Chapter 124: A Ruthless Strike

Even for a man with formidable martial arts skills, it is often said that two fists are no match for four hands. This is not necessarily true for Lin Yang, a practitioner of the "Thirteen Blades of Heavenly Spirit" who has already mastered the fifth blade and is on the verge of breaking through to the sixth. However, facing eight professional killers equipped with firearms, even the hardest fists would find themselves in an impossible situation.

Advance? Or retreat?

To say that Lin Yang felt no hesitation would be a lie. After all, nobody wants to gamble with their own life. It was not that the eight heavily armed men terrified him, but rather the unknown that lay within was what truly chilled him. The eight guards at the entrance alone were already a handful; the number of adversaries lurking inside was likely even greater.

Yet, those with daring hearts often make reckless decisions, and Lin Yang was certainly of the daring sort—the "audacious to the point of insanity" kind.

The most cunning fox is the one who acts as the hunter. Lin Yang was playing that very role now. Crouched behind a wall in the adjacent workshop, his eyes were locked onto every movement of the eight men, fearing that he might miss a single opportunity to slip through. He did not forget to survey the surroundings, hoping to find a way to bypass the guards and sneak in from the flank.

Compared to the other workshops, the security system protecting this one was far more rigorous. Omnidirectional surveillance cameras covered every blind spot, rotating at irregular intervals to ensure no potential intruder could escape detection.

With armed executioners at the gate and high-tech surveillance scouring every inch of the perimeter, Lin Yang’s hope of slipping in unnoticed seemed like a pipe dream.

He glanced down at the watch on his left wrist. Fifteen minutes had passed since he scaled the wall into the scrap yard and located this building—the most likely hideout. While not a long time, it was more than enough for the Fang family to employ their illegal means to extract what they wanted.

Time waits for no one. Lin Yang could not afford to waste any more of it; sometimes, taking a gamble is an unavoidable choice.

To lure the enemy away and slip in, Lin Yang finally set his sights on the exhaust vent, which looked disgustingly filthy. It was the best way to bypass the tight surveillance without alerting the enemy, provided he could reach it.

He picked up a small piece of scrap metal from nearby and tossed it with precision. His target was not the eight men at the door, but the surveillance camera atop the vent, which was shielded by a makeshift canopy of welded sheet metal. He intended to create an accident, making the enemy believe the metal canopy had simply succumbed to rust and fallen off.

*Clang.* The crisp sound of metal striking metal immediately drew the attention of the eight guards.

As expected, four of them reacted with vigilance, raising their AK-47s and rushing toward the source of the noise. The moment the metal hit the camera and caused it to malfunction, Lin Yang sprinted like lightning beneath the vent. Before the four guards reached the site, he slipped inside the exhaust duct, which was still billowing with pungent, greasy fumes.

His timing was calculated with surgical precision. Only this allowed him to infiltrate successfully without being discovered. However, the moment he crawled into the duct, the suffocating smell of oil and an unknown, sickening stench rushed into his nostrils, assaulting his sensory nerves. His stomach churned violently, and the contents of his gut threatened to surge up his throat.

*Puke.* Before he could swallow the bile back down, another wave of nauseating stench hit him. This time, he couldn't suppress the urge, and he vomited uncontrollably. His face turned deathly pale in an instant.

Having learned his lesson, Lin Yang didn't dare hesitate. He pulled out some toilet paper from his pocket, rolled it into two plugs, and stuffed them into his nostrils to avoid further suffering. Once "armed," he began to study the structure of the exhaust pipe.

After a bumpy journey through multiple obstacles, he finally reached the end. The opening was quite large—wide enough for three men of his build to crawl through side-by-side.

Lin Yang was lucky; at the moment he poked his head out, the area was clear. With a agile leap, he landed firmly on the ground and hid behind a door just as a cacophony of noise erupted from the distance.

It was the sound of a whip cracking, followed by shrill, agonizing screams. Listening closely, Lin Yang confirmed his suspicion: the screams belonged to one of the five experts.

