Deng Zheyan and his gang seemed either overly confident or emboldened by some unspoken assurance, acting with utter disregard for anyone around them.
They were waiting for someone at the restaurant, but as boredom set in, they casually grabbed bottles of beer from the shelves and started drinking right in front of the staff.
Then, they pulled out two decks of playing cards and gathered around a table, their raucous laughter and rowdy shouts filling the entire dining hall.
Even worse, after finishing the beers, they simply tossed the empty bottles onto the floor. Glass shards scattered everywhere, the sharp shattering sounds grating on the ears.
The staff stood by, seething with anger but too intimidated to intervene, forced to watch helplessly as the gang ran wild.
Yet the more the staff held back, the more brazen Deng Zheyan and his little gang of troublemakers became.
They shouted and banged on the table, demanding more beer and yelling for peanuts to go with their drinks.
When the waitstaff didn’t immediately comply, the leader of the gang—Brother Erkun, whom Deng Zheyan had brought along—rolled up his sleeves, revealing a heavily tattooed arm.
With a loud bang, he smashed an empty beer bottle on the floor, making several servers flinch and step back in fear.
“Did you go deaf?! I said bring us more beer and peanuts!”
“You want me to trash this dump of a place?!”
Though fuming inside, the staff had no choice but to swallow their pride in the face of these thugs.
Reluctantly, they brought out more beer and peanuts, placing them on the gang’s table.
Once restocked, the troublemakers erupted into another round of shouting.
They gulped down beer, flung cards across the table, and cursed loudly between swigs.
Some customers who had just walked in took one look at the scene and immediately turned around to leave.
After who knows how many drinks, Deng Zheyan, now swaying unsteadily, stood up to head to the restroom.
Meanwhile, Brother Erkun, also thoroughly drunk, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and staggered toward the restaurant’s entrance for some fresh air—and a smoke.
As he walked, he fished out his phone, ready to call the manager of his usual internet café to reserve a dozen or so spots for him and his buddies to game later—after all, Deng Zheyan was footing the bill.
Just as he reached the restaurant entrance, Brother Erkun pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips, and bent his head to search for a lighter.
Maybe it was the unsettling darkness outside that caught his attention. Muttering under his breath, he grumbled, "The hell? Why’s it so damn dark out here? Can’t even spare a streetlight?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a plump hand appeared in front of him, clutching a lighter.
With a click, the flame flickered to life, casting a glow on Brother Erkun’s flushed, drunken face.
Then, a low voice rumbled beside his ear, "Bright enough now?"
Brother Erkun instinctively nodded, leaning in to light his cigarette. He took a deep drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke before slurring, "Yeah, yeah, much better. Thanks, man."
"No problem," the stranger replied flatly.
Only then did Brother Erkun squint up at the unfamiliar, round face before him.
He was about to ask, "Who the hell are you?"
But suddenly, the atmosphere around him shifted.
His pupils shrank in an instant, and the cigarette slipped from his fingers, dropping to the ground.
Hundreds of cold, unblinking eyes were locked onto him.
The sheer number of people made the already dim surroundings feel even darker, as if their presence alone had swallowed the last traces of light.
Brother Erkun’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud.
"B-Boss… we’re on the same side, right? All friends here…"
Meanwhile, Deng Zheyan had just stepped out of the restroom, shaking water from his hands as he ambled back toward the lobby.
The moment he entered, his gaze landed on two unfamiliar figures at the front desk—a heavyset man and a bespectaced, scholarly-looking guy.
The two were fiddling with something behind the counter.
The one with glasses, in particular, moved with unsettling precision.
Before long, the younger man flashed the heavier one an "OK" sign.
The latter nodded in understanding—the signal meant the evidence was secured.
Deng Zheyan’s instincts prickled. He glanced up at the ceiling and froze.
Several surveillance cameras had appeared where there were none before.
His heart skipped a beat.
Since when did this restaurant have surveillance cameras?
He distinctly remembered this place had never installed any before!
Careless mistake!
Just as Deng Zheyan was about to call for Brother Erkun and his crew to seize the surveillance evidence, his eyes landed on a strikingly young and beautiful stranger seated calmly on a chair in the middle of the dining hall.
The girl’s expression was icy, her gaze sharp.
The burly man and the bespectled youth, having finished tampering with the front desk, walked straight to her and stood rigidly behind her like bodyguards.
