Chapter Fifty-Seven: Infighting?

Watching Deng Chao draw his gun, the one most frightened was actually Zhai Dacheng. Once the gun was out, things had truly reached a point of no return.

“You brat, hurry up and put that gun away!” Zhai Dacheng rushed at Deng Chao, trying to snatch the weapon from his hand.

But Deng Chao kicked Zhai Dacheng aside and pointed the gun at him. “No one comes near. The first person who does, I’ll shoot!”

Zhai Dacheng stared in disbelief. “Chao, have you lost your mind?”

Deng Chao sneered coldly. “Don’t call me so affectionately! If you don’t treat me as your son, I won’t treat you as my father! Since when does a father not stand up for his own son when he’s being bullied?”

Zhai Dacheng was shaking with rage. “You’re all mad! Completely mad! Haizi, what are you just standing there for? Hurry up and take that gun away from him!”

But Zhao Hai, as if suddenly realizing something, bent down, pulled several more guns from his bag, tossed a few to his underlings, and raised one himself. “Boss Zhai, what do we live for in this world? Isn’t it for the thrill of revenge and living boldly? ‘Better to die standing than live on your knees!’ Aren’t they people from the Long Corporation? Let’s take a page out of ‘The Tycoon’ and kidnap the son of Hong Kong’s richest man. I don’t believe we’re any less than Cheung Tze-keung!”

“Cheung Tze-keung is long dead!” Zhai Dacheng snapped. “Why are you following Chao into this mess?”

Zhao Hai gripped his gun tighter, the presence of Yang Meng’s weapon making him feel all the more secure. “Boss, I’ve followed you for years. Back when we were poor, we didn’t care about anything—whoever crossed us, we dealt with them. Now, the more money we have, the less courage we seem to show. Why is that?”

Zhai Dacheng almost lost it. “Isn’t that obvious? Why did we work so hard back then? So we could make money and live well! Now that we have money, why keep risking our necks?”

Zhao Hai shrugged. “Boss, you have money now, but the brothers don’t. I’m throwing everything into this. If you’re not afraid of losing everything, maybe we can even topple an emperor. Just don’t stand in the way of the brothers making a fortune.”

Zhai Dacheng was struck speechless by Zhao Hai’s words.

“Brother Yang, do you have a plan?” Long Teng asked Yang Meng in a low voice.

Yang Meng shook his head. “What plan could I have? Didn’t you see their guns? Long Xixiang, while they’re still confused, why don’t you slip away? Didn’t you hear—they’re here for you.”

Li Xiaoqing quickly said, “The back of the sofa isn’t far from the club’s rear exit. We can escape that way!”

Yang Meng smiled. “You think all of us can sneak away unnoticed? Do you really believe that? Go ahead, ladies first. Take Xixiang and slip out quietly, or it’ll be too late.”

Li Xiaoqing glanced at the still-arguing Zhai Dacheng and the others, then turned to Long Xixiang. “Xixiang, let’s go!”

But Long Xixiang shook her head. “I won’t go. I’m their target—someone’s bound to be watching me. If you want to leave, go by yourself.”

“You’re all staying?” Li Xiaoqing looked at Yang Meng and the others.

Yang Meng shrugged. “I have a grudge with them. Do you think they’ll let me leave?”

Long Teng shook his head. “I can’t just abandon my sister here.”

Ling Feng grinned. “Even as an auxiliary officer, I’m still a cop. How could I just walk away?”

Zhang Qiang added, “This is my club. Where could I go?”

Hu Erbeng said nothing—he just hid a bottle behind his back.

Qi Kun was the funniest, giving Li Xiaoqing a wry smile. “With my size, even a blind man could spot me if I tried to escape.”

In truth, Hu Erbeng and the others wanted to run too, but since the threat was clearly aimed at Yang Meng, they stayed despite their fear.

Yang Meng glanced around. “If you want to run, now’s the time—any later and it’ll be too late!”

Li Xiaoqing looked at the panicked crowd fleeing after the gunshots, then at Yang Meng and the others, who sat as if nothing was wrong. “You’re all crazy!” With that, she flipped over the back of the sofa while no one was watching and slipped out with the crowd.

They had guns, yet these people stayed to await death? She couldn’t understand what gave them such confidence.

Long Teng, still unwilling to give up, whispered to Yang Meng, “Brother Yang, you really have no plan?”

Yang Meng picked up a cigarette from the table and lit it. “You think I’m Superman or something?”

Long Teng hurriedly said, “I already called Bo Wen for backup. They should be here soon, but I didn’t expect them to have guns. What should we do? Can you buy us some time?”

Yang Meng scratched his head. “You’d better tell Duan Bowen to hurry, or we’ll be the ones left for them to clean up.”

