Chapter 81: Ninja, Endure

The short man suddenly accelerated, catching Liu Jingye off guard, but given his limited stature, he could only attack Liu’s lower body, clearly intending to topple him. Liu Jingye didn’t bother dodging—he took the kick head-on, confident in the strength of his own legs, choosing a move that would injure them both if necessary.

His knee took the blow, but at the same moment, his fist smashed into his opponent’s face. Though the short man tried desperately to dodge in that split second, Liu’s fist still grazed his brow, instantly drawing blood. The blood covered one of the man’s slanted eyes, blurring his vision and making his expression even more twisted.

The short man wiped the blood from his face, gave a strange howl, and attacked again, seemingly even faster than before. Liu Jingye opened up his stance and counterattacked. His moves looked simple, but each blow combined power and speed, targeting vital spots. With his height advantage, he was like the eye of a storm—no matter how quick the short man was, he couldn’t break through.

Liu Jingye pressed forward relentlessly, his assault like a raging tide. The other’s speed was impressive, but he could only barely evade Liu’s attacks, with no chance to retaliate. Now it was a contest of stamina and endurance.

“Hmph, these moves feel familiar—could he be one of them?” Liu Jingye wondered as he fought. “I’ll know soon enough.”

To the onlookers, the fight seemed evenly matched, but in truth, Liu Jingye had yet to go all out. He was forcing his opponent to reveal a weakness, hoping to discern his true identity.

Suddenly, Liu Jingye quickened his attack further, each strike heavier, completely enveloping the short man in his assault. The little fellow bounced up and down like a flea, barely escaping danger at every turn.

In a desperate gambit, the short man took a heavy blow to his ribs, let his body twist with the impact, then pushed off the ground and darted away, finally breaking free of Liu Jingye’s blockade, darting off as though to flee.

A cold smile curled at Liu Jingye’s lips. “Is he finally showing his true colors?” he thought.

He gave chase at lightning speed. Just as he was about to reach out and grab the fleeing man’s vest, the short man suddenly twisted his upper body—something flashed cold in his hand, aimed straight at Liu Jingye’s throat.

Bang! A gunshot rang out. The muzzle in Liu Jingye’s hand spat fire like a serpent. Sparks flew in midair, followed by a metallic clatter.

“Aaagh!” Before the crowd could process what had happened, the short man screamed in agony, flinging himself to the ground and writhing in pain.

Now everyone could see clearly: the short man had been running in front with Liu Jingye in hot pursuit. When he spun and flung something, Liu Jingye had shot it down midair; at the same moment, he had stamped his foot onto the short man’s ankle, snapping it cleanly and separating it from the foot, leaving the man rolling on the floor, screaming in torment.

“You—you fired your gun! That’s not fair!” someone from the Kōshō gang suddenly shouted.

Liu Jingye sneered, turning his gun on the crowd. Instantly, everyone fell silent.

The onlookers, regaining their composure, began to notice what had happened. The short man had spun and thrown something, only to have Liu Jingye shoot it out of the air. Not far from where Liu Jingye stood, they spotted an eight-pointed, diamond-shaped steel star—sharp as a knife, thin as a sheet of paper, still gleaming dangerously despite being bent out of shape. Clearly forged from tungsten steel, it shimmered with a toxic green hue—obviously laced with deadly poison.

“A ninja star?” someone in the crowd gasped.

No wonder Liu Jingye had fired—his opponent had thrown a poisoned ninja star! But how could this man know how to use such a weapon? People couldn’t help but recall his strange, foreign intonation; they’d been distracted by the other thugs’ accents and hadn’t paid it much mind until now.

Ignoring the man’s wailing, Liu Jingye stomped on his throat, gun in hand, his voice cold. “Are you from Iga or Kōga? How many of you are here? Speak!”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the short man groaned in pain.

His answer was met with a thunderous gunshot. The bullet pierced his knee, shattering both bone and the tile beneath him.

He screamed like a slaughtered pig. Liu Jingye pressed his foot onto the man’s mouth, repeating the question: “Which school are you from? How many of you are here? What have you done?”

“Baka…” Liu Jingye let go of his mouth, and the answer was the most despised curse in Japanese.

Bang! Another gunshot. The other knee was pulverized, destroying the man completely. With a muffled groan, he passed out from the pain.

“You… you…” The Kōshō men were terrified out of their wits. None had ever seen such a ruthless killer. At such close range, at such speed, Liu Jingye had shot down the flying ninja star; and without even looking, he’d crippled the little foreigner’s legs. His ferocity and marksmanship were beyond belief.

