Su Qianqian herself was not faring well.
This all-out, high-intensity mental assault had nearly drained the last bit of her strength.
A violent headache churned inside her skull like countless steel needles stirring relentlessly, her vision going dark in waves.
A sharp buzzing filled her ears.
Warm blood seeped from her nostrils and the corners of her mouth, instantly freezing into dark red crystals in the frigid air.
Her body swayed, and she almost collapsed to the ground.
She couldn’t fall!
Falling now would mean certain death!
Su Qianqian suddenly bit down on the tip of her tongue. The sharp pain and the taste of blood forced a sliver of clarity back into her muddled consciousness.
She saw the spiked club that Brother Qiang had dropped.
She saw the wide-open hole.
She saw the three targets who had temporarily lost their threat.
An opportunity!
The only opportunity!
Survival instinct overpowered all pain and weakness. Su Qianqian burst forward with astonishing speed—though stumbling—lunging toward the opening.
Her target was not the people—
It was the metal spiked club wrapped in wire and shards of glass, lying just inside the opening.
She grabbed the cold, heavy weapon with both hands. It felt solid and weighty, still smeared with Brother Qiang’s sweat and grime.
The sheer weight nearly made her lose her grip. But she held on tightly, dragging it back with all her strength.
“Hah… hah…”
At that moment, Brother Qiang seemed to struggle back to a sliver of awareness from the earlier mental shock.
The overwhelming pain and confusion had turned his eyes bloodshot, like an enraged bull.
When he saw Su Qianqian take his weapon, he let out a beast-like roar and, without hesitation, shoved his arm back through the hole, trying to grab her again.
“Give… it… back!” Brother Qiang roared, his bloodshot eyes locked onto her.
“Give it back?!”
Su Qianqian’s lips curled into a blood-tinged, ice-crusted smile—almost insane. Yet her eyes were as cold as the ice surrounding Lin Chen.
The fear and fragility from before had vanished, replaced by ruthless resolve and a desperate killing intent born from being cornered.
Without the slightest hesitation, she gripped the heavy club with both hands and used the little strength she had just regained to drive its jagged, glass-and-wire-wrapped end straight toward Brother Qiang’s arm.
It wasn’t a swing.
It was a stab.
Her target—the swollen, injured spot where his arm had been slammed earlier.
“Thud—rip!”
The sickening sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking rang out at the same time.
“Aaaooo—!!!”
Brother Qiang let out a horrifying, pig-slaughter-like scream.
The jagged end of the spiked club plunged directly into his previous wound.
In an instant, flesh was mangled into a bloody mess.
The intense pain nearly made him pass out.
He yanked his arm back violently, spraying a burst of warm blood that splattered across the icy edge of the opening—freezing almost instantly.
“My arm! My arm!!”
Clutching his mangled limb—where white bone could nearly be seen—Brother Qiang writhed on the ground, howling in agony. He had completely lost all ability to fight.
This brutal counterattack became the final straw that shattered the already fragile psychological defenses of the Glasses Guy and the chef, who had just begun to recover from the mental chaos.
Seeing Brother Qiang’s miserable state, and the blood-covered girl inside—her gaze cold, like a vengeful spirit crawling out of hell—a chill from the depths of their souls froze them completely.
“Demon… she’s a demon…”
The Glasses Guy’s face turned pale as paper. His body trembled violently as he staggered backward.
The look in his eyes when he gazed at Su Qianqian was filled with pure terror—none of the earlier greed or fanaticism remained.
The chef dropped his fire axe with a loud clang. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. His pants were instantly soaked, releasing a foul smell.
His eyes were unfocused as he muttered unconsciously, “Don’t kill me… don’t kill me… I didn’t do anything…”
Leaning on the heavy spiked club, Su Qianqian gasped for breath. Each inhale carried the taste of blood and icy fragments.
She cast a cold glance at the three men outside, who had lost all will to fight.
Brother Qiang writhed on the ground, wailing.
The Glasses Guy retreated in terror.
The chef had completely broken down.
For now, she was safe—but she did not relax her guard.
Dragging the heavy weapon, she slowly stepped back and leaned against a metal rack stacked with frozen goods. The icy surface helped clear her mind slightly.
The pounding headache and overwhelming weakness surged back like a tide.
She took out the small notebook she kept close to her body, along with a ballpoint pen. Her fingers, stiff from the cold, struggled to flip it open.
[Enemy List – Black Tiger Gang]
She drew two heavy crosses over Brother Qiang’s name and added a note:
[Physical + Mental double strike! Nice! Even Cai Wenji can solo an assassin!]
After writing, a faint but genuine smile tugged at her lips—tired, yet carrying a hint of pride.
Then she took a deep breath of icy air and once again gathered what little mental strength she had left, carefully “sensing” the emotional fluctuations of the three outside.
Brother Qiang’s consciousness was a chaotic mess, completely drowned in pain and fear, reduced to beast-like howling.
The chef’s emotions were a blank void of terror and pure survival instinct.
But the Glasses Guy…
His emotions were the most complex.
Beneath the overwhelming fear, there was a trace of… struggle.
And a strong… desire to live.
Even… a faint sense of disgust toward Brother Qiang’s brutality—and a yearning to break free from his control.
This discovery stirred something in Su Qianqian’s heart.
Enduring the pounding in her head, her sharp gaze pierced through the opening, locking onto the trembling Glasses Guy.
“Hey! You with the glasses!” Her voice was hoarse from weakness and cold, yet carried an unquestionable calm. “Do you want to live?”