After finally taking down Big Head Brother and his gang of thugs, Fang Haoran and the others stood there panting heavily. As the adrenaline from the intense fight gradually faded, they began to regain their senses. Staring at the groaning thugs sprawled across the ground, many of the male students couldn’t help but shiver.
Was this… really their doing?
They had actually beaten up a group of street toughs.
Holy crap!
Honestly, in all the years at Finance University, no student had ever done something so bold.
The students at Finance University, much like those at the neighboring Medical University, had always been seen as obedient "good kids" in the eyes of local troublemakers—easy targets who wouldn’t fight back.
Whether it was the student delinquents from the three major colleges or the street thugs outside campus, none of them dared to provoke these guys.
But today, they had shattered that stereotype, engaging in their first real brawl with off-campus hoodlums.
So, after the fight, many of the guys—and even Lin Lele and the other girls—felt a mix of fear and disbelief, struggling to accept that they had actually pulled this off.
Fang Haoran, who had been simmering with anger, finally felt a sense of relief seeing the thugs’ miserable state. He then gave a thumbs-up to the bespectacled guy in their class.
Even though they had numbers on their side, fighting these street thugs had still been tough. But Lin Tao had taken an unexpected approach, launching a sneak attack that took out four guys in one go, easing the pressure on everyone.
What a legend—though a bit underhanded.
After this experience, Fang Haoran finally understood why so many students from the three major colleges were drawn to street life.
If you didn’t want to be bullied, you had to be even tougher than the bullies.
Of course, he knew this kind of thing was a one-time deal. There wouldn’t be a second round—students like them weren’t cut out for the streets. They were all top-tier university students with bright futures ahead. Getting involved with gangs was the worst possible move, utterly foolish.
And right after the fight, some were already worrying about retaliation. What if they ran into these thugs again off-campus?
But before they could dwell on it too much, someone suddenly shouted, "Oh no, they’re calling backup!"
The Finance University students’ hearts sank, tension spiking instantly.
Then, another voice yelled, "Run! Get back to campus! Once we’re there, they won’t dare touch us!"
The moment the words were out, Fang Haoran and the others immediately rallied their friends and bolted. Those who lagged behind got a helping hand, especially Lin Lele and the other girls.
Seeing them flee, Big Head Brother ignored the burning pain in his rear and forced himself up, gritting his teeth.
"After them! Don’t let a single one escape!"
"Especially that four-eyed bastard—I’m gonna wreck him myself!!"
But his lackeys were in no shape to chase anyone.
Several of them had been "ambushed" by the bespectacled guy from Finance University, leaving them barely able to stand, let alone run.
One of the green-haired lackeys shuffled over awkwardly, legs clamped together like a crab, and said, "Big Head Brother, they won’t get far. Like you said, I already called for backup. Two blocks ahead, there are a few pool halls—Second Hair Brother and the others are playing there right now."
Big Head Brother frowned. "Second Hair’s crew alone won’t be enough to stop these kids. Did you call anyone else?"
"Yeah, Big Head Brother, I did." The lackey counted on his fingers. "Vocational College guys, Grain & Trade, Tech Institute, and the crew from Internet Café Street…"
Big Head Brother’s face darkened as he heard the list. "Hold up—how many people did you actually call?"
The lackey stammered, "I—I panicked and called a few extra…"
"A few?!" Big Head Brother smacked him upside the head. "Are you stupid? We’re dealing with a bunch of students—we don’t need an army!"
"How much did you promise them?!"
In the local underworld, most gang leaders knew each other, at least by reputation.
Whether they got along or not, it was useful to have connections—especially when underlings clashed, so they could settle things through their bosses.
Plus, if a leader ever needed extra muscle, they could call in favors from other crews—for a price, of course.
Normally, if it was just for intimidation—no fighting, just a show of force—the going rate was about 50 to 80 bucks per person.
But if things turned physical, the price started at 200 per head.
If they had just called their own crew, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But this time, they’d summoned practically every notable gang in the university district.
If each group brought 50 guys, that meant at least 200 people showing up. Just for standing around, the bill would be over 10,000. And if fists started flying? Multiply that by four.
We’re talking at least 40,000 to 50,000.
For small-time thugs like Big Head Brother and his crew—who blew through their extortion money as fast as they got it—this was a fortune.
No wonder he was furious.
"How much did you promise?!"
The lackey rubbed his head, then timidly held up two fingers.
Big Head Brother frowned. "Twenty? That cheap? Not bad."
The lackey shook his head.
"Two hundred?"
Another shake.
The lackey whispered, "Double."
Big Head Brother’s vision went black. He smacked the lackey repeatedly, cursing, "You idiot! You absolute moron!"
"You think I’m made of money?!"
At the standard rate, they’d already be looking at 200 people. But with double the pay, every gang leader would drag out every warm body they could find—probably over 300 guys.
And if it turned into a real fight? That’d be around 200,000.
Where the hell was he supposed to get that kind of cash? Their protection money was long gone—street thugs didn’t exactly save up.
Big Head Brother was seriously tempted to reenact the "ambush" on this idiot himself.
Just then, the lackey—realizing the mess he’d made—pointed weakly at Huang Feihu. "Big Head Brother… wasn’t this whole thing his fault? Why should we pay?"
Big Head Brother’s eyes lit up. "You’re right. I almost forgot."
He’d been so worked up, he’d overlooked the obvious—they were cleaning up Huang Feihu’s mess. The bill should go to him.
Then he waved at Huang Feihu, who had just caught his breath: "Feihu, come here."
The guy’s forehead was still bleeding. Though it wasn’t a severed artery, he’d lost enough blood to feel a bit lightheaded and disoriented.
"Big Head Brother, what’s up? Huh? Where’d those students go? Did they run?"
"They won’t get far. I’ve already called for backup."
Big Head Brother slung an arm around Huang Feihu’s shoulder and said, "This time, I brought in a tiny bit of outside help. Rules say we gotta pay an appearance fee—so that’s on you, right?"
"Of course, of course," Huang Feihu nodded repeatedly.
Big Head Brother: "Good. Then get 200 grand ready."
???
"WHAT?!" Huang Feihu’s eyes bulged wide open, instantly snapping out of his daze. "You think I’m some rich kid or something?!"