Liu Jingye swung his gun towards the Kōshō leader, face ice-cold and radiating murderous intent. “How dare you collude with the Japanese, traitors to your own country? I could execute you all right now.”

The leader glanced at the gun, then at the crippled foreigner and the blood pooling on the floor. He had no doubt Liu Jingye would pull the trigger.

With a thud, the leader fell to his knees, kowtowing desperately. “Brother, I swear I know nothing! Please, don’t shoot—I really know nothing!”

“A Japanese just walked out from behind you, and you claim you know nothing?” Liu Jingye sneered, the muzzle drifting toward the man’s brow. Compared to foreigners, traitors were even more loathsome.

The leader wailed, “I really didn’t know he was Japanese! If I had, I’d have beaten him up myself! He was sent here by the old man—told me whatever he wanted to do, let him, and not to interfere.”

“Who is this ‘old man’?” Liu Jingye demanded.

“Master Huang—Huang Guangzong,” the leader confessed.

“I knew he was in league with the Japanese, but I didn’t expect him to bring in ninjas. Clearly, he has more on his mind than just investment,” Liu Jingye thought grimly. Aloud, he asked, “Did Huang Guangzong tell you anything else? Is he coming back to reclaim control of Kōshō?”

“Brother, I’m just a small fry—I don’t know any of that,” the leader sobbed. “All he said was for us brothers to hold our turf, whatever happened.”

“He’s clearly trying to secure Kōshō’s base. The old fox wants to retake the helm!” Liu Jingye mused.

With a cold laugh, he said, “Then you can go report back—tell him you couldn’t keep the territory.”

“Yes, yes, I’m leaving now,” the leader stammered. “Please, brother, give me a name, so I have something to tell him.”

“No need. I’m sure your old master will know who I am. Now go.” Liu Jingye grunted. “And take the little foreigner with you.”

The Kōshō men, as if receiving a royal pardon, hurriedly picked up the bloodied Japanese and rushed off. In an instant, the vast nightclub fell silent.

Lin Shengnan and the others stared in disbelief. The fight they’d witnessed had been breathtaking, but it was Liu Jingye’s sharpshooting and overwhelming presence at the end that truly stunned them. They restrained their excitement, hesitant to approach, awed by the lingering menace that clung to Liu Jingye.

But Shi Tou, his face swollen like a pig’s head, didn’t care—he charged forward with a cheer, bursting with admiration. “Boss, you’re incredible!”

With Shi Tou leading the way, the others rushed over to celebrate in wild excitement. Lin Shengnan wanted to join them but didn’t want to throw herself at Liu Jingye like the others.

“Boss, can I see your gun?” Da Niu asked timidly.

Liu Jingye pointed at the toy gun in Da Niu’s hand. “Don’t you already have one?”

Hu Ming, always calm, asked, “Boss, who are you really? Why do you have something like that?”

Liu Jingye was clearly reluctant to answer, looking a little awkward. Fortunately, the thoughtful Lin Shengnan stepped in. “Alright, you lot, don’t forget we still have business to take care of!”

The others suddenly remembered—they’d seized the territory, now it was time to reap the rewards.

They turned their attention to the club owners. Trembling, the owners descended from upstairs, eyes filled with fear and awe. Though used to brawls and even the occasional gunfire, nothing in their lives had prepared them for what they’d just witnessed—a scene straight out of an action film, one that would leave an indelible mark on their memories.

“Gentlemen, if there are no objections, shall we sign the contract?” Lin Shengnan said calmly.

“Contract?” The owners, intimidated by Liu Jingye, were nonetheless baffled by the word.

Liu Jingye, too, was curious—did turf wars now require contracts? Should they have a notary present, perhaps even file it with the police?

Sensing his thoughts, Lin Shengnan shot him a glare, signaling him to keep quiet. She pulled out a formal document—it was a legitimate contract.

Liu Jingye glanced at it and understood immediately: it was a security agreement. The owners would officially hire them to provide security for the club, maintain order, and ensure normal business operations. The annual salary, however, was more than a typical guard could earn in a lifetime.

“Brilliant, truly brilliant!” Liu Jingye gave a thumbs-up. “This sets a new precedent—an innovative path for the underworld!”

“Enough with the nonsense.” Lin Shengnan blushed, scolding him. Despite his earlier display of ferocity, she still had the final word—who was in charge was clear for all to see.

With the contract signed, both sides were now in a legitimate employer-employee relationship. Even if someone else took over the turf, the owners were still required to pay them according to the contract. If the police ever investigated, they’d have a legitimate identity. It had to be said, Lin Shengnan was meticulous—a true talent for the future.

No—she was already a force to be reckoned with.