Chapter 332

Xie Wendong surely had his reasons for feeling at ease. He came this time to bring the hidden Soul Group into the open. Behind him, dozens of fully armed Blood Kill members were on their way, along with over a hundred disciples of the North Hongmen, ready to act. It was almost time for them to move. Although the Soul Group surrounded him now, in reality, it was they who were trapped in his net. Yet, despite all his calculations, Xie Wendong had underestimated the strength and determination of the Soul Group this time. The moment he entered the abandoned villa, the Soul Group had no intention of letting him leave alive. The orders came straight from their headquarters in Tokyo, Japan—no cost, no consequences, with Xie Wendong’s life as the target. So this time, the Soul Group deployed every available person and weapon they had. It was estimated that there were well over a hundred members of the Soul Group in the woods, all elites equipped with highly advanced weapons—things Xie Wendong couldn’t have anticipated or discovered.

The firefight continued, or rather, it was a one-sided attack. Under the intense firepower of the Soul Group, Xie Wendong and his men didn’t even have a chance to lift their heads and return fire. The walls of the villa were already riddled with bullet holes, yet the sound emitted was pitifully faint—rifle silencers ensured the gunshots were muffled to the lowest level. Still, the Soul Group was cautious. After all, they were in China, in Shanghai, and they had to consider the police factor. “Bang!” As the light fixture on the ceiling shattered, the villa was plunged into darkness.

Jiang Sen lowered his head, brushed away the mud from his hair, and said, “Brother Dong, this isn’t working. I’m afraid before our brothers arrive, we’ll already be wiped out.”

Xie Wendong was also deeply shaken, secretly amazed by the Soul Group’s formidable firepower. They had been shooting nonstop for eight minutes since the first shot, as if they had endless ammunition. He nodded gravely and said, “Yeah, call our brothers and tell them to speed up.” “Okay!” Jiang Sen, waiting for this command, quickly took out his phone and dialed Blood Kill. But after dialing the number, all he heard was a series of beeps. Confused, he asked, “Why is there no signal?”

Wei Ming lay on the ground, smiled bitterly, and shook his head. “It’s no use. The Soul Group has already set up jamming devices nearby. There won’t be any signal within several miles.”

“Huh?” Xie Wendong and the others were shocked upon hearing this. Jiang Sen grabbed him by the collar, pulled him close, and shouted angrily face to face, “What did you just say?”
Wei Ming knew he was in grave danger today and had given up hope. His spirit was broken, his body limp, as he said weakly, “None of us will be able to get out alive today. We’re done.” “Damn you!” Jiang Sen, furious, swatted him far away and said, “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Wei Ming wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and laughed maniacally, his gaze vacant. “I thought I could slip away before the Soul Group attacked.” “Hmph! Hmph-hmph,” Jiang Sen sneered, “If I’m going to die, I’ll drag you down with me.”
“What’s the big deal about dying or not?” Ren Changfeng sat in the corner, calm, slowly wiping his sword while saying proudly, “The Soul Group isn’t that great. We’ve fought them before; it’s nothing special. Let them come—my sword hasn’t had blood to drink in ages.” That was Ren Changfeng’s strength: no matter when or against how formidable an opponent, his arrogance remained unchanged. Sometimes even Xie Wendong wondered where that confidence came from, like now.
“Do you have any good plans?” Jiang Sen asked skeptically. Ren Changfeng shrugged, straightened his back, and sneered, “The Soul Group only knows how to shoot from afar. They’re not a threat to us. If they dare to charge in, heh, I’ll kill one for every one who comes.”
“Tch!” Jiang Sen was almost amused. “Kill one for every one? Why?” Ren Changfeng moved his wrist slightly, and his Tang sword, like an iron ruler, spun nimbly twice in his hand before he thrust it into the wall beside him, saying proudly, “Because of this.” Jiang Sen stared at him for a while without saying anything. Talking to someone as arrogant and conceited as him was like talking to an ox—useless. But after Ren Changfeng’s outburst, everyone’s mood relaxed a bit. Hidden under the windowsill, Xie Wendong was in darkness, his face indistinct, but his narrow eyes shone brightly like stars in the night sky, making it impossible to ignore his presence. He smiled slightly and said, “Changfeng is right. We don’t need to worry. Though we’re trapped now, if the Soul Group really tries to attack, with our strength, they’ll have a hard time taking us down quickly. And don’t forget, we still have reinforcements coming, while the Soul Group is isolated.”

