Chapter 64: Killing Pigs

Zuo Zhicheng grabbed the opponent’s shovel and kicked Tuoki, who couldn’t fight back. Sharp pain came from his stomach while the wind whistled in his ears. When his body touched the ground again, he had already been kicked five meters away, groaning as he held his stomach.

His intestines were directly broken by Zuo Zhicheng’s kick.

The surrounding Western Indians still shouted and cursed as they rushed toward Zuo Zhicheng. From what they could see, the injuries to Suosi and Tuoki were just ordinary.

What made them angry was that someone dared to fight back under these circumstances. More than twenty people surrounded you; why would you resist? Did you think you could beat so many people? Why?

All the Western Indians thought this way, but it didn’t change the outcome.

“Don’t kill him! Catch him! I want to cut his tendons myself!”

As Tuoki screamed these words, holding his stomach and looking up toward Zuo Zhicheng, another companion was kicked in the knee. With a loud crack, the person screamed, fell to his knees, and held his leg.

Then another person beside him was hit on the hip by a punch that looked weak. That person also fell. Cold sweat from the intense pain covered his face, and he couldn’t stand up again.

One person kicked Zuo Zhicheng in the back, but Zuo Zhicheng turned around, grabbed his ankle, and threw him away. The person crashed into a tree with a thud and fainted.

As the Western Indians fell one by one, those still attacking might not have realized it, but Tuoki, kneeling nearby, could see the situation clearly.

The gap was too big. From start to finish, the two sides were not on the same level. Every time Zuo Zhicheng struck or kicked, one Western Indian would lose the ability to move.

No matter how the Western Indians attacked—with punches, kicks, flying kicks, or by trying to grab or push him down—it was useless. Whatever they did, Zuo Zhicheng easily dodged or didn’t even bother to move. Whether they hit or pushed him, he stood like a mountain, unmoved.

From Tuoki’s perspective, it looked like a group of five- or six-year-old children attacking an adult. The adult casually punched and kicked, making the children cry for their parents.

But the problem was, Tuoki clearly knew his companions were not five- or six-year-old children. Although they hadn’t made a big name in Xinlu Port, he believed each of his brothers was brave and skilled.

Like the strongest one, Suosi, who was now holding his nose and crying.

And Jita, who was said to have killed someone and escaped from Ice City, was now sitting on the ground, looking at his right foot bent at a hundred eighty degrees, screaming in pain.

And Mingdun, who had trained at Chaoyang Martial Hall, was foaming at the mouth and lying unconscious on the ground.

“How… is this possible?” The shock in his heart even made Tuoki temporarily forget the pain in his stomach. He looked at the one-sided scene and felt it was incredibly absurd.

The normal process should have been the other person being scared, kneeling and begging for mercy, but still getting beaten and crippled or even killed by them. Why did it turn out like this?

‘If this man is so strong, why did he run away last time?’ Tuoki couldn’t find an answer. He could only watch this ridiculous scene. More than twenty companions, who were confident and ready to torture the other, were now howling and falling to the ground under Zuo Zhicheng’s casual attacks, like swatting flies.

But because none of the Western Indians except Suosi were bleeding, and they all had injuries like broken bones or dislocations that made them unable to move, they still dared to charge forward one after another.

Even so, when only five or six of them were left, they realized something was wrong.

They looked at each other, then at their companions lying on the ground, groaning. No one dared to rush at Zuo Zhicheng anymore.

Enduring the pain, Tuoki shouted, “Friend! We didn’t recognize how strong you are. You’ve beaten us and taught us a lesson. We admit we were wrong. Let’s call it even, okay?”

Zuo Zhicheng didn’t answer him but showed his attitude through action. He stepped forward and rushed at the remaining few. From the beginning, he never intended to let them live. The reason he didn’t cut throats or stab hearts at first was to trick them, so they wouldn’t run away separately. It also avoided making a bloody mess that would be troublesome to clean up.

A punch hit one person’s head, and the dizziness from the concussion made him fall.

A loud kick made another person’s neck twist strangely to the back. He staggered back three steps and fell to the ground.

The last three roared as they charged. Zuo Zhicheng sneered. At this point, he wasn’t afraid of anyone running away. He grabbed one person’s face with both hands, twisted hard, and the person’s neck was forced to turn a hundred eighty degrees before collapsing weakly.

The second person was frightened and tried to back away, but Zuo Zhicheng caught up and punched him in the throat, suffocating him.

The last person turned to run but was punched in the temple by Zuo Zhicheng and fell down immediately.

After killing the three cleanly, he walked toward Suosi. He turned Suosi, who was still holding his nose and crying in pain, toward himself. Zuo Zhicheng clenched his fist like a small hammer and struck Suosi’s chest.

The huge force went through the body and pierced the heart, stopping its beat.

It was a technique similar to the Death Fist in ninjutsu, directly taking the person’s life. He used this method because using a knife would cause too much bleeding, making it hard to handle the scene.

“What are you doing? You killed them?” Tuoki’s body trembled. Looking at Zuo Zhicheng’s cold face, his eyes were full of regret. “Are you crazy? If you kill them, the Hundred Families Association won’t let you go!”

“My time is limited. You can hurry and leave your last words. After all…” Zuo Zhicheng smiled. In the eyes of everyone present, it was like the smile of death, bringing only cruelty, coldness, and chill. “There are twenty-six in total. Even killing pigs takes time.”

“Don’t come closer! There are so many witnesses. Do you think you can escape?”

“Don’t come closer! Please, don’t come closer! Don’t kill me!”

“They told me to come! I tried to stop them! I didn’t want to come!” A man with a shattered knee cried and crawled toward the woods as if Zuo Zhicheng behind him was some kind of monster.

But his actions were meaningless. When he was halfway, Zuo Zhicheng grabbed his ankle and dragged him back.

“Help! Help!” He opened his mouth and yelled, but in this place they had specially chosen, no one could hear the cries for help.

Crying, begging, or cursing—no matter how the people on the ground reacted, Zuo Zhicheng was like a ten-thousand-year ice block. He just found each person, punched to stop their heart, and like a robot, killed one target after another in silence.