Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

The monkey was quite shrewd; upon hearing the commotion and seeing Chen Feng's ambiguous smile, the hairs on the back of its neck instantly stood on end.

It was a sixth sense that only appeared when facing Chen Feng on the verge of exploding—if I didn't run, I was bound to suffer a beating tonight!

"Feng... Brother Feng! You're back so soon?" Monkey sprang up from his chair, his smile more like a grimace. "Um, I just remembered the bulldozer outside hasn't had gas yet, I'll go check it out..."

After saying that, he threw away his cigarette and, like an oiled rat, darted towards the window.

"Screw you! Get back here!"

Chen Feng wasn't about to let him get away. With lightning speed, he took two steps forward and grabbed the monkey by the back of the neck in front of the only escape window.

"Hey hey hey! Brother Feng! Brother Feng, spare me! Let's talk this out! A gentleman uses words, not fists!" The monkey's two legs kicked helplessly in mid-air, like a cat whose fate was being squeezed by the scruff of its neck.

"A gentleman? I'm just a scoundrel!" Chen Feng sneered, and with a single effort, he lifted the skinny man back to the middle of the room and threw him onto the broken sofa.

With a loud "bang".

The monkey was thrown around in a daze. Just as it was about to get up, it saw Chen Feng slowly unbuckle his belt.

"Snapped!"

The belt snapped in mid-air with a sharp crack.

The few spectators around had already retreated to the wall, each covering their mouths and chuckling, some even taking out a handful of sunflower seeds from their pockets and starting to crack them open.

"Brother Feng, I...I'm doing this for your own good!" Monkey huddled in the corner of the sofa, hands covering his chest, looking indignant. "Just think about it, those ninety-nine roses, how impressive! How prestigious! Wasn't that reporter Hao moved to tears?"

"Touched?" Chen Feng laughed angrily, pointing his belt at the monkey's nose. "Are you the wind and I'm the sand? Are you a cantaloupe and I'm a melon?"

"Ah...this..." The monkey's eyes darted away.

"Still willing to be a slave?" Chen Feng gritted his teeth. "I'm all in cahoots with my brothers, and you're outmaneuvering us? Do you know how I looked like a monkey on stage at that newspaper office today? Huh?!"

"Go and get the hemp rope used to tie the sandbags, let's give our 'great poet' some inspiration." Chen Feng pointed to the iron hook on the roof beam used to hang the ceiling fan.

"No, no, no! Brother Feng, I was wrong! I was really wrong!" Upon seeing this, the monkey let out a pig-like scream.

One minute later.

A classic scene unfolded in the Fenghua Battlefield office.

The monkey was hung upside down from the roof beam, like a piece of cured meat. With a gentle flick of Chen Feng's finger, the monkey began to draw circles in mid-air.

"Ugh... Brother Feng... Stop spinning... I'm going to throw up..." The monkey's face was flushed, and his hands hung limply at his sides.

Chen Feng pulled up a chair and sat down, holding the copy of the *Donghai Daily* he'd brought back from the newspaper office. He rolled it into a tube and rhythmically tapped the monkey's bottom while muttering:

"You are the wind and I am the sand, right?"

"Snapped!"

"Aww!"

"You're a Hami and I'm a Melon, right?"

"Snapped!"

"Ouch! Brother Feng, stop hitting me! My butt's going to get a bloody pulp!"

"You think you're the hottest guy, huh? I'm just a roughneck."

"Snapped!"

"That's a compliment, Feng! It really is a compliment!"

"So much for your dedication." Chen Feng threw down the newspaper, stood up, and gave the spinning monkey another feint kick. "If it weren't for Hao Mei's last smile, I would have skinned you alive and made a fur coat out of you!"

Upon hearing this, the monkey hanging upside down instantly brightened up and stopped crying out in pain; this guy's ability to grasp the key points has always been top-notch.

"Huh? What did you say, Feng-ge? Reporter Hao laughed? She laughed?!"

Ignoring the rush of blood to his head, the monkey excitedly shouted, "I told you so! It had to be me! Brother Feng, it worked out! A woman's smile is the first step to falling in love! This beating wasn't for nothing!"

Chen Feng was both amused and annoyed by the guy's nonchalant attitude.

"Alright, put him down." Chen Feng waved his hand. "If he stays hanging there any longer, his brain will become even less sharp."

The two underlings then went over with grins and untied the rope.

"Buzz—Buzz—"

Just as everyone was laughing and joking, a hurried voice rang out.

The monkey immediately perked up, peeking out with a mischievous grin: "Hey! Has Reporter Hao finally realized he misses Brother Feng? I told you, women..."

Chen Feng picked up his phone, glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen, and frowned slightly. Unknown calls at this hour usually weren't good news.

He raised his hand to silence the monkey, then pressed the answer button, his voice steady: "Who is this?"

A deep, emotionless voice came from the other end of the phone: "Is this Chen Feng?"

"I am."

"I'm Ah Hu, I drive for Ninth Master."

Upon hearing the words "Ninth Master," Chen Feng's previously casual posture instantly straightened, and his eyes sharpened. The air in the office seemed to freeze instantly; even Da Gang, who was eating sunflower seeds nearby, stopped what he was doing and keenly sensed the change in atmosphere.

"Brother Tiger, what brings you here so late?" Chen Feng asked calmly, neither servile nor arrogant.

"Ninth Master invites you to the South City Teahouse tomorrow evening at six o'clock." The voice on the other end of the phone paused, then carried an undeniable air of authority. "Ninth Master invites you for tea."

"Okay, please tell Ninth Master that I will be there on time."

"Beep...beep..." The phone was disconnected immediately.

Chen Feng slowly put down his phone, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag.

"Brother Feng, who is it?" Monkey noticed Chen Feng's strange expression and cautiously approached. "Why so serious?"

"Ninth Master," Chen Feng exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes deep and unfathomable, "it seems the recent commotion has been too great, and the old man can't sit still anymore; he wants to step in and act as referee."

The monkey gasped, "That...that was a trap?"

"Whether it's a trap or not, we'll only know when we get there." Chen Feng stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, a cold smile playing on his lips. "But since they invited me, they must have invited Mad Dog Qiang too. If we're not having a good time, Mad Dog will probably be having an even worse time."

......

Meanwhile, on the other side, Mad Dog Qiang was also racking his brains over the "rules".

Mad Dog Qiang's office was filled with smoke, and the floor was littered with cigarette butts and empty bottles, like a battle that hadn't ended.

Snake Eyes spread the ledger on the table and said in a low voice, "Brother Qiang, tomorrow is the due date, and we don't have enough money in our accounts."

"Nonsense, I don't know that?" Mad Dog Qiang kicked over a chair, his eyes bloodshot.

Snake Eyes stammered, "We've lost a lot of clients at our sand pit lately. That bastard Chen Feng's prices are lower than ours, and many bosses have gone to him, causing our revenue to drop by 30%!" He swallowed hard. "How about... we pay less? Ninth Master might not be able to afford it lately—"

"Do you want to die?" Mad Dog whirled around, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. "Not a penny less of Ninth Master's money. If it's less, it's telling Ninth Master: I'm finished."

Snake Eyes dared not utter a sound.

Mad Dog took a deep drag on his cigarette, as if swallowing the pent-up frustration in his chest. He opened a drawer, pulled out a stack of bankbooks and a bundle of cash, and slammed them on the table: "I'll cover the difference. It has to be paid in full by tomorrow."

Snake Eyes stared at the stack of money, a chill running through him: Brother Qiang was using his own blood to maintain appearances. But blood can last a day, not a lifetime.