Amidst the storm of bewildered and conflicted gazes, Wu Yang—mastermind of this astonishing display—grinned widely, his face the very picture of innocence.

"Cough cough... Uncles, aunties, didn’t I say it? Martial arts are dangerous—strikes can injure. Look at this big brother here—he wouldn’t listen to me, and now he’s hurt again, isn’t he?"

The crowd froze, staring at him as if he’d just grown a second head.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Can’t you go five minutes without showing off?

Wu Yang tugged at his earlobe, feigning confusion as he grinned at the thugs. "What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you disagree with me?"

"Well..."

"Damn it!! Stop standing there like idiots—charge him!!"

Before the thugs could respond, Hao San staggered to his feet, spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm onto the floor, and with a vicious glare, swung his weapon at Wu Yang once more.

Emboldened by their leader’s charge, the other thugs rallied, brandishing their makeshift weapons in a frenzy of violence.

"Why must you insist on this?" Wu Yang sighed, shaking his head as if deeply disappointed. "Even if you don’t agree with me, we could’ve talked it out. Why resort to knives and clubs?"

Yet even as he spoke, his body moved—fluidly, effortlessly—slipping into the fray.

As the leader of the Shadow Dragons, the most feared mercenary group in the underworld, Wu Yang had spent five years in the blood-soaked trenches of combat. The number of powerful enemies he’d slain was too great to remember. His codename, "Blade of the Hidden Dragon," was etched into the watchlists of over ninety criminal organizations worldwide, including all five permanent members of the UN Security Council. The bounty on his head? Over a billion dollars.

That was why, on this return to China, he’d vowed to keep a low profile. He feared no bounty hunter or criminal syndicate—but the events in the Amazon jungle had forced him to conceal his identity at all costs.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!!! chaotic storm of impacts followed. Within moments, every thug—tumor-head included—lay sprawled on the ground. To the untrained eye, they merely looked bruised and battered, suffering minor injuries.

But Wu Yang knew better. His strikes had been laced with "internal force." They wouldn’t die—not yet. But any attempt to bully others, to commit senseless violence again, would be impossible. A single wrong movement would dislocate their joints, crippling them for life.

"Heh heh, big brothers... Now do you believe me? Blades are blind, fists are brutal. If you’d listened earlier, you wouldn’t be lying here now, would you?" Wu Yang clapped his hands clean, grinning as he addressed the crowd.

"We believe you, we believe you!" Hao San wailed, tears welling in his eyes. The other thugs were ready to bash their own heads in. They’d never met anyone who could mock them this thoroughly while beating them senseless.

They’d seen braggarts before—but this? This was a whole new level of psychological warfare.

"No way!! We can’t let this slide!"

"Call the police!! Dial 110!! We can’t let them escape!"

"Young man, we owe you our lives. We were blind before, mistaking a fake for the real deal. You’re the true master here!"

The other passengers finally snapped out of their daze, swarming Wu Yang with gratitude and flattery. Some men even rushed to tie up the thugs with their belts, waiting patiently for the authorities.

Amid the chaos, the young woman beside Wu Yang’s seat watched, her expression shifting rapidly. She shot one last venomous glare at the "master," who was still curled up in the back like a frightened turtle, before gritting her teeth and grabbing the ice-cold cola he’d refused earlier.

But as she pushed through the crowd, ready to thank Wu Yang in person, she suddenly realized—

The hero who’d been basking in everyone’s praise just moments ago was nowhere to be seen.

...

"So this is Guangcheng?"

After slipping away from the bus, Wu Yang crossed the city’s toll gate in under ten minutes, standing now at the bustling intersection of this coastal metropolis.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and stood amidst the crowd, gazing at the towering skyscrapers. His eyes narrowed slightly as an unfamiliar sensation washed over him—a sense of displacement, as if he’d stepped through time. flood of memories, long buried, surged to the surface. Memories that even this stone-cold killer, this veteran of countless bloody battles, still struggled with.

Six months ago, deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest—

"Huolei, you idiot... You shouldn’t have taken that bullet for me..."

"Heh, brothers share this life, not the next. Boss, I’m dying—can’t you say something comforting?"

"Stop talking nonsense. You’re my best brother, Wu Yang. Without my say-so, you’re not dying on me!"

"Heh... Boss, I like you like this—angry, crying. This is what a real man should be. Promise me, after I’m gone... don’t shut yourself away anymore..."

"Shut up!! Are you deaf?! I said you’re not dying!"

"Okay... cough... fine, I won’t die... Boss, could you do me a favor? Back in Guangcheng, there’s someone I grew up with... If there’s one person I can’t let go of, it’s her. I want you to..."

"Wait, weren’t you an orphan?"

"Cough... Boss, orphans aren’t born from rocks. Xiaoling and I—we were both abandoned as kids, raised in the same orphanage. We were happy back then, and we made a promise: no matter who adopted us, fifteen years later, we’d..."

"Get to the point!"

"Boss... For old times’ sake, I need you to go to Guangcheng, to keep that promise with Xiaoling. Not—not like that. I’m not asking you to marry her. Fifteen years is a long time—maybe she’s changed, maybe I have. I just want you, in my name, to let her go. And if... if you can, watch over her for three years, until she finds someone new..."

...