Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Inside the abandoned brick kiln in the west of the city, the air was stagnant, like a pool of still water. The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, casting intermittent light and shadow on Chen Feng's cold face.

The skinny monkey lifted the bulging sack onto the broken wooden table with a dull thud. He untied the sack, revealing its contents—several bundles of strips carefully wrapped in oiled paper, emitting a pungent chemical smell; and a long weapon wrapped in rags, its metal parts gleaming eerily in the dim light.

"Big Steel Bro, got it, what do you think?" Skinny Monkey's voice carried a hint of relief after completing the task, as well as a subtle sense of awe.

Chen Feng stepped forward, his gaze falling on the sack. He first picked up a bundle of oil paper packets, weighed them in his hand, and then brought them closer to smell them. Ammonium nitrate mixed explosives, good quality and sufficient quantity. Then he uncovered the tattered cloth, revealing a well-maintained Type 56 submachine gun—a copy of the Soviet PPSH-41, commonly known as the "PPSH," with drum magazine, fierce firepower, and a close-combat weapon. The gun body was somewhat old, but the chamber was clean and the mechanism was smooth.

"Okay, not bad." Chen Feng's voice was flat as he picked up the submachine gun, skillfully inspected the bolt and chamber, and then checked the drum magazine—it was empty. He pulled out two heavy drum magazines from the corner of the sack, each loaded with 71 rounds, both fully loaded.

He slung the submachine gun sling over his shoulder, tucking the drum magazine into a specially made leather holster at his waist. Then he began to organize his equipment. He checked and loaded two Type 54 pistols, placing them behind his left and right hips respectively, concealed by the hem of his leather jacket. The revolver was reserved for Xiaoyu for self-defense. He adjusted the dagger in his boot to the most comfortable position. Finally, he picked up the Type 56 submachine gun, adjusted the sling to the right length, and slung it diagonally across his front, muzzle pointing downwards.

His leather jacket collar was turned up, and he wore sunglasses that obscured most of his face and eyes. At this moment, Chen Feng exuded a cold aura that blended the smells of gunpowder, steel, and death, like a killing machine straight out of a war movie.

Skinny Monkey and his three other henchmen stood aside, barely daring to breathe. They weren't unfamiliar with ruthless characters, but they had never seen anyone like "Wang Dagang"—silent, precise, and every step exuding an aura of death. Especially when he picked up that submachine gun, the overwhelming sense of oppression was almost suffocating.

"I'm taking the stuff," Chen Feng said, giving all the equipment a final check to make sure nothing was missing. His voice, coming through his sunglasses, sounded somewhat muffled. "You guys go do your business. Remember, be swift and decisive when you act, don't leave any loose ends."

"Understood, Brother Gang!" Skinny Monkey replied immediately. "We'll take action against those people on the list tonight, and make sure they're all shut up before dawn!"

Chen Feng nodded, saying nothing more. He picked up the sack containing the remaining explosives, slung his submachine gun over his shoulder, and turned to leave the brick kiln. His leather boots clattered clearly and steadily on the broken bricks and tiles, gradually disappearing into the darkness deep within the shantytown.

Skinny Monkey and the others only breathed a sigh of relief when the footsteps were completely out of earshot. Iron Head wiped the cold sweat from his forehead: "My goodness... Big Steel's aura... my legs were a little weak just now."

"Enough with the nonsense!" Skinny Monkey glared at him, his eyes still showing lingering fear. "Get to work! Stick to the plan, split up! Mudskipper and Gap Tooth, you two go to the south of the city; Iron Head, you come with me to the east. Leave no one on the list alive! Be thorough!"

The night grew even heavier because of the impending bloody purge.

Chen Feng did not go directly to the Zhao family's house. He first went around to a nearby, uninhabited, dilapidated courtyard that he had already scouted out, and hid the submachine gun and most of the explosives in a dry cellar, carrying only a small amount of explosives and a pistol with him.

The Zhao family lived in the Workers' New Village in the west of the city, a cluster of Soviet-style red brick buildings constructed in the 1950s. Although not high-end, it was far better than the shantytowns and most tenement courtyards. Zhao Jianguo, as the acting director of the street office (before his death), was allocated a well-located second-floor apartment. After his death, the Zhao brothers and relatives of the Wang family often gathered there, which became their temporary command center for discussing their "revenge plan."

When Chen Feng arrived, it was already past ten o'clock at night. The workers' new village was relatively quiet, with most windows lit up and the faint sounds of radios or family members talking could be heard. However, the area downstairs in Unit 2 of Building 3, where the Zhao family lived, was rather "lively".

Two bicycles were parked at the entrance of the building. The hallway was brightly lit, and faint, hushed arguments could be heard coming from upstairs, suggesting there were quite a few people involved. Shadows moved about inside the windows, and smoke drifted out from the cracks.

Chen Feng didn't approach the building entrance. He went around to the back of the building, where some miscellaneous items and old furniture were piled up, along with a few half-dead holly trees. He crouched in the shade of a clump of holly trees, like a night owl waiting for its chance, quietly observing.

