Chapter Four: No Escape from Death! Please vote and add to your favorites.

Shhh...

Upon hearing Liang Jing’s words, the expressions of the mother and son nearby changed instantly. They were already at the end of their rope, with no choice but to beg for help from whoever they saw—classic desperation, grasping at any possible lifeline, with no ulterior motives at all. Just as they began to nurture a sliver of hope that this stranger truly had the power to save them, his words snuffed it out mercilessly.

"You! Put down the knife and don’t do anything rash. We can talk this out," the buzz-cut middle-aged man said, signaling with his eyes to the others to prepare for a fight. His face was grave; from the way the canvas duffel had dropped earlier, he already knew Liang Jing was no ordinary person. After all, in this new world, some people were no longer afraid of firearms—he had witnessed that with his own eyes in recent days, and it had been terrifying.

“Damn it, do you really take me for an idiot? I haven’t even picked up my knife, and you want me to toss it away? If you want to talk, why don’t you throw away your guns first? How is that fair?” Liang Jing had no intention of listening to them. It was like someone holding a hostage demanding you drop your weapon—a death wish. Even without a knife, Liang Jing was formidable, but he would never do such a foolish thing—he’d never known how to compromise, and after the world changed, even less so.

But this didn’t alter Liang Jing’s resolve—not to help the high-class mother and son. He felt no sympathy for them or for their status—his was a classic resentment of the wealthy.

“Brother, don’t be nervous; you don’t have to put down the knife. Let’s talk. Actually, there’s nothing wrong with us asking you to stop. We can give you money, guns, ammo, even women—don’t rush. As long as you…” The buzz-cut man seemed to realize his tone was off and quickly tried to explain, attempting to defuse the situation, afraid Liang Jing would lash out. He had seen the heavy duffel earlier; Liang Jing had carried it easily, face unflushed and breathing steady—he was even more formidable than Dai Wu. Nervous, the man’s words tumbled out awkwardly and incoherently.

By this time, Liang Jing had already set down his backpack and tossed his short knife aside, seemingly with no intention to fight. What no one knew was that he was as tense and ready as a panther about to pounce.

“Big brother, save us! We can reward you even more handsomely than them—just kill them and get us out of here!” The youth, seeing the buzz-cut man’s wariness toward Liang Jing, shouted louder. But he was quickly silenced by two burly men in tight black t-shirts.

“Hm!?” Liang Jing wondered if they had realized his strength and lack of fear toward their guns—did they know he was an awakened one, and were simply trying to stall, waiting for reinforcements?

As for actually buying him off—Liang Jing didn’t believe that for a second, nor did he need anything they could offer. The more he listened, the more it seemed like a stalling tactic. Since it was to his disadvantage, he would strike first. Time was of the essence. Judging by their behavior, even if he killed them, he would feel no guilt.

Liang Jing had no intention of saving the elegant mother and son, but he wouldn’t leave dangerous people alive…

“Kill!”

With explosive force, both feet launched him forward—his toes and heels driving his powerful legs, the soles scraping the ground with a heavy sound. His entire body surged forward like a beast unleashed, slicing through the air with a rush.

Yes, Liang Jing was unarmed, not using his [Violent Throw] skill, because that would be too much of a bully and rather dull. More importantly, he relished close combat; [Violent Throw] was only for support—he didn’t want to become overly reliant on it.

Ah...

His opponents hadn’t expected Liang Jing to attack so decisively, especially considering there were six of them, all armed. Wasn’t he courting death by charging straight in? The buzz-cut man, momentarily stunned, recovered quickly. As Liang Jing charged, he didn’t even lift his arm—just angled his wrist to point the gun at Liang Jing, preparing to shoot.

Liang Jing had already identified him as the leader—taking him out first would break their morale and will.

He hadn’t expected the man’s reaction time to be so fast; with practiced efficiency, the gun was already angled up. Usually people would aim parallel to the ground for better accuracy, but there was no time to dwell on that. Liang Jing had already factored in the risk—he leapt, soaring more than a meter into the air, and kicked out at the buzz-cut man.

“Boom!”

“Bang!”

A sharp crack of bones echoed as Liang Jing’s foot connected. The buzz-cut man was hurled backward, smashing into two burly men behind him and bowling them over before rolling aside. After he landed, he only managed to twitch once before going still, terror and disbelief still etched on his face.

Yes, disbelief! He’d never imagined someone would charge a drawn gun without even dodging. In his mind, humans were still made of flesh and blood, and guns were deadly—even those with powers would at least try to evade. But Liang Jing hadn’t cared at all, so long as the bullet didn’t hit an unprotected vital spot like the eyes or mouth. By the time the gun fired, Liang Jing’s kick had already struck, sending the bullet harmlessly off target; and he’d been so fast that, despite being a top trainee himself, the buzz-cut man couldn’t react in time—he barely shifted his weight before the fatal blow landed.

“Bang!” “Bang!” “Bang!”...

“Big brother!”

“Bastard! Damn you!”

“…”

After Liang Jing sent the leader flying, he angled his body at a forty-five degree tilt to the ground, about to launch himself at one of the other burly men. At that moment, gunfire erupted; he instinctively jerked his head aside as bullets struck him twice, with one grazing his ear—but none of it slowed his pounce.

Liang Jing hadn’t expected that killing the leader wouldn’t shatter their nerve; instead, after a brief pause, the others attacked even more frantically. It was the opposite of what he’d wanted—he felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Boom!”

With a muffled squelch, like a ripe watermelon bursting open, Liang Jing’s right hand arced through the air and crashed into his opponent’s cheek. Blood spurted from the man’s ears, nose, and mouth; his eyes bulged as if about to burst, his face shattered, his skull crushed and neck torn halfway.

“Bang!” “Bang!” “…”

Ignoring the stunned mother and son, Liang Jing tucked and rolled, using the momentum to run in a quick arc. Even these specially-trained brutes struggled to hit him as he sprinted. He launched himself at the two burly men he’d toppled earlier, paying no attention to the bullets that struck his body.

“Boom!”

“Crack!”

He punched the man on the left in the head, then swung his elbow in a powerful blow to the right one's chest. Seizing the crushed man's belt, he hurled him at another gunman, then dashed toward the only man still in camouflage—who hadn’t stripped down earlier, unlike the rest.

The man in camouflage, hurriedly fumbling with his gun and ammo, was petrified as Liang Jing barreled toward him. In a panic, he flung both gun and bullets aside.

“Don’t shoot! I surrender! I surrender! Please don’t hurt me…” he shouted, hands up in the air.

With a rip, Liang Jing grabbed him by the front of his shirt, swinging him into the line of fire to shield himself from the last gunman in black. The more precautions, the safer, Liang Jing reasoned, using the camouflage man as a human shield.

“Don’t kill me! Please! I’ll do anything—really, I can tell you everything I know, just don’t kill me…” The man in camouflage, his neck gripped from behind by Liang Jing, shot desperate looks at the last surviving gunman, knowing that if four men together couldn’t stop this monster, he had even less chance now.