When the girl noticed Deng Zheyan emerging from the restroom, she slowly extended her fair, jade-like hand.
The burly man immediately understood, fetching a bottle of beer and respectfully placing it in her palm.
She took it, then casually flung it to the ground. The bottle shattered with a loud crash, glass shards scattering and beer splashing everywhere.
The sudden noise startled Deng Zheyan.
By now, he had pieced together her identity—she must be the owner behind this restaurant.
Before he could utter a word, the girl grabbed another bottle and hurled it down without hesitation.
Another explosive pop. Glass fragments flew, and beer splattered onto Deng Zheyan’s pant leg.
He was utterly baffled by her actions.
But spotting Brother Erkun and the others still lurking nearby, his confidence surged.
“So you’re the boss, huh? Even if you smash every last bottle in this place—no, even if you wreck the whole damn restaurant—you’re still paying for our losses!”
The girl ignored him. She picked up a third bottle and tossed it. Another deafening smash.
Meanwhile, the burly man and the intimidatingly cold-eyed youth sprang into action.
They hauled every bottle and keg from the bar, piling them into a small mountain in the center of the hall.
Then, the girl rose, her frosty gaze sweeping over Deng Zheyan before locking onto the gang of thugs behind him.
“Go on. Join in. This isn’t over until everything’s smashed.”
Deng Zheyan’s mind reeled. What the hell was she playing at?
But what stunned him more was seeing the thugs he’d called actually obeying.
Led by Brother Erkun, the group descended into a frenzy of destruction. The relentless barrage of shattering glass echoed like firecrackers.
By the time the last bottle was destroyed, the hall lay in ruins—a battlefield of glittering debris and spilled liquor.
The ground was littered with shattered glass, alcohol spilled everywhere, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of liquor.
The thugs, having finished their rampage, stood obediently to the side, as docile as children.
Brother Erkun’s voice trembled as he spoke to the girl, "C-can we leave now?"
Deng Zheyan grew frantic at these words. "She hasn’t paid us back yet! How can she just leave?!"
Before he could finish, Brother Erkun slapped him hard across the face. "Shut the hell up!"
The blow was so forceful that Deng Zheyan nearly spun in place, his cheek instantly swelling red.
"What the hell, Brother Erkun? Why’d you hit me?"
Deng Zheyan never expected the people he’d called for help would turn on him.
"Not only am I gonna hit you, I’m gonna kick your ass too!"
Brother Erkun had clearly lost his temper and began pummeling Deng Zheyan with punches and kicks.
Deng Zheyan curled into a ball, groaning in pain.
After about seven or eight minutes, Brother Erkun finally stopped.
Deng Zheyan clutched his stomach in agony, his clothes stained with dust and alcohol, his face bruised purple and blue, unable to even crawl away.
Only then did Brother Erkun turn back, forcing an ingratiating smile as he cautiously approached the girl. "So… can we go now?"
Even an idiot like Deng Zheyan could tell Brother Erkun had switched sides—he just didn’t understand why.
The girl—Liu Yutong—simply crooked a finger.
Ma Da, standing behind her, immediately understood and handed over a freshly printed price list for the restaurant’s drinks.
"I’m not trying to scam you. Pay according to these prices, and you’re free to go."
Brother Erkun took the list, glanced down, and nearly fainted.
Beer: 100 a bottle. Liquor: at least 1,000 a bottle.
Looking at the sea of broken glass covering the floor, this was going to cost him tens of thousands!
Even if he sold himself to a black-market labor camp, he’d never be able to pay it back!
But if he didn’t pay, he thought of the gangsters waiting outside, glaring like tigers, and his heart sank.
If he didn’t cough up the money, he probably wouldn’t make it out the door alive.
With that in mind, Brother Erkun yanked Deng Zheyan up from the floor and snarled, "This is your mess! You’re paying for it! If you don’t, I’ll kill you myself!"
With that, he slammed the price list right into Deng Zheyan's face.
Though Deng Zheyan didn’t understand why Brother Erkun was so afraid of these people, he could tell something serious had happened.
And now, the only way out was to pay up.
His hands trembling, Deng Zheyan picked up the price list and glanced down—then froze in disbelief.
A single bottle of beer was priced at a hundred bucks?
This was outright robbery!
