Chen San collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
Yang An strode into the hall, clutching a blood-drenched head in his hand. At that moment, everyone present recognized who had arrived.
Wang Gou'er erupted in fury!
He hadn’t gone looking for Yang An.
Yet here Yang An was, daring to come to him instead.
And even killing someone in public! As if Wang Gou'er meant nothing to him! Wang Gou'er shot to his feet, bellowing, "Yang! What the hell are you doing?!"
Yang An lifted his gaze.
His eyes locked onto Wang Gou'er as he hurled Chen San’s severed head straight at him!
With the boost of tenfold combat power!
The gory head flew like a boulder, cutting a crimson arc through the brightly lit hall with a howling gust of wind!
It smashed directly toward Wang Gou'er’s face!
Though Zheng Huaiyi of the Revival Hall had sold Yang An counterfeit medicine,
he had treated Wang Gou'er’s injuries with the finest spiritual herbs. Now, Wang Gou'er had mostly recovered, his strength restored to that of a ninth-rank martial artist. He raised his foot—
—and kicked Chen San’s head into a pulpy explosion.
It burst like a water balloon, splattering blood and gore across the floor.
Back at the Yang residence,
Yang An’s reckless, life-risking fighting style had left Wang Gou'er with bitter memories. The moment he shattered the flying head, he tensed, eyes locked onto Yang An, expecting a sudden assault.
But Yang An did no such thing.
Instead, while Wang Gou'er was busy kicking the head apart, Yang An calmly turned, shut the door behind him, slid the wooden bolt into place, and even secured the iron lock for good measure.
The meaning behind this action was unmistakable.
Wang Gou'er understood instantly.
This kid was here to wipe them all out!
Alone!
This wasn’t just disrespect—it was outright humiliation. Wang Gou'er’s face twisted between rage and disbelief before he let out a chilling laugh, jabbing a finger at Yang An. "Good! Good! Good! You’ve got some nerve, Yang Family Second Son! I almost admire your arrogance!"
"Think you can take us all on by yourself, huh?!"
"Fine! I’ll grant your wish!!"
Wang Gou'er took a step forward, roaring at his dozen-strong gang of thugs, "Whoever brings me Yang’s head gets two thousand taels of silver!!!"
Two thousand taels!
At that number, the thugs’ eyes practically turned into silver coins. With that much, they could buy multiple properties in Yunzhou City, acres of fertile land, and even seven or eight concubines!
If spent wisely, it could last three generations!
Pumped up like rabid wolves, the thugs lunged forward, their eyes bloodshot with greed.
"His head’s mine!"
"Bullshit! I’ll kill anyone who tries to take it from me!"
"Fuck off! First to chop it off keeps it!"
Under Wang Gou'er’s lavish promise,
the thugs howled like a pack of starved beasts, already treating Yang An as easy prey.
Yet—
Before they could even pounce,
Yang An was already upon them, dagger in hand, his face devoid of emotion!
With tenfold combat power surging through him,
his speed in close quarters was terrifying.
The instant his foot left the ground, the golden dagger in his hand became a blinding streak of light!
The thugs barely had time to react.
Yang An was already in their midst, a whirlwind of death!
One thug, charging with a raised blade, met Yang An’s icy, lifeless gaze—and felt a primal fear seize him. Then, a cold arc of steel flashed before his eyes!
Thud!
The blade’s glow faded.
A crimson line split the thug’s forehead—and in the next moment, his body and weapon were cleaved cleanly in two.
Entrails spilled onto the floor as the bisected corpse collapsed.
Second kill.
Without pause, Yang An’s free hand shot out, clamping around another thug’s throat like a vice!
His eyes were frost.
As if he weren’t gripping a man, but a chicken. His fingers tightened—
—a sickening crunch echoed, followed by a gush of blood from between his fingers. The thug’s throat was pulverized into mush!
Yang An flicked the blood from his hand.
The thug staggered back, clutching his ruined neck, gurgling helplessly before collapsing, dead.