Long Teng’s expression hardened. “Let’s see if they dare! Kidnapping me and my sister? The Long family will make them realize there’s nowhere in the world they can hide! Even if they get the money, they won’t live to spend it!”

Yang Meng shook his head. “You misunderstood. Everyone, don’t move from your seats.”

“Huh?” Long Teng wanted to ask more, when suddenly a cloud of white smoke burst forth from somewhere in the club. In an instant, the whole place was shrouded in thick mist—no one could see a thing.

Long Xixiang screamed in terror, clutching Yang Meng’s arm with all her strength. “What’s happening?”

“Miss Xixiang, you’re gripping me so hard you’ll peel my skin off,” Yang Meng’s voice came at her ear.

Annoying as his tone was, Long Xixiang felt unusually safe.

“Meng Meng, what’s going on?” Hu Erbeng asked.

Yang Meng laughed. “Ask our boss Zhang here. Does dry ice in this club come free? What a show!”

Zhang Qiang’s voice came through the smoke. “This isn’t our dry ice. Besides, dry ice can’t do this. And ours in the club—cough, cough—” His words were cut off.

Long Teng spoke up, “Some clubs spike their dry ice. Zhang, you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Zhang Qiang hurriedly replied, “Of course not.” But his tone was unconvincing.

Yang Meng said, “Boss Zhang, it’s best to do honest business.”

“Yes, you’re right. So what now? Should we run for it?” Zhang Qiang asked.

“Run? Please. Young Master Long spent a fortune tonight, and after a few drinks you want me to leave? What kind of joke is this?” Yang Meng replied.

Just as he finished, gunshots and screams rang out from within the smoke.

“What’s happening?” Long Xixiang’s voice quivered. She clung not only to Yang Meng’s arm, but her whole body pressed against his, making him itch all over with anticipation.

If it weren’t for censors, Yang Meng would have taken full advantage of the situation!

The shooting continued for a time before stopping, leaving only groans and screams. Soon, the smoke cleared, revealing a gruesome scene: bodies lay everywhere, all felled by gunfire, blood pooling on the floor and a metallic tang hanging in the air.

“Ah!” Long Xixiang shrieked, her face ashen. “Wha—what happened?”

Long Teng seemed to recall something. “Brother Yang, was this your doing?”

Yang Meng looked helpless. “What’s it got to do with me? Haven’t I been sitting here the whole time? Ask your sister—she was holding on to me like I owed her five million and was about to run!”

Long Teng glanced at his sister. “Even if you owed her five hundred million, she wouldn’t cling to you like that.”

Long Xixiang, suddenly realizing she’d been draped all over Yang Meng, let go as if shocked by electricity and sat upright.

Yang Meng turned to Ling Feng, giving him a thumbs-up. Ling Feng was baffled. “Meng Meng, why are you giving me a thumbs-up?”

“Damn!” Yang Meng couldn’t help but complain. “Didn’t you want to make detective? First you bust drug dealers, now you’ve helped take down an armed gang. If you don’t get promoted on the spot, there’s no justice. What are you waiting for? Call for backup already!”

Ling Feng stared at the scene, looking troubled. Qi Kun threw an arm around his neck. “Crazy man, don’t just stand there. Do as Meng Meng says! You’ve stumbled into an internal gang shootout—why are you daydreaming?”

Ling Feng looked at Yang Meng, who was calmly smoking. He was utterly confused—where had the smoke come from, and why had the gangsters turned on each other? What sort of plot twist was this?

No one understood, but everyone looked at Yang Meng a little differently—after all, he’d mentioned “cleaning up the bodies.”

And they weren’t wrong. This was indeed Yang Meng’s doing—just a simple “Soul Summoning Incantation.”

Once a person dies, the living and the dead are separated; for a ghost to kill directly is difficult. Even a vengeful spirit like Zhao Yun can only consume souls, nothing more.

But while they can’t kill directly, that doesn’t mean they’re powerless. What are ghosts best at? Influencing the soul and creating illusions—phenomena like “ghost walls” or sleep paralysis are nothing more than such tricks.

And for the thugs earlier, such tricks were more than enough. In fact, even the white smoke was an illusion. Who knows what horrors they saw in the mist that drove them to shoot each other, ending up like this.

Ling Feng had just confiscated the weapons and was about to call for backup when another group burst in—this time, familiar faces: Duan Bowen and his men.

Seeing the scene before him, Duan Bowen was shocked. “What the hell happened here? Gang war or are you shooting a movie?”

Long Teng gave Yang Meng a complicated look before saying, “Bo Wen, don’t ask. I can’t even explain. Contact my father immediately—tell him someone tried to kidnap me and Xixiang!”