Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

Ye Xiu's left corner of his mouth twisted upwards into a familiar, cruel arc.

On the dusty construction site, the wind stopped. The surrounding air seemed to drop several degrees because of his terrifying killing intent.

The red-haired thug, who had been quite arrogant, suddenly broke out in goosebumps on the back of his neck.

He swallowed hard. His legs wobbled, his heels hitting the broken bricks, and he involuntarily took a half step back.

But these hundreds of brothers were watching from behind. He felt he had lost face.

"What are you staring at!" Red Hair raised his voice to bolster his courage.

He gripped the hollow steel pipe tightly and took a sharp step forward. The iron lump slammed into Ye Xiu's broad shoulder with two muffled thuds.

"I'm talking to you! Are you deaf or mute?"

The thugs were still poking Ye Xiu's shoulder with steel pipes and cursing.

He spat a mouthful of thick yellow phlegm to the side. His chin was held high, and his nostrils were pointed directly at Ye Xiu.

"If you look at me with those dead fish eyes again, believe me, I'll gouge them out and use them as bubbles to stomp on!"

Several henchmen nearby joined in the shouting. They banged their iron bars against the scaffolding, making a loud clanging sound.

The noise of metal clashing echoed across the empty construction site, giving one a headache.

Ye Xiu's hands, which were hanging down at his sides, slowly clenched into fists.

Ye Xiu clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. A cracking sound, like soybeans bursting, echoed from between his bones.

The veins on the back of his hand were bulging. The gushing blood inside was frighteningly hot, almost bursting through his skin.

With his strength, he can now simply raise his arm.

With just one punch, he could turn these clueless little karaomis into a bloody pulp mixed with yellow mud.

It's the kind of thing you absolutely can't even put together.

Back when he was a mercenary overseas, anyone who displeased him, the Dragon King, had their graves overgrown with weeds. With just a wave of his hand, one of his 100,000 soldiers could turn any city into a river of blood.

Ye Xiu's breathing was heavy and labored, like a leaky old bellows. His chest heaved violently.

He kept his head down, his gaze fixed on the filthy puddle.

A layer of murky oil floated on the water's surface. The two golden, crispy fried chicken legs were now covered in black, foul-smelling mud, with half of them still submerged in the dirty water.

That was the flesh he earned by carrying eight tons of steel bars, pushing two hundred truckloads of cement, and sweating profusely.

He was so tired that his thigh muscles were trembling, and he was just hoping to fill his stomach with this oily food.

It's all ruined now.

Ye Xiu slowly raised his right hand and touched the patched pocket of his work pants.

But when he reached for his pocket, he touched a hard, hard corner.

It was a "Model Worker Certificate" wrapped tightly in several layers of transparent plastic. The foreman had just given it to him yesterday.

Ye Xiu's movements suddenly stopped.

Through the rough fabric, the cardboard box he bought for a few dozen yuan felt like a red-hot branding iron, burning his fingertips all the way to his heart.

He recalled the sense of relief he felt when he received the 500 yuan bonus yesterday.

I remembered the man in the old police uniform standing in the dust, saying in a calm tone, "Keep it safe, don't get it dirty."

That was the first time in his thirty years of life that he felt like a decent person who could earn a living with his own hands.

He wasn't some cold-blooded demon; he was just an ordinary bricklayer.

Killing is exhilarating. It's just a matter of snapping your fingers.

But if someone is killed, the 500 yuan will have to be used to pay a fine or medical expenses.

This tightly wrapped red booklet became nothing more than waste paper.

He was dragged back by Lu Jingyan and forced to work day and night on a sewing machine in that dark cell. He ate nothing but boiled cabbage every day, never seeing a single piece of meat.

Most importantly, Lu Jingyan's expressionless face flashed through his mind.

Ye Xiu took a deep breath.

A cool breeze carrying sand and dust entered his lungs, clearing his feverish mind a bit.

He clenched his back teeth tightly. A hard lump bulged out of the muscles in his cheek, and his temples throbbed.

He forcefully suppressed his anger.

His crooked smile crumbled. He forcibly concealed the murderous intent in his eyes, transforming himself into an honest, sullen expression.

He turned around, his broad back facing the still-shouting redhead.

He rummaged in his pocket a couple of times, but didn't pull out any deadly hidden weapons.

He pulled out a Nokia old-fashioned phone with a cracked screen from his worn-out work pants.

The outer casing was wrapped with several layers of transparent tape, and even the back cover was cracked. The edges of the tape were covered with black machine oil and cement dust.

The numbers on the keys have long since worn away. When the screen backlight is on, it emits a pale white light.

Red Hair paused for half a second.

He stared at the broken phone, his mouth agape, then suddenly clutched his stomach and burst into laughter.

"Holy crap... Hahaha! Ouch!"

Red Hair laughed until tears streamed down his face. Holding a steel pipe, he pointed at Ye Xiu's muscular back, laughing so hard he bent over.

"Hey big guy, you...you've been rummaging in your pocket for ages, and all you pulled out was this piece of junk? Trying to kill me?"

The henchmen behind them burst into laughter. Someone blew a hooligan whistle loudly, while someone else smashed a nearby tin bucket with a steel pipe.

"What? You want to call in more people?"

Red Hair took a step closer and tapped Ye Xiu on the back with the steel pipe, producing a dull thud.

"Go ahead and hit me! Even if you call your mother here today, this construction site is still yours to clear out!"

He spat on the ground and laughed so hard he could barely breathe.

"Ask the people you called, do they dare to interfere in our boss's affairs? We are the Night..."

Ye Xiu ignored these idiots.

He used his large, muddy fingers to forcefully press three numbers on the chipped-out buttons. He pressed 110.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The loud, jarring key sounds typical of older mobile phones were audible and jarring on the noisy construction site.

The phone beeped twice. Then, the dispatcher answered with a clear and articulate question.

"Hello, this is the Jinghai City 110 Command Center. How can I help you?"

Hearing this formal, official tone, Ye Xiu felt a sudden pang of sadness.

He stared at the two fried chicken legs covered in mud on the ground. His stomach churned with emptiness, and he was aching with hunger.

The call connected, and the Dragon King, who once commanded 100,000 soldiers, shouted into the phone, filled with grievance and indignation: "Hello, is this 110? I need to report a crime! Someone is causing trouble at the construction site in the northern suburbs!"