Urban's Fury: The War Dragon God
Chapter 112: Scaring to Death

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Scaring to Death

Li Feng was calm and collected, not panicking in the least.

As the knife descended in a flash, Li Feng flicked his wrist and zipped a coin straight into the knife man’s eye.

The knife man instinctively closed his eyes, and the coin shot directly into his eye socket.

Agonized, the knife man’s movements became distorted. Li Feng grabbed the man’s wrist and, pushing off with the tips of his toes, leapt up to knee him in the chest, clearing a path through the enemies as if he were both wolf in front and tiger from behind.

Li Feng rolled over and saw the stunned thug who hadn’t recovered yet. Acting completely unpredictably, he reached out and grabbed the man by the collar, executing a move akin to the "Geese Landing on Flat Sand."

The Ghost suddenly felt shocked; Li Feng was coming straight for him.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the Ghost turned tail and tactically retreated.

Li Feng watched the Ghost flee, a smirk on his lips, and attacked directly behind him, catching the other thugs off guard.

The thugs in the back hadn’t come to their senses before Li Feng hit them squarely in the face. By the time their bodies started to react, Li Feng was already upon them with limbs-dislocating blows.

Perhaps, many times the greater number yields strength. Single-handedly fighting off two fists is hard, and even a good tiger can’t withstand an attack by a pack of wolves.

But it also depends on the occasion and the strength.

"Kill him for me."

A chill ran down the Ghost’s spine, as if chased by a wild beast, making him feel a bit restless and uneasy.

In the corridor.

Li Feng’s catfish-like fighting technique had the corridor’s thugs feeling extremely frustrated; those facing him directly were no match, and the many behind couldn’t swarm forward because they were blocked by their own guys.

"Make way."

The Ghost was blocked for a moment, and Li Feng seized the opportunity to take a few quick steps and jump, delivering a kick to the Ghost’s back.

The Ghost collapsed onto the thug opposite him, both unable to stay on their feet and tumbling to the ground.

"Go to hell."

Just then.

A sickle knife flew through the air; another, inflamed by humiliation and anger, no longer caring about accidentally striking their comrades, hurled the sickle knife towards Li Feng.

Hearing the whoosh behind him, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, Li Feng turned and caught the sickle knife by the handle.

That moment of hesitation gave the Ghost time to get up.

Embarrassed to such an extent by Li Feng, the Ghost felt his dignity lost and shouted in a fit of rage.

"Kill him, mince him into meat."

There was no need for the Ghost’s bellowing; the thugs around were already boiling with rage.

They were all vicious and brutal folk; in ordinary times, who would dare disrespect them, with the timid not even daring to look them in the eyes.

And now, to lose face in front of some pretty boy; they wondered how they could continue to mix in this world in the future.

Li Feng licked his cracked lips, watching the approaching knife man radiating furious energy, and twirled his knife skillfully in hand.

"It really has been a long time since I’ve cut someone."

Li Feng mumbled to himself, then, instead of retreating, advanced to meet the knife man head on.

The knife man grinned at the sight.

He swung his sickle knife down without delay, the blade flashing with a cold glint, chilling to the bone.

Li Feng didn’t even blink; his knife outpaced the blade in its descent.

In an instant.

A spray of blood burst forth.

Clang.

A sickle knife fell to the ground with a dull thud, a severed hand still grasping the handle.

"Ah!"

The knife man felt a gust of wind sweep past him, looked down at his arm spewing blood from where his hand had been, and the intense pain seared into his mind, causing him to let out a scream.

Li Feng stepped over the knife man, his eyes tinted with a hint of bloodlust and his pupils glinting with a restless excitement; his blood began to boil.

Knife unsheathed.

Blood was bound to be shed.

Li Feng’s wrist flicked horizontally, executing a "Sweeping Thousands of Army" maneuver, and as the blade swept past, a smear of fresh blood splattered on the pristine wall, resembling dotted plum blossoms.

To kill one with a single step, leaving no trace over a thousand miles.

Li Feng was like the chivalrous swordsman in Li Bai’s poem, appearing as though he were two people.

To kill one is a crime; To slaughter thousands a show of strength.

With his sword’s edge fully exposed, Li Feng was like an unsheathed blade that one dared not look directly at.

These usually brash and bold thugs were chilled to the bone by Li Feng’s killing at that moment, and some even completely collapsed upon seeing him, forgetting to run and just shaking uncontrollably in their legs, urinating themselves.

Gulp.

Knife Man had never expected Li Feng to single-handedly overrun so many of Sky Wolf Association’s top knife fighters.

That momentum was like a tidal wave crashing backward, leaving everyone unmatched.

Li Feng stood amidst the pile of corpses, himself surprisingly clean, and suddenly turned to look toward the other end of the corridor; the remaining people were so frightened they stepped back half a step.

Holding his canine leg knife, Li Feng walked back.

It was as if he were strolling leisurely in his own backyard. Yet a glance at the ground, with bodies strewn about and blood painting the floor, was a sight reminiscent of hell that sent shivers down the spine.

It was then that those still standing remembered his name.

Hidden Dragon Li Feng.

Such a ruthless man, to think he’d be someone’s live-in son-in-law, the kind who married into his wife’s family and supposedly lived off a woman—nobody saw it coming.

To marry into a wife’s family was seen as a lack of ability, a shameless deed done by those without pride, yet his presence alone sent chills through them.

This must be a joke.

Not even the trick of playing the pig to eat the tiger was played like this.

Knife Man swallowed nervously, as Li Feng stepped forward, his heart skipped a beat unwillingly. Li Feng was still ten paces away, but Knife Man just couldn’t take it and squeezed back.

Knife Man was never the type to rise through the ranks with his fists; he used his brains, okay?

Knife Man decidedly lost his nerve.

"Move aside."

Li Feng lifted his canine leg knife and called out, neither too lightly nor too heavily.

The thugs, about seven or eight meters away, involuntarily made way towards the sides indicated by the direction of the knife, each swallowing saliva in their throats.

Li Feng watched Knife Man’s retreating back and flung his canine leg knife from his hand.

Thud.

The knife plunged straight into Knife Man’s back.

Thump.

Knife Man stumbled and fell forward, convulsing twice before lying still.

Li Feng walked through the gap made by the thugs as if no one else was there, glanced at Knife Man lying in a pool of blood, and headed to the end of the corridor.

Bang.

Li Feng kicked open the door in front of him.

The clattering of Mahjong tiles reached his ears.

Dragging his suitcase, Li Feng entered a vast living room, where the sound of mahjong abruptly stopped and all the players at the table turned to look his way.

"Who are you, and who let you in?"

A scantily clad model stood up, frowning at Li Feng.

"I’m here to deliver money."

"Delivering money?"

The model glanced at the suitcase Li Feng was dragging, while he turned his attention to the Mahjong table.

"Someone asked me for a management fee of five million. I’ve brought it. Who’s going to collect this money?"

The model’s eyes lit up with interest, boldly approached, and unzipped the suitcase.

"It’s really money, huh."