated the rear, fully armed, it would spell disaster for any unit. They were elite among elites, experts in mountain and jungle warfare; given enough time, they could effortlessly erase a full-strength battalion from the map.

For them, killing had become a nature, an instinct. If this weren’t Chuckna and not Feiyang, if this weren’t a bustling mall avoiding disturbances, the Bald man would’ve acted sooner. Breaking a pestering Fatty’s leg was insignificant and routine.

"You want to break my leg?" Fatty glanced at the two moving-tower-like bodyguards approaching him from both sides, half-smilingly asked the Bald man.

"Get out!" The Bald man’s patience was exhausted, he spat a word through gritted teeth, his face fierce as he glanced at Helen on the phone and the meek Meiduo behind Fatty, saying, "If you don’t want to see your female companions dragged out by the hair, get lost immediately..."

"Smack!" A sharp slap sound that made people’s teeth ache suddenly erupted.

"Screw you!" Just as the Bald man’s words came out, the enraged Fatty struck like lightning, backhanding a slap across his face. The force of Fatty’s large hand made the Bald man’s face harshly tilt to the left, his burly body staggering.

That slap was quick, precise, fierce. Customers ready to turn away, and security guards and the female manager rushing over, all were stunned by the vicious slap.

Everyone saw, with Fatty’s fierce slap, the Bald man spit blood and teeth like a spray from his mouth, and his face, like it had been hit by a bat, swollen and deformed from mouth to ear. The deformation happened so quickly that one could clearly see the spread of blood-red under his skin.