Upstairs in room 302, the window was slightly ajar, and intermittent sounds of arguing could be heard.

"...Wang Dagang's men must have found something! I heard they spent half the afternoon inquiring around the shantytown in the south of the city!"

"What are we waiting for? Let's go! We can't let those gangsters beat us to it!"

"Go? How do I get there? Do you even know the exact location? The shantytown is so big, it's like a maze!"

"What are we going to do? Just wait? By the time Wang Dagang catches him, we won't even get a taste of the spoils!"

"What's the rush! I've asked around at the police station, and Wang Dagang's gang has been making a lot of noise lately. The police are keeping an eye on them! Let's not rush in yet; let them deal with the police first..."

"What are you doing touching him! What if Wang Dagang really catches him, kills him, or takes him away? Who are we going to get revenge on then?"

"..."

The voices were noisy and expressed differing opinions. There were Zhao Jianguo's brothers' voices, Wang Qiang's voice, and several other male voices whose identities were unclear. It seemed the Zhao family wasn't a unified entity; everyone had their own agenda.

Chen Feng waited patiently. Time passed second by second. The arguing upstairs gradually subsided, as if some temporary compromise had been reached. About half an hour later, footsteps and farewells could be heard in the hallway.

"Alright, that's enough for today. Everyone go back and rest. Tomorrow morning, we'll split up and inquire. Let us know immediately if we have any news!"

"Yes, everyone be alert and keep an eye out for any activity in the black market and the shantytowns!"

"Let's go, let's go."

Several people emerged from the building entrance, loaded their bicycles, exchanged a few whispered words, and then disappeared into the night. Chen Feng counted; five people had left, all men. The lights upstairs were still on, and although the number of figures in the windows had decreased, some remained.

After waiting for another ten minutes or so, and confirming that no one would be coming in or out for the time being, Chen Feng made his move.

He emerged from behind the holly tree, like a weightless shadow, silently approaching the base of the back wall of the building. This was an old-style building, with exposed drainpipes and some protrusions on the exterior walls. Chen Feng grabbed the pipes, using both hands and feet, moving with the agility of a gecko, and in a few moments climbed to the outer edge of the kitchen window of the Zhao family on the second floor.

The window was closed, but the old-fashioned latch wasn't secure. Chen Feng took a small piece of thin wire from his pocket, inserted it through the window crack, and gently pried at it. In less than half a minute, with a soft "click," the latch opened.

He gently pushed open the window, climbed in, and landed silently.

The kitchen was dark, filled with the mixed smell of leftover food and tobacco. Chen Feng adjusted to the darkness and listened intently. He could hear two men talking quietly from the living room, and snoring coming from the bedroom; there was more than one person.

Great, everyone is here.

Chen Feng didn't rush into the living room. He first checked the kitchen to make sure no one else was there. Then, he took out the bundles of explosives from his small bag. The quantity wasn't large, but it was enough to cause terrible destruction and chaos. He quickly and skillfully divided the explosives into three portions and secured them with thin wire.

He placed the first copy above the doorway between the kitchen and living room, hidden in the shadows of the soot-stained corner. He pulled the fuse, concealing it in the gap of the doorway.

For the second one, he tiptoed to the bathroom door. The door was ajar, and no one was inside. He secured the explosives to the vent in the bathroom ceiling, with the fuse hanging down the corner of the wall, hidden behind a mop.

The third and largest one, he arrived at the bedroom door. Snoring came from inside; at least two people were there. The door was closed. Chen Feng didn't open the door, but carefully secured the explosives to the crack directly below the bedroom door, inserting a small section of the fuse through the gap at the bottom of the door and placing it inconspicuously on the floor inside the doorway.

The three detonation points, arranged in a triangle, almost covered the core area of ​​this two-bedroom unit. The fuses were all connected together, eventually converging at the kitchen window—his designated evacuation point.

After setting up the explosives, Chen Feng's forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat. It wasn't from exhaustion, but from the strain of high tension and precise operation. He checked all the connections one last time to make sure everything was correct.

Just then, a man's voice rang out from the living room: "I'm going to the bathroom."

The footsteps were heading towards the bathroom!

Chen Feng's pupils contracted, his body tensed instantly, and he darted into the shadows of the innermost corner of the kitchen, placing his hand on the gun handle behind his waist.

The bathroom light came on, and the door opened. A middle-aged man mumbled as he walked in, and soon the sound of running water could be heard. He clearly didn't notice the thin thread hidden behind the mop.

Chen Feng held his breath and remained motionless.

A few dozen seconds later, the man finished, turned off the light, walked out, and went back to the living room.

Chen Feng slowly released his grip on the gun and let out a soft breath. That was close.

There was no time to lose. He quickly went to the kitchen window, put the ends of the three fuses together, moistened them with a small piece of grease he found by the stove, and then took out the matches.

It was lit.

An orange flame flickered in the darkness, illuminating the cold half of his face behind his sunglasses. He brought the match close to the oil-soaked fuse.