Others’ words might not be believed, but when Xie Wendong spoke, everyone felt reassured. His words, within the Beihongmen, especially in the Wendong Club, were almost regarded as truth. Li Shuang grinned widely and laughed heartily, “Since Brother Dong says so, there really is no need to worry.” He glanced at the shattered wine bottle on the table and said with regret, “If only we had a drink right now; it would be wonderful.” Gao Qiang smirked and stepped forward, saying, “It would feel like flying in the air.” “Right, exactly!” Li Shuang, as if he had finally found a kindred spirit, patted Gao Qiang’s shoulder and exclaimed, “He who understands my heart is Gao…” Gao Qiang shook his shoulder, swatting his huge hand aside, and said coldly, “It could send you straight to heaven.” With that, he stepped aside. “Damn jinx!” After firing continuously for another five minutes, the intense barrage finally subsided, and the gunshots grew slower, intermittent, rising and falling. It seemed they were running low on ammunition. Yet Xie Wendong and the others, with their rich combat experience, knew the real attack from the Soul Group was about to begin. Sure enough, after a while, low “shushing” footsteps were heard on the road outside the villa. Xie Wendong pointed outside and drew his sidearm, signaling everyone to prepare for battle. With a loud crash, the wooden door of the villa was kicked to pieces from the outside. In the darkness, several faint red beams of light flickered up and down, making people feel uneasy. Xie Wendong and the others were in the hall, separated from the entrance by a three-meter-thick wall. Ren Changfeng was extremely fast; he dashed to the wall in one leap and crouched down, gripping his sword. Without a sound, a dark tube emerged from the entrance under the weak moonlight. Before the gunman could show himself, Ren Changfeng swung his arm sharply from bottom to top, slashing with his sword. With a “crack,” the blade struck the tip of the gun with great force. The gunman screamed as the submachine gun flew from his hand. Ren Changfeng moved in a continuous stream, not pausing for a moment. Before the man could close his mouth, he swung his sword back instinctively—his two-finger-width blade penetrated more than half of the man’s throat.

From start to finish, that member of the Soul Team didn’t even see the other person’s shadow. As soon as he entered the foyer, a flash of blade light appeared, followed by an arm sweeping through the air. Then, his neck felt cold, and he lost consciousness. His companion fell to the ground, and the others in the Soul Team immediately realized something was wrong. Without hesitation, they all pulled the triggers and fired wildly. Unfortunately, bullets don’t turn on their own, so their fire posed no threat to Xie Wendong and the others in the hall. At that moment, Jiang Sen couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head in disapproval—the members of the Soul Team still hadn’t improved at all, just as bad as before. Just as he wanted to give Xie Wendong a casual gesture, the gunshots suddenly stopped. With a “thud,” a grenade-sized object, about the size of two fists, smacked into the wall and bounced back into the hall. Jiang Sen glanced carefully at it under the moonlight and was shocked, breaking into a cold sweat as he shouted, “Flashbang!”

Indeed, it was a flashbang. In the pitch-black hall, the power of a flashbang was ten times greater than that of a grenade, and it didn’t produce a loud explosion that would attract attention. As soon as Jiang Sen finished speaking, the flashbang exploded. In an instant, it seemed as though ten blazing suns had risen at once in the hall. The intense light illuminated the outside of the hall as well, making the situation inside unimaginable. Cries of pain filled the air. Wei Ming’s surviving men, though quicker to react and covering their eyes with their arms, were still blinded by the intense light. They covered their eyes with their hands, rolling around on the ground, tears and snot streaming down their faces. Xie Wendong and the others reacted faster, covering their eyes in advance, but they still suffered temporary blindness. Lying on the ground with their eyes tightly closed, they hoped to recover quickly. Being unable to see with such a fierce enemy so close was practically the same as death.

