"Hello boss, are you alone? Need a lady to keep you company? Rest assured, our Fu Hai beauties are famous in Tsim Sha Tsui. I guarantee you'll be satisfied." Chen Fei had just reached the entrance when a curly, blond-haired minion who looked like a waiter sidled up to him, speaking with a lewd expression.

In his opinion, anyone who came to Fu Hai alone was obviously looking for fun. What else could it be? So, he decided to be direct. If he made a good arrangement, maybe this rich, naïve Mainlander would give him a big tip. Tonight's shift wouldn't be a waste then. As for how he knew Chen Fei wasn't from Hong Kong, it was simple: his clothes and his aura. Would a local be so 'reserved' and silent? Only a complete rookie would act like that.

"I'm not here for fun. Where's Po Rong? Upstairs?" Chen Fei swept his gaze over the man and asked slowly.

"Po... Brother Ximao, someone's here to cause trouble!"

The blond minion was stunned for a moment. The name Po Rong sounded familiar, and then it hit him—it was the name of their branch leader. His expression changed instantly. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it quickly while pointing at Chen Fei with a menacing scowl. "A Mainlander just showed up at Fu Hai looking for a fight! He's got some nerve, huh?"

"What's going on? Who's causing trouble?"

The minion had barely finished speaking when seven or eight swaggering, burly men with intimidating tattoos on their arms charged out from inside the nightclub. The pockets of their clothes were bulging as they swarmed forward. One of them, wearing a leopard-print shirt, spoke savagely.

The patrons, who had been lost in their own worlds, scattered as if fleeing the plague the moment they saw this group appear. They clearly wanted no part in any trouble.

"Brother Ximao, it's this Mainlander! He's here to cause trouble. He just asked me..." the blond youth said, pointing at Chen Fei with a swagger and a blatantly arrogant expression. He then leaned in and whispered into the ear of the man in the leopard-print shirt.

"Is Brother Rong's name something a Mainlander like you can just say? You must be looking to die! Get him! I want his hands and feet. Throw him in the sea to feed the sharks tonight!" After hearing the minion's whisper, Brother Ximao's arrogant face twisted into a cold, contemptuous sneer.

Who was Po Rong? He was one of Dongxing's seven great leaders, with hundreds, even thousands, of underlings. Even he, Ximao, wasn't qualified to speak directly to him. Po Rong was the undisputed local emperor of Tsim Sha Tsui and Yau Ma Tei, a man who could cover the sky with one hand. And this Mainlander, who had appeared out of nowhere, was apparently here to challenge him. And he came alone? He had to be insane!

"Mainlander, I'll chop you to death!" At their leader's command, several of Brother Ximao's minions whipped out gleaming machetes. They viciously swung at Chen Fei's head without any mercy. An ordinary person would have been killed instantly.

"Hmph!"

Chen Fei just snorted in disdain. These were just common thugs. Even if another seven or eight Third Tier or Second Rate Experts showed up, they wouldn't stand a chance against him.

In the blink of an eye, the six or seven fierce minions who had been brandishing machetes were sent flying like toys. A few ferocious kicks and punches from Chen Fei sent them crashing into a nearby wall. The wall cracked on impact, and the sound of breaking bones mixed with agonized screams. Blood began to stain the floor red.

"You..."

Seeing his six or seven men so effortlessly defeated, Brother Ximao couldn't hide the panic on his face. He forced himself to remain calm and said coldly to Chen Fei, "Friend, you better understand who you're dealing with. We're Dongxing. Are you sure you want to take on all of Dongxing by yourse—Gah!"

Before Brother Ximao could finish, Chen Fei drove a vicious kick into his stomach. His eyes bulged as if he'd been electrocuted. He collapsed to his knees, his face a mask of pale agony, his entire body trembling from the pain as cold sweat drenched him.

"My God..." a patron gasped in shock, his face turning pale.

To dare to storm Dongxing's cash cow in Tsim Sha Tsui, and to do it alone with such terrifying strength... Seven or eight of the Tsim Sha Tsui branch's enforcers hadn't even touched him before they were left seriously injured and unconscious on the ground. And then there was Brother Ximao, a man known throughout Tsim Sha Tsui for his viciousness and cruelty, kicked to his knees like a stray dog. To put it bluntly, Chen Fei's actions were like pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth—a brazen, public slap to the face of the Dongxing branch.

