The crowd causing trouble numbered at least sixty or seventy people, a chaotic mass blocking the entrance of the supermarket.
Yet after several minutes, not a single one of them managed to break through the doors.
Standing at the entrance, Yun Cheng exuded an aura of "one man holding the pass against ten thousand."
A few troublemakers in the crowd, seeing this, couldn’t help but curse: "Useless! Every last one of them is useless!"
But this was to be expected. Most of these people were ordinary folks who had been stirred up—what kind of cohesion could they have? Once the ones at the front were easily taken down, those behind naturally grew hesitant.
If this crowd had been made up of hardened gangsters, united in purpose, Yun Cheng alone might not have been able to hold them off.
Five hundred meters away, inside a parked black business van, two sneaky heads were pressed against the window, watching.
"What the hell is this? They’re completely useless! Can’t even handle such a simple task?"
"No kidding. From the videos they recorded, it looks like they didn’t achieve anything—might’ve even given that guy more fans."
"You’re really stupid, aren’t you? Just get someone to edit the footage! Cut out the close-ups of him hitting older folks, and it’s done."
"Good point!"
"But speaking of which, are the Dragon Society guys even coming? Feels like they’ve bailed."
"No way they won’t show. If they don’t, I’ll give them a little push."
As he spoke, the bald-headed man pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Hey, Young Master Yu, things aren’t looking good! Some kid’s too good at fighting—the rabble we stirred up can’t break in."
"Yeah, right, right."
"What? Call in more people? Gotta ruin the Dragon Society’s reputation? Young Master Yu, that’s a tall order."
"Gotta pay extra!"
After some haggling, the bald man finally hung up. He rubbed his head and turned to the young man beside him. "You sure your plan will work?"
The young man grinned confidently. "Relax, Brother Guang. We’ve got experience with this. Our troll army’s combat effectiveness is top-notch. We once successfully smeared a singer who disobeyed his company—got him blacklisted and buried."
"Online influence is still strong these days. As long as the footage is explosive enough and our trolls spread it far and wide, the authorities will definitely take notice of a gang like the Dragon Society."
"Besides, I’ve already had people anonymously tip off the major news outlets. There’ll always be reporters willing to take the risk. You think the officials in Bright Pearl City will let public opinion spiral out of control? They’ll come down hard on the Dragon Society."
"Once all this is done, Young Master Yu’s goal will be achieved."
The bald man nodded in satisfaction. "Yeah, that’s a solid plan. When it’s done, you’ll get your cut."
Though the power of public opinion wasn’t as overwhelming as it would be in later years, major portals, blogs, forums, and social media still spread things fast.
"Thanks, Brother Guang!"
The young man’s face lit up with joy, but inwardly, he gloated: "Liu Yutong, oh Liu Yutong, you’d never guess, would you? Last time, even though my arm ‘accidentally’ got broken and I ended up in the hospital, I met some powerful people. I can’t beat you in a real fight, but now I’ve got an army of trolls at my disposal. Let’s see how I deal with you!"
This young man was none other than Deng Zheyan, the same guy who had been forced to kneel and sing in submission after being beaten up by Yu Fei and his crew.
Strangely enough, Deng Zheyan seemed to have a stroke of luck whenever he was hospitalized. This time, he met an investor in the same ward—they hit it off, and the guy ended up investing a million in him.
With that money, he immediately opened an internet café.
Truth be told, Deng Zheyan’s family wasn’t poor, but he’d been scammed twice before, losing nearly a hundred grand. After that, his family refused to fund any more of his ventures.
His father had even come to firmly believe one saying: "It’s not the playboy heirs you should fear, but the ambitious ones."
Before Deng Zheyan’s two big failures, the family business had been smooth sailing. But after he lost all that money, his father noticed their business started going downhill—and fast.
That only reinforced his father’s belief that he couldn’t support his son’s reckless entrepreneurial dreams.
So, despite his grand ambitions, Deng Zheyan had been stuck.
Until this hospital stay, where he coincidentally met an investor who’d fractured his ankle. The man gave him a million.
With that seed money, the internet café was quickly renovated and opened.
But business wasn’t exactly booming—at least, not enough to meet the revenue targets set in his agreement with the investor. Only by hitting those targets could he secure more funding, expand into a chain, and realize his dreams of a business empire.
While brooding over how to boost revenue, he met a regular at the café.
The guy looked utterly unremarkable but spent lavishly—ordering instant noodles with three extra eggs every time.
Later, Deng Zheyan learned he ran a troll farm. Small-scale, but profitable.
An idea took root: why not diversify the café’s business?
So, he and the troll farm operator joined forces, and their operations grew.
At first, they only took small jobs, scraping by. But soon, they managed to take down a singer—though he was just a no-name talent show contestant.
Well, not entirely no-name. He was the type whose song was famous, but not the singer.
You’d probably recognize his one hit—hum along as soon as the melody played—but ask who sang it or what he looked like, and most people would draw a blank.
Deng Zheyan still didn’t know how the singer had offended his label, but regardless, they’d pulled it off.
The reputation of "King Yan’s Troll Army" gradually spread in certain circles, and profits rose.
Of course, all that revenue was funneled into the café’s financial reports. Deng Zheyan didn’t care about the petty cash—what he wanted was the investor’s next round of funding.
Now, with the café’s revenue target still out of reach, a golden opportunity fell into his lap.
The bald man had handed him a major contract: smear the Dragon Society.
Though the Dragon Society was already plenty shady, Deng Zheyan agreed without hesitation the moment he learned they were the target.
He even took charge personally.
After all, he wasn’t one to hold grudges.
Of course, both he and the bald man were smart enough to stay hidden in the shadows.
The bald man made another call, and soon, over a dozen thugs trickled into the crowd.
These thugs were actually hired by the bald man in advance, prepared for such critical moments to better negotiate with their wealthy backer and demand more money.
Soon enough,
the dozen or so thugs led the agitated crowd to charge toward the supermarket again.
This time, however, they had clearly learned their lesson and adjusted their tactics.
The thugs split into two groups—one group focused on restraining the extraordinarily skilled man, while the others went straight for the girl who had been silently observing from behind him.
"Hey, Guang-ge, won’t the police be here soon?"
"Even if they come, it’s fine. The law doesn’t punish the masses. These people are all deceived victims—who arrests who might not even be clear by then."
"This isn’t the university district."
"........."