Following the sound, Lin Yang crept forward. Perhaps they were too confident in the external surveillance; the security inside the workshop was much laxer, with only a few scattered cameras. As long as he was cautious and avoided their fields of view, it was easy to bypass them.

Within three minutes, Lin Yang reached the source of the noise. It was a small room with an open door, which allowed the sounds to carry. Since the entire workshop was enclosed, the echoes made the screams clearly audible everywhere.

Hiding behind an iron pillar, Lin Yang peeked out. Inside the small workshop, a middle-aged man in a white lab coat was suffering inhumane torture. The whip had shredded his coat, and streaks of fresh, shocking blood stained his clothes.

"Are you going to talk or not?" The man wielding the whip was the very same Director Fang who had taken the five experts. His face was twisted into a hideous mask of rage as he glared at the broken man before him, barking threats viciously.

Watching this, Lin Yang clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Animals," he cursed under his breath. Even "animals" was too kind; they were worse than beasts.

Though he had suspected the Fang family had ulterior motives, seeing their lawlessness firsthand still shocked him. Yet, he could not rush in blindly to save them. The four guards at the door were no joke—three assault rifles and a rocket launcher carried by a large man. Lin Yang even wondered if the Fang family was secretly dealing in arms; such sophisticated weaponry was beyond his comprehension.

While his mind raced, Lin Yang didn't forget his true purpose. Now was not the time to alert the enemy. Secretary Zhu was already on his way, and the only thing he could do to save the five was to capture sufficient evidence.

Fortunately, the lighting in the workshop was decent; otherwise, the photos might be blurry, and the Fang family could easily deny everything.

To ensure there were no slip-ups, after taking four or five photos, Lin Yang switched his camera to video mode, recording the entire scene of violence without reservation.

"Talk or not?" After another round of brutal torture, Fang Ming gritted his teeth, his voice cold. His distorted face showed that his anger had reached its peak.

The poor expert he was tormenting was already at death's door, his body soaked in blood.

He couldn't wait any longer. If he did, the man would be whipped to death. Watching from the corner, Lin Yang could no longer contain himself. Even if it meant exposing his position, he would not hide any longer.

At the very least, he could stall them. If nothing else, his sudden appearance would disrupt the Fang family's plans and apply pressure. If the sudden arrival of an outsider wasn't enough to rattle them, then nothing would.

***

Lin Yang tucked away the evidence he had recorded. He didn't want the fruits of his arduous crawl through the exhaust pipes to disappear. If that happened, it would have all been for nothing.

As his eyes swept the area, they settled on a piece of scrap metal the size of his palm. Throwing blades had always been his specialty; he could certainly put such a piece of metal to good use.

*Whoosh.* With a fierce flick of his wrist, Lin Yang sent the metal shard flying toward one of the bodyguards at the workshop door. The speed was breathtaking.

Without even a muffled grunt, the bodyguard who was struck in the throat reflexively clutched his neck. After a few violent shudders, his body went limp. A large pool of blood seeped out, and he collapsed into the crimson puddle, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to oneself. Lin Yang was not foolish enough to show mercy to such beasts. He didn't strike often, but when he did, it was always a lethal blow.

The sudden collapse of their comrade naturally alerted the others. Looking down at the dead man, a well-trained, sharp cry rang out.

"Intruder!"

Two simple words caused the atmosphere in the workshop to freeze. To be able to sneak in undetected despite such tight security meant the intruder was no amateur.

The guards at the door quickly moved into a semi-circle, their backs to the entrance, assault rifles pointed outward. They were ready to open fire the moment they spotted anything suspicious.

"What's going on?" Fang Ming, inside the workshop, heard the shout and frowned, roaring in frustration.

Fang Ming was no fool. He knew they were breaking the law, but for the future of the Fang family, he was willing to take the risk. What did it matter if he broke the law, as long as he got what he wanted? But the middle-aged expert was stubborn; no matter how hard he whipped him, the man refused to say a word, which made him increasingly anxious.

The word "intruder" struck his mind like a thunderclap, making him realize the gravity of the situation.

"Catch him! You must catch that bastard!" Fang Ming threw down his whip and strode toward the entrance of the workshop.