The sudden turn of events terrified the eraser, who immediately shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Holy shit! Stop! All of you, fucking stop!!!”
If Lin Muyang got hurt for real, there’d definitely be another victim floating in the northern river by tomorrow.
But his underlings seemed deaf to his words.
“Eraser Bro, what’d you say? Didn’t catch that—you got a lisp or something?!”
“Eraser Bro, did this punk threaten you? Don’t worry! We got your back!”
“Back my ass! I’m apologizing! Apologizing, got it?!” the eraser roared in frustration.
One of the underlings—actually an undercover assassin—deliberately twisted his words.
“Huh? Eraser Bro said ‘accompany to sleep’! Bros, this pretty boy must’ve taken a fancy to Eraser Bro and forced him into it! Eraser Bro would rather die than submit! Bros, protect Eraser Bro’s virtue! Charge!”
The eraser: “???”
What the hell was this nonsense?
“Back my ass! I said ‘apologize’! ‘Apologize’! Can’t you understand human speech?! We’re here to apologize to Young Master Lin, not fight, let alone chop someone up! Stop this madness!”
“Wait, who the hell are you? I don’t recognize you!”
But the troublemaking assassin drowned out his voice.
“Huh? ‘Accompany to drink’?”
“What’s Eraser Bro saying? ‘Pay for drinks’? What’s that mean? Is this pretty boy trying to get Eraser Bro drunk so he can take advantage of him?”
“Could be! Eraser Bro’s got a high tolerance—must be some dirty trick. No wonder he’s so scared! Look, his face is green—must be poisoned!”
The eraser: “…” (Internally: My face is green because you idiots are pissing me off! Why did I bring these morons along?!)
But no matter how much he yelled, it was already too late.
Not because it was completely unstoppable, but because one particularly sneaky bastard took advantage of the chaos and suddenly lunged with a knife toward the girl who had been sitting quietly on the sidelines, as if none of this concerned her.
The nail artist and nearby vendors had long since fled in terror.
The eraser’s gang had already been intimidating enough, but now they were openly wielding weapons in public—who wouldn’t run?
The attacker was one of the two assassins.
They had planned this beforehand—one would create a distraction while the other struck the real target.
Originally, they had hoped the gang would clash with Lin Muyang’s group, giving them the perfect cover.
But to their surprise, the gang leader actually knew Lin Muyang, ruining their plan.
So they had to improvise.
The assassin targeting Liu Yutong had quietly closed in while everyone’s attention was on Lin Muyang and the gang.
Liu Yutong, perhaps startled by his sudden appearance with a knife, seemed frozen in place, not even attempting to move.
A normal reaction—how many eighteen- or nineteen-year-old girls could stay calm when faced with a blade-wielding killer?
With the knife just inches from Liu Yutong’s body, the assassin couldn’t suppress a grin—he could already see the mission accomplished.
“Liu Yutong, blame your bad luck—”
“Huh???”
His triumphant sneer instantly stiffened into confusion.
Just as he was about to strike, his arm suddenly locked in midair, as if welded in place.
Even weirder—his feet were no longer touching the ground.
He looked down in disbelief.
His legs dangled about a foot above the pavement, as if he’d suddenly gained the power of levitation.
Straining his neck, he looked up.
A massive face, like a steel tower blocking out all light, stared down at him.
A terrifyingly tall giant, his expression oddly gentle for such a hulking frame, wearing only a thin long-sleeved shirt in the middle of winter and an apron that read [Wu Dalang Barbecue].
The giant tilted his enormous head slightly, his voice a deep rumble laced with confusion.
“Huh? Where’d this little grasshopper come from, hopping around like that? Can’t you see our young lady’s getting her nails done?”
The assassin nearly spat blood.
Little grasshopper?! Who the hell was a grasshopper?!
He was a professional killer!
He struggled, but the giant just shook him like a ragdoll on a clothesline, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
His knife clattered to the ground, where Yun Cheng—cold-faced and wearing white gloves—picked it up and sealed it in an evidence bag.
The professional handling gave the assassin a sense of déjà vu—this was how cops processed crime scenes, wasn’t it?
Liu Yutong glanced at the assassin, now purple-faced from being dangled midair, and asked calmly,
“Is this all of them?”
“Yes, Young Lady,” Yun Cheng replied.
After surveilling the night market with hundreds of men, these two were the only suspicious ones they’d found.
Liu Yutong gave a slight nod.
“In that case, wrap it up.”
The moment she spoke, the expressions of the onlookers—including the eraser and his gang—froze in horror.
All around them, seemingly ordinary passersby, vendors, and shop staff suddenly moved in unison, stripping off disguises to reveal identical black uniforms.
On each left chest was embroidered a dragon emblem—the exclusive symbol of the Ten Thousand Dragons Society.
As they assembled, the neon lights of the night market seemed to vanish under an overwhelming tide of black, leaving only an oppressive, suffocating darkness.
No battle cries, no threats—just bone-chilling silence.
“Holy mother! Who the hell are these people?!”
“Th-that’s the Ten Thousand Dragons Society, right?”
“Damn it, Sun Dog, you got us killed!”
The eraser and his gang felt their legs give way. A few of the weaker ones collapsed to their knees.
The eraser himself was beyond regret. Offending Lin Muyang had already made him want to die.
Now, realizing he’d provoked something far worse, despair swallowed him whole.
Just what kind of monsters had he crossed?!
The bystanders weren’t faring any better.
Some people clamped their hands over their mouths to stifle their screams, while others fled in terror, ducking into nearby shops and slamming the doors shut. A few tried to run but found their legs had turned to jelly, leaving them no choice but to huddle like frightened quails in the corners, trembling uncontrollably.
The entire night market street had transformed into an eerie vacuum, centered around the nail art stall, with only the faint strains of distant music drifting through the air.
Amidst this suffocating tide of darkness, Liu Yutong stood up and stepped forward to face the two assassins.
Her exquisitely beautiful face no longer held even a trace of her earlier amused detachment—replaced instead by an icy, unreadable coldness.
"Make sure they’re properly entertained," she commanded. "Before the cops arrive, I want every last piece of information wrung out of them."
"Yes, Young Mistress!" roared hundreds of voices in unison, startling the already shell-shocked onlookers once more.
The members of the Ten Thousand Dragons Syndicate were seething with fury. From the moment they’d learned someone dared to target their Young Mistress, they had been holding back.
Not a single one of them could tolerate even the slightest harm coming to her.
If not for the syndicate’s rules—ingrained into their minds through relentless discipline—they would have already torn these men limb from limb.
But given that these were ruthless killers, it was only reasonable, wasn’t it, if they happened to use a bit of excessive force while subduing them? Just a few... minor "superficial injuries"?
What followed was a scene so brutally poetic it moved countless witnesses to... tears.
Right then, the distant music seemed to grow clearer.
"If evil is a magnificent, cruel symphony~~~"
"I will write its finale with my own hands~~~"
"The dawn’s light dries the last line of sorrow~~~~"
"Black ink stains the peace........"
At the mouth of the alley, Su Qing stood frozen, her mind blank as she stared at the unfolding chaos.
Now she understood why Xue Linna had held her back, stopping her from rushing forward earlier.
Even for someone as worldly as Su Qing, the horrifying scene before her—and the girl at its center, surrounded by a black tide of bodyguards, radiating the commanding presence of a mafia princess—left an indelible mark on her soul.
This was a moment she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.
"Wait… what did you say her name was?"