"Where's Po Rong?" As everyone stood frozen in shock, Chen Fei's calm voice rang out again, making everyone's heart skip a beat. Heavens, he was really here for Po Rong! The leader of the Dongxing branches in Tsim Sha Tsui and Yau Ma Tei, one of the seven great leaders of the entire organization!

"I... you... cough, cough... Who the hell are you?" Brother Ximao's mouth was full of blood. His organs felt like they'd been ruptured by the kick, and the piercing pain made him cough up several mouthfuls of blood. He stared at Chen Fei, his expression now one of pure terror.

"Do you not understand me? Fine. If you won't talk, I'll find someone else." Chen Fei's brow furrowed, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. He walked expressionlessly over to the terrified Brother Ximao, looked down at him with cold indifference, and slowly began to raise his foot.

"Friend, don't you think you're going a bit too far?"

Just then, a large hand landed firmly on his shoulder. A formidable figure had appeared behind him out of nowhere.

"Brother Huang, save me!" The moment Brother Ximao saw the imposing figure behind Chen Fei, his eyes lit up as if he'd seen his savior, and he cried out desperately for help.

But in the next moment, Chen Fei turned his head, his gaze falling on the hand on his shoulder. A raw ferocity flashed in his eyes as he said flatly, "Take your hand off me."

The man Brother Ximao had called Brother Huang seemed taken aback for a second. The hideous, centipede-like scar on his face twitched. Then, a terrifying aura began to emanate from his body, crashing down on Chen Fei like a tidal wave. A cold chuckle followed. "Young man, has it been a long time since someone dared to speak to me with that tone? In all these years, you're the first. Truly impressive for one so young. Not bad, not bad at all."

This man was clearly not an Unranked thug like Brother Ximao. He was a powerful figure who commanded genuine awe and fear. The oppressive aura he intentionally released felt like it had been forged in a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, radiating a heart-stopping brutality and savagery.

Even Chen Fei felt a flicker of surprise.

In his eyes, this man wasn't a pure Ancient Martial Artist like himself. Instead, he was someone who had clawed his way up through countless bloody battles, surviving innumerable life-and-death trials. Through repeated transformations and the unlocking of his potential, his strength had risen to an astonishing level, at least on par with an ordinary First-Class Master. He hadn't expected to run into an enemy of this caliber in a random nightclub. Did the Hong Kong gangs truly have such deep reserves of power?

"What? Huang Junze? Isn't that Dongxing's 426, a Red Stick with Double Flowers?" A shocked murmur spread through the nearby crowd.

Nightclub patrons came from all walks of life, and there were always well-informed people among them. They had naturally guessed the identity of the imposing man who called himself Huang Junze.

Huang Junze of Dongxing, known as Axe Jun, was one of the four Red Sticks with Double Flowers serving under the top leader of Dongxing. This meant he was one of the four best fighters in the entire organization. His status was so high that even the gang's seven great leaders were only a half-step above him, a testament to his immense standing and reputation in Hong Kong.

Normally, aside from the top leader and a few retired old-timers, even an invitation from Po Rong himself—one of the seven great leaders—would be accepted or declined based entirely on Axe Jun's mood. So what was he doing here today?

"That Mainlander is in deep trouble now. Axe Jun was once said to have fought a hundred men alone. He single-handedly dismantled the Wealth Gathering Gang's stronghold in a battle that supposedly left dozens, nearly a hundred, dead. If the retired Old Dragon of Dongxing hadn't covered for him after that incident, he probably would have spent the rest of his life in prison," many onlookers whispered, looking at Chen Fei with pity.

That incident had been truly shocking. It was the battle that made Axe Jun's name. One against a hundred, he had single-handedly stormed the Wealth Gathering Gang's headquarters, wiped them out, and left behind dozens of corpses. It was a feat that seemed beyond human, and it cemented his position as one of Dongxing's four Red Sticks with Double Flowers.

Dongxing's 426, a Red Stick with Double Flowers. These men were second in power only to the seven great leaders, the four most formidable fighters in the entire organization—ruthless, merciless, and cruel. So when Huang Junze announced his name with such a cold voice, a shiver ran down everyone's spine, and they felt a chill creep up their backs.

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