Chapter 772 - 721: The Final Madness! (1)
The magazine emptied. The world, filled with a dense, pungent cloud of gunpowder smoke, seemed to fall silent.
CLICK.
When Chen Shan saw that his Browning had only killed insignificant henchmen and not one of Ma Yunhai’s seven companions, his world shattered. The small, empty pistol slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.
WEE-OO! WEE-OO!
At the same moment, the wail of approaching police sirens cut through the air.
Seeing the gun fall, one of the pampered scions who had narrowly escaped death shoved aside the corpse he had used as a shield. He scrambled to his feet, his face pale and his body trembling, and pointed a shaking finger at Chen Shan. "You dog, Chen! You motherfucker, you actually tried to kill us? Fine! That’s just fine! I’ll show you what a real player from Beijing is capable of!"
This was hardly a wise move. The crisis wasn’t over; Chen Shan was still dangerous. But such is human nature. Having survived a hair’s breadth from death, they were coiled tight with an unprecedented terror that had seeped into their very souls. As soon as they found a moment’s release, their instincts took over, demanding they vent the fear and tension that had built up inside them.
It wasn’t just Tong Tianlin; the other scions felt the same. With the exception of Ma Yunhai, they all pushed away the bodies that had served as their shields and staggered to their feet.
"You dog! Out of bullets? Are you desperate now? Huh? Motherfucker!" another one screamed.
"This started with you, but I’m telling you right now, this ends with your entire fucking clan! We won’t spare a single one of them!"
Terror was written across their pale faces as the traumatized young men roared with fury. They had nearly said goodbye to the world, and the close call had pushed their hatred to its absolute peak. To hell with the idea that trouble shouldn’t touch one’s family. If any of Chen Shan’s relatives had even the slightest skeleton in their closet, they would all be uprooted to quench this rage!
"Haha... Hahaha! I, Chen Shan, did what I did. You think I care about any of that? I’ve said it before, eighteen years from now, I’ll be a hero again! You think without bullets I can’t handle trash like you? Do you think I climbed from a punk brawling at the train station to where I am today just because of your so-called support? Ha!"
With a final roar, he ignored the pain wracking his body and lunged at Ma Yunhai and his group.
To rise from a common thug into the man known in the Underworld as Mountain Master, Chen Shan had survived countless assassination attempts. He had faced so many knives, guns, and bats over the years that he had lost count. Without formidable fighting skills, the grass on his grave would be three feet high by now.
"Hold him down! Don’t let him touch the young masters!" But just as Chen Shan launched his attack, Director Wang, still kneeling on the ground, bellowed the order.
His circumstances were completely different from Chen Shan’s. Chen Shan was already a dead man trying to drag others down with him; that was understandable. But Director Wang was different. He didn’t want to die; he hadn’t reached that point of utter despair. He had to protect these young men at all costs. For one, he hoped they might forgive his blindness in this matter. More importantly, he had to protect them. If any harm came to these scions, he and everyone with him would face a devastating reckoning at the hands of their powerful families. He could not afford that price.
"Wang Chengdong, you’re fucking asking to die!" Chen Shan roared upon hearing the order.
But it was too late. At Director Wang’s command, his men had already scrambled to their feet, forming a protective wall around Ma Yunhai’s group. Though their own friends had just been used as human shields by these very same young masters, the men remained loyal to Wang Chengdong. After securing Ma Yunhai’s group behind them, they turned and swarmed Chen Shan without a second thought.
Chen Shan was a capable fighter, but "capable" was relative. Against a swarm of men handpicked by Director Wang to be his personal bodyguards, he stood no chance.
After a few brief moments, a scream of pain erupted. Chen Shan crumpled to the ground, beaten down. One of the bodyguards expertly jumped onto his back, yanked his arms behind him, and bound his hands tightly with a strip of cloth torn from his own shirt.
Fueled by grief and rage over their fallen comrades, the bodyguards didn’t stop there. Fists and feet rained down on him like a storm. Yes, their friends died because Ma Yunhai’s group had used them as shields, but those young masters were people even Director Wang knelt before. How could they possibly direct their anger at them? So, they vented all their frustration on Chen Shan.
In that moment, no one saw the once-powerful ruler of Beijing’s Underworld. After Ma Yunhai’s phone call, everyone knew Chen Shan was now nothing more than a beaten dog, and they were free to kick him while he was down.
"Stop it, you motherfuckers, don’t hit my dad!" Watching his father scream in agony, Chen Yifan wailed as he tried to crawl forward.
He was filled with nothing but regret. If I could go back, I would have listened to Xiao Rou. I never would have provoked that monster, Qin Fan—a man even these powerful scions had to call Lord Qin. I’m not an idiot. I know this is all because of that bastard! If it weren’t for him, they never would have come here. Dad wouldn’t be... he wouldn’t be like this! And it’s not just him. It’s my fault, too. I ruined everything. I ruined Dad. I destroyed everything he built over all these years! It all came crashing down so fast, so suddenly... just because the girl I like got her shoe stepped on. Just because I was an arrogant fool who wanted to show off for Xiao Rou!
No one paid Chen Yifan’s garbled sobs any mind. They let him crawl uselessly across the ground as the ruthless beating continued. Director Wang didn’t stop them; he knew he had no right. Ma Yunbin and the other scions certainly wouldn’t intervene. They watched with cold eyes, letting the sight wash away their lingering fear and soothe their burning rage.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Just then, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed along the Great Wall. Twenty or thirty fully armed police officers were sprinting toward the scene. Minutes earlier, they had all heard seven gunshots ring out. Gunfire on the Great Wall—this was without a doubt an incident of the highest severity.