Only two people remained standing in the hall: Ren Changfeng and Jiang Sen. The former was blind, but his strong pride kept him going as he clutched a knife and crouched on the ground. The latter was the best-prepared among them, so he could still vaguely make out things. Holding a gun in each hand, he stared unblinkingly at the entrance between the foyer and the hall, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest movement. Once the intense light faded, the Soul Team charged in, seemingly unafraid, as if they had anticipated what would happen after the flashbang exploded. When the first one rushed into the hall, Jiang Sen didn’t shoot, thinking someone else was faster than him—Ren Changfeng.

Ren Changfeng’s vision was blurred, but his extraordinary senses came into play. The moment the man from the Soul Group stepped into the hall, his sword followed closely behind. Unprepared for such resistance, the man was shocked and reacted quickly. Realizing it was too late to shoot, he tried to retreat, but those behind him, unaware of his situation, kept charging forward. He stepped back abruptly, only for his companions behind to collide with him and push him back again. Frustrated, especially when Ren Changfeng’s sword pierced his chest, his eyes widened in anger and helplessness. “Yah!” Ren Changfeng shouted, gripping the hilt tightly and using all his strength to push forward. The blade of his Tang sword sank completely into the man’s chest, with the tip emerging from the back, precisely targeting the man’s chest. With one strike, two lives were taken. Ren Changfeng tried to pull out his sword, but the members of the Soul Group gave him no chance. Low gunshots rang out as bullets passed through the bodies of their fallen comrades and flew toward him. With no other choice, Ren Changfeng abandoned his sword and rolled to hide behind the wall. The members of the Soul Group were highly skilled, giving him no chance to breathe. Four or five of them rushed into the hall. It was dark at the entrance, making it hard to see clearly. Only after they entered the hall and the moonlight shone through the windows could Ren Changfeng see them clearly. All of them wore black vests and long pants, black leather boots, and night vision goggles emitting green light. Their exposed skin was covered in black-green paint, making them look like hungry ghosts emerging from hell. Five men, five guns, all aimed at Ren Changfeng. One of them, seemingly the leader, knew some Chinese. He scanned the hall and saw many people still rolling around, blindfolded. He smiled triumphantly before fixing his gaze on Ren Changfeng. His green-lit night vision goggles looked eerie. He drew his pistol and stepped closer to Ren Changfeng, saying with a smirk, “Not bad. You’re quite skilled. Tell me who Xie Wendong is, and I won’t kill you.” In the hall were over a dozen men led by Xie Wendong, plus Wei Ming’s dozens of subordinates, crowding together. It would be difficult to identify Xie Wendong among them, let alone for the members of the Soul Group who only had his photo. Under the threat of the five guns, Ren Changfeng didn’t dare act rashly. He simply smiled coldly and said, “When you get to the underworld, you can ask the King of Hell.”

The leader of the Soul Group was momentarily stunned upon hearing this. It took him a while to understand what the other person meant. With ahehe laugh, he stepped up to Ren Changfeng, pressed the pistol against his temple, and said in a deep voice, “Now, you can smile.” Then he pulled the trigger. With a “bang!” Ren Changfeng felt heat on his face as it turned red with blood. It was the other man’s blood. Just as the leader was about to pull the trigger, someone suddenly stood up from the corner, fired a shot at his wrist, and blood splattered all over Ren Changfeng’s face. The leader cried out in pain, dropped his pistol, and staggered back several steps before regaining his balance. He turned around in panic and saw another person in the corner—not very tall, but with sharp eyes, holding a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. It was Jiang Sen, who had been prepared all along. The other four members of the Soul Group aimed their guns at him, but their shooting skills were still slower compared to his. After a series of gunshots—“bang bang…”“puff puff…”—the exchange suddenly stopped. All four members of the Soul Group collapsed to the ground with bullet wounds between their brows, dying without closure. Throughout it all, Jiang Sen didn’t move a muscle, calmly firing four shots in a row. His own face was also split open by a deep wound, with flesh torn back and blood streaming out—a horrifying sight, caused by bullets fired by the Soul Group members during their counterattack. Although the leader’s pistol was dropped, he still had a submachine gun on his back. Grasping the gun’s stock with one hand, he shouted at Jiang Sen, “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”