Spy-x-War Showdown
Chapter 110 - 109 This is Really Dumbfounding

Chapter 110: Chapter 109 This is Really Dumbfounding

Yang Yi’s punch was still not up to scratch; if it were Zhang Yong, one punch would definitely have knocked that black guy down.

But all Yang Yi could do was force the tall and muscular black man in front of him to step back two steps, and that was due to pain, not because he had been pushed back by Yang Yi’s blows.

"Ah."

With a strange cry, a black man kicked towards Yang Yi. Yang Yi reached out to grab the man’s foot, but his hand clutched at nothing.

He had trained for a long time, but implementing it in a real fight was not so easy. Yang Yi missed when he struck out, but fortunately, it didn’t affect anything. He pulled his body back to dodge the incoming leg and then surged forward, kicking the black man’s shin.

"Hit him! Stab him!"

The black man who was hit roared in anger, and then a skinny black man next to him immediately pulled out a knife from his waist.

Yang Yi dodged to the side and with a bang landed a punch on the chest of the man who drew the knife, and then the skinny black man flew out without uttering a peep.

Yang Yi felt exhilaratingly refreshed; fighting in real combat was indeed different from sparring with someone in practice.

In terms of physique, Yang Yi looked much smaller compared to the black men surrounding him, but as the fight went on, it was Yang Yi who gained complete dominance.

Like a tiger entering a flock of sheep, Yang Yi alone had more than a dozen black men tumbling all over, crying out in pain but completely unable to touch him.

Soon, the dozen or so black men were all down on the ground, but this time Yang Yi hadn’t been excessively brutal. He hadn’t dislocated anyone’s joints or broken bones; at most, they would just have swollen faces and be in pain for a few days.

Yang Yi actually wanted to practice the Grappling techniques of Mian Zhang Fist, but dislocating joints was a matter of finesse; it required intimate knowledge of the joints. A true master would use skillful force, but Yang Yi was far from reaching that level. He could only force someone’s joints apart with brute strength, which was practically no different from straightforwardly breaking bones.

After the fight, Yang Yi felt invigorated, but just then, he noticed Rodriguez had just run over. Picking up a knife one of the black men dropped, Rodriguez squatted down and aimed to stab it at the leading black guy.

"Stop!"

Yang Yi shouted, staring at Rodriguez in astonishment, "What are you doing?"

"Stabbing him!"

Rodriguez replied confidently, looking somewhat puzzled.

Yang Yi was the one who was puzzled. He said helplessly, "Why would you stab him? He’s already been beaten down!"

"Uh, aren’t we supposed to stab him? Okay, I thought we were supposed to teach them a profound lesson."

Yang Yi waved his hand dismissively, saying with annoyance, "Let it be once they’re beaten. Do you want to be thrown into solitary?"

Rodriguez replied with a puzzled face, "If someone has to be locked up, of course I would go. Why would the boss take the blame? What’s the point of having underlings then?"

Yang Yi suddenly laughed; he thought this kid Rodriguez wasn’t bad. Not only was he decisive, but he also displayed the consciousness of a loyal underling. He seemed a bit slow-witted but having a bit of slowness didn’t seem to be a major issue.

Rodriguez quickly hid the knife he had picked up inside his clothing, and Scollin also picked up one. Those black men had a total of two knives, and now both were in their possession.

"That’s enough for them. Did you find your enemy?"

"I found him, over there! Boss, why aren’t the prison guards coming over?"

Yang Yi looked at the prison guards who had all turned their heads away and then kicked one of the lying black men, saying, "Hey, why are you lying on the ground?"

The black man said weakly, "We were just goofing around, we’re practicing wrestling, yes, we’re practicing wrestling..."

At that moment, a guard approached but from a distance said, "Hey, what’s going on here."

"We’re practicing wrestling, sir, it’s none of anyone else’s business."

"Get up quickly, you bastards."

The black inmates grumbled as they climbed to their feet until they were all standing. Seeing that they could indeed stand, the guard immediately turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.

"You’re lucky, let’s go."

Calling over his followers, Yang Yi walked arrogantly toward the members of Hell’s Angels.

There were ten of them, all white, speaking and laughing loudly, as if they were cast from the same mold, all with beards, and all big and tall, some looking chubby middle-aged men.

Looking somewhat chubby doesn’t mean they can’t fight—many bulky men with round waists can outfight muscle-bound strongmen, having even greater strength, and the layer of fat makes them more resilient to punches.

So just by size alone, Yang Yi was definitely at a disadvantage, but the key was skill—no matter how strong they were, if they couldn’t hit him, it wouldn’t matter.

He mustn’t get surrounded with no way out. He had to either take them down quickly in a decisive battle or keep moving and fighting, using agile footwork to take them down one by one.

No point in wasting words, no fun in that, just start the fight.

Yang Yi walked straight up to the Hell’s Angels. A man with two long beards nodded at him, and then the group all turned to stare at him.

Yang Yi walked right up to them, and then a muscular man with arms crossed surveyed him from head to toe before saying with a contemptuous face, "You got a problem? Little monkey."

Yang Yi’s face stiffened, and he said, "Dare to curse at me, huh? Fight!"

Yang Yi kicked out, purely on reflex. No, more like reflex of the foot.

A high kick struck the burly man’s stomach, causing him to double over in pain, but the burly man didn’t fall, only screaming in agony, "Kill him!"

Since Yang Yi had extended his tendons, now high kicking was especially easy for him, so he liked to use high kicks—they looked impressive.

Yang Yi moved forward again, another high kick landing on another muscular man’s face.

Yang Yi’s attack caught others off guard; even now several with their arms crossed hadn’t lowered them yet.

This kick finally brought one down, but the remaining men, in unison, all pulled out knives.

Eight standing men, eight knives flashed, and they quickly spread out to surround Yang Yi.

Seeing so many knives, Yang Yi truly felt fear and immediately turned to run.

Not running was a death wish. Surrounded by people stabbing with knives, one after another if a single stab wasn’t dodged, it would be game over.

Just then, Rodriguez, who had been ordered by Yang Yi to stand back and watch, drew his knife and, with a strange yell, rushed forward.

Yang Yi jumped, now certain that Rodriguez wasn’t pretending—he truly was a daredevil!