Not to mention—he completely looked down on Fat Wah's underlings.
His own boys fought and brawled in the streets every single day.
How could Fat Wah's soft-footed crabs possibly compare?
As long as no guns were involved, even if the "blue caps" happened to pass by, they'd just turn and patrol another street.
Seeing Lin Yao walking over slowly with only a handful of people, First Brother's men instantly bristled.
Someone let out a "ka-la" and yanked a steel rod from his waistband—the tip was still stained with dried blood from the last fight.
Someone else pulled a fruit knife from inside his jacket.
They curled their lips, eyes slanted with contempt.
Arrogant—like a bunch of people already diagnosed with full-blown Tang Clan Syndrome.
They were looking at a group of ants about to be trampled to death.
Now look at Lin Yao's side.
Aside from Lin Yao and Ah Bu, there were only a dozen-plus brothers personally trained by Ah Bu who still stood firm.
The remaining twenty-odd guys had already lost their nerve.
Some were quietly shuffling backward.
Others gripped their weapons with trembling hands, eyes full of panic, not daring to even lift their heads.
The disparity in numbers was just too great.
If they really fought, they wouldn't even know how they died.
At this moment, the thought of "running away" had already spun through their minds eight hundred times.
The street was eerily quiet.
Only from Hongyi's side came the occasional clink of beer bottles and the banging of steel pipes.
The shadows of more than five hundred men pressed down on Heng Fung Street like a devouring storm cloud.
Lin Yao's few dozen men were like dust beneath that cloud—ready to be blown away at any moment.
First Brother sat in front of the makeshift folding table, chewing on a piece of braised pork belly, unhurried and relaxed, like a cicada chirping lazily in summer.
His gaze swept over Lin Yao's people, the smile at the corner of his mouth growing thicker.
Lin Yao scanned the black mass of people opposite him, then looked back at his own men whose faces were pale with fear.
A head-on clash was impossible. His capital was far too thin.
Even if the system boost let him win, his own people would probably end up covering half the street in blood.
Someone might even die.
When that happened—funeral money, medical bills—just those costs alone would drag down what little money he had.
At that moment, a thought rose unbidden in his mind:
Capture the ringleader first.
Before First Brother could open his mouth to sneer again, Lin Yao suddenly moved.
Three times faster than an ordinary person—
His body was like a phantom!!!
The stone beneath his foot exploded outward as he launched forward, crossing the open stretch of street in an instant.
Hongyi's men only felt their vision blur.
Before they could react, Lin Yao was already in front of the table.
First Brother had just picked up another chunk of pork belly when he saw Lin Yao rush right up to him—
He didn't even have time to put down the chopsticks before Lin Yao grabbed him by the collar.
The next instant—
Bam!
A fist smashed straight into his face.
Blood burst from his nose, and two front teeth flew out!
First Brother screamed and tried to struggle, but Lin Yao's knee slammed viciously into his stomach.
The pain bent him double.
The chopsticks clattered to the ground with a clack.
Only then did the surrounding Hongyi underlings snap out of it, raising steel rods and machetes as they rushed forward—
—and froze at Lin Yao's next move.
He snatched a short blade off the table.
The blade pressed against First Brother's throat!!!
The icy touch made First Brother freeze instantly, even swallowing back his scream.
"Don't want to see your boss die—then don't move!"
Lin Yao's voice wasn't loud, but it exploded across the street like thunder.
With a slight twist of his wrist, the blade cut a thin red line into First Brother's neck.
"Who dares take one more step forward?"
The men in front stiffened on the spot, weapons raised but not daring to fall.
Hongyi's formation instantly fell into chaos.
"Don't hurt First Brother!"
Some shouted in panic.
Others looked helplessly at the people around them.
The crushing momentum they'd had moments ago collapsed by more than half.
First Brother was dizzy and in agony. The blade at his neck made his whole body tremble. He could only shout hoarsely:
"Don't… don't move! Do what he says!"
Lin Yao stared at him coldly.
"Tell your people to drop their weapons and retreat ten meters."
"Try anything funny, and you know the consequences."
How would First Brother dare resist?
He yelled at the top of his lungs:
"Drop the steel pipes! Drop the knives!"
"Retreat! Back up! Damn it!"
"You still want to rush forward? You want me dead?!"
Hongyi's men looked at each other.
In the end, no one dared gamble with their boss's life.
Weapons clattered to the ground.
Amid the clang-clang of metal, the crowd reluctantly retreated ten meters.
The street, once packed wall to wall, was forcibly cleared into an open space.
Lin Yao kept the blade at First Brother's neck, gripping his collar with his other hand.
He scanned the disordered crowd, then glanced at Ah Bu and the others, who had finally steadied themselves.
The blade was still pressed against First Brother's throat as Lin Yao spoke calmly:
"First Brother, right? Those few of yours who were shouting the loudest earlier—have them step out."
"Whoever's not convinced, I'll fight them."
"One against many. Dare you?"
The blade bit into First Brother's skin painfully.
He didn't dare say a single word of refusal, only shouted:
"The ones just now… the ones who were making noise—come out here!"
As soon as the words fell, three men reluctantly pushed their way out of the crowd—
—the same ones who'd been the most aggressive, drawing steel rods and smashing bottles earlier.
But now, without the backing of numbers, their hands shook as they held their weapons.
Lin Yao shot Ah Bu a look.
"Watch him."
Ah Bu immediately stepped forward, twisting First Brother's arm behind his back.
The short blade shifted angle but remained at his neck, holding him firmly under control.
Only then did Lin Yao release his grip and walk slowly toward the opposite side.
He carried no weapon.
Both hands hung loosely at his sides.
"Damn it—what are you pretending for?!"
A shout suddenly erupted from the crowd.
More than twenty youths in floral shirts charged out wildly.
They looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, faces still carrying traces of childishness—the age where fear of heaven and earth hadn't yet formed.
Fruit knives and steel rods raised high, they screamed as they rushed Lin Yao, clearly planning to overwhelm him with numbers.
The next second—
Everyone froze.
Lin Yao moved like the wind.
Before the first steel rod could even swing down, he twisted his body and dodged.
At the same time, his elbow smashed into the attacker's abdomen.
"Ugh—!"
The youth crumpled to the ground.
In the same motion, Lin Yao grabbed another attacker's knife wrist—
—a light twist!
The fruit knife flew from his hand with a clang.
A following kick smashed into his knee—
Crack!
The youth collapsed with a scream.
In just a few breaths, five men at the front were already down, writhing in pain.
Half a minute later, the rest had no strength left to fight.
Some had their arms dislocated.
Some were kicked flying into nearby stalls.
Others were dropped by a single heavy punch, blood and tears streaming from their noses.
Less than a minute.
More than a dozen youths lay sprawled on the ground, groaning.
They
were scattered everywhere, utterly stripped of their earlier arrogance.
Ah Bu stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide open.