Third kill.
Two deaths in seconds. An invisible aura of slaughter radiated from Yang An, drowning the remaining thugs. The courage Wang Gou'er’s silver had bought withered instantly.
The thugs hesitated.
But Yang An did not.
He had come through wind and snow tonight for one purpose:
To kill.
To slaughter every last one of these beasts!
Leave none alive!
KILL!!!
With tenfold power came tenfold exhaustion. Yang An couldn’t afford to waste a second. In two strides, he closed in on three men.
Qin Guo'er’s dagger was truly a divine weapon!
A horizontal slash—
—and two thugs were severed at the waist, their guts and filth spilling out as they screamed in agony.
Fourth and fifth kills.
The bisected men didn’t die instantly.
Their shrieks of torment filled the hall as blood sprayed onto the face of the thug beside them.
That man’s legs turned to jelly.
The club he’d meant to smash into Yang An’s skull slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground as he turned and fled, wailing for mercy.
Too late.
Yang An’s iron grip seized the back of his neck, hoisting him into the air like a ragdoll.
A single kick—
—and the thug’s waist, hips, and internal organs exploded from the force.
Sixth kill.
From the moment Yang An entered the hall, barely a breath had passed.
Five moves. Six corpses.
Of the original dozen thugs, only six remained.
This wasn’t a fight.
It was a massacre.
The survivors’ greed had long since evaporated. Now, they only wanted to live.
Weapons clattered to the floor as they scrambled for the door, shrieking in terror.
But the door was locked.
Sealed tight by Yang An himself.
Trapped, the thugs clawed at the exit, sobbing in desperation.
Yang An hurled a corpse at them.
BAM!
Bone and flesh exploded on impact.
One thug was crushed instantly; the others were sent sprawling, battered and bleeding.
Seventh kill.
Yang An walked toward them.
A stomp shattered a spine.
Another crushed a chest.
A third pulverized a skull.
Eighth. Ninth. Tenth.
Step by step, corpse by corpse, soon only two of Wang Gou'er’s twelve thugs remained breathing.
To those last two,
Yang An was no longer human.
He was a demon. A flesh-eating fiend from the depths of hell!
Terror emptied their bowels and bladders.
They collapsed to their knees, kowtowing and wailing.
"Lord Yang, spare us! We were wrong! Show mercy!"
"We’ll never cross you again! Never!"
Yang An showed no response, coldly raising his dagger.
At that moment.
Wang Gou'er's furious roar echoed from behind him.
"Die, you Yang Family brat!"
Originally, Wang Gou'er had heard that Yang An was nothing but a frail scholar, weak and defenseless. At first, he hadn’t taken him seriously, and in his carelessness, he had nearly lost his life in the Yang household.
Now he knew his intel had been wildly off the mark.
Yang An was no scholar—he was clearly a martial artist who had concealed his strength, and his rank might even be no lower than Wang Gou'er's own.
Unable to gauge Yang An’s true power,
Wang Gou'er had planned to let these thugs test him first, to better understand his opponent.
But now?
In mere moments, nearly all of his dozen subordinates had been slaughtered by Yang An—and they hadn’t even managed to reveal anything about his abilities!
Wang Gou'er could no longer stay idle.
He grabbed his nine-ringed broadsword and leaped into the air, bringing the blade down with a vicious slash!
The deadly arc of steel flashed behind Yang An, yet his expression remained as cold as ever.
He didn’t even turn his head!
Instead, he seized one of the thugs and hurled him backward as a shield while his dagger plunged into another’s throat. With a motion as smooth as peeling an apple, he circled the blade around the man’s neck and severed his massive head.
Eleven down!
By the time Yang An turned around, the thug he had thrown as a shield had already met his end beneath Wang Gou'er’s blade.
Twelve dead!
Now facing Wang Gou'er directly,
Yang An—who had done nothing but kill since entering the room—finally spoke his first words.
"Your turn."