"laugh--"

A faint but clear burning sound rang out, and sparks spread rapidly forward along the fuse, disappearing into the dark corner of the wall, splitting into three streams that shot off in three different directions!

Chen Feng calculated that the burning speed of this fuse would give him about two and a half to three minutes to evacuate.

Without further hesitation, he flipped over and jumped out of the kitchen window, grabbed the drainpipe, and quickly slid down to the ground. After landing, he didn't leave immediately, but quickly ran to the front of the building and retrieved the Type 56 submachine gun and two drum magazines from the cellar where he had hidden them.

Loading, chambering. The cold metallic touch carried a heavy killing intent.

He stood firmly in the shadows outside the entrance to Unit 2 of Building 3, gun in hand, like a guardian deity. The muzzle of the gun was slightly lowered, aimed at the only exit. His eyes behind sunglasses coldly stared at that door, that door that was about to be forced open by death and flames.

Upstairs, room 302.

In the living room, Zhao Jianjun and his younger brother Zhao Jianye were still quietly discussing the details of tomorrow's intelligence gathering. In the bedroom, Wang Qiang and another cousin from the Zhao family were fast asleep. In the bathroom, the steam from the toilet, left by a man who had just used it, had not yet dissipated.

No one noticed that the fuse of death was hissing and slowly approaching, inch by inch, in the shadows of the walls, in the corners of the ceiling, and in the cracks under the doors.

Time, one second, two seconds, three seconds...

Chen Feng counted silently in his mind.

Upstairs, Zhao Jianjun seemed to hear a very faint hissing sound, like a gas leak. He frowned, stopped talking, and listened intently: "What's that sound?"

Zhao Jianye heard it too, and looked towards the kitchen in confusion: "It seems so..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

boom!!!!!!!!!

The first explosion rang out above the kitchen door frame! Flames and blasts instantly pierced through the thin kitchen door panel, and the scorching air mixed with wood chips and cement chunks, like a violent metal storm, swept across the entire living room!

Before Zhao Jianjun and Zhao Jianye could even scream, they were thrown back by the huge shockwave and slammed hard against the wall behind them. The sound of their bones shattering could be clearly heard before they were engulfed by flames and thick smoke!

Immediately afterwards—

boom!!!!

The explosion in the bathroom followed immediately! An even more intense fireball expanded from the confined space, shattering the toilet and sink, scattering tiles and pipe fragments everywhere, turning the bathroom into a burning inferno. Flames instantly shot out, igniting the clutter and walls near the door!

Chen Feng, downstairs, felt the entire building shake, and dust fell from above the doorway. He gripped his submachine gun tightly, his finger on the trigger guard, his body leaning slightly forward like a cheetah poised to pounce.

The apartment building erupted in chaos! Screams, cries, the sound of shattering glass, and the crashing of heavy objects mingled together! Other residents were awakened by the sudden and violent explosion, and in a state of panic, some began to run downstairs!

But Chen Feng wasn't waiting for them.

His target is 302.

Less than three seconds after the second explosion—

Boom!

The third, most muffled and violent explosion came from the direction of bedroom 302! It was the largest amount of explosives detonated in the confined space! The entire floor shook violently, and the window of bedroom 302, along with its frame, was blown out. Glass shards and burning debris shot into the night sky like fireworks, and raging flames burst from the window, illuminating half of the building!

The door to room 302 was blasted open by the immense internal pressure, causing the door frame and part of the wall to collapse with a roar! Blazing flames and thick smoke poured out of every opening in the room like a flood bursting its banks!

It became.

Chen Feng's eyes remained unmoved. The deafening explosion and the towering flames reflected on his sunglasses like two eerie, blooming flowers of death.

The stairwell echoed with frantic, heart-wrenching screams and the sound of running! And it wasn't just one! Someone had broken free from the inferno!

Wang Qiang was the first to rush out! He was engulfed in flames, his hair and clothes were on fire, and his face and hands were torn and bleeding. He let out inhuman screams as he stumbled out of the building entrance, like a human torch!

Immediately afterward, another figure staggered out, it was Zhao's cousin, also covered in flames, screaming as he collapsed to the ground, frantically rolling around trying to put out the fire.

Behind them, room 302 was engulfed in flames; nothing intact could be seen, only crimson flames licking at everything, and thick smoke billowing out. Zhao Jianjun, Zhao Jianye, and anyone else who might have been inside had no chance of survival.

Wang Qiang rushed out of the building and saw a person standing outside. Thinking it was a neighbor who had come to put out the fire or someone who had heard the commotion and rushed over, he stretched out his hand and cried out hoarsely, "Help...help me! Help..."

His voice abruptly stopped.

Because he saw that person clearly.

A black leather jacket, cold sunglasses, and... that dark, chilling muzzle of a gun aimed at him.

Wang Qiang's pupils dilated to their limit instantly, the intense pain from the burning seemed to be suppressed by the extreme fear. He recognized him; even though the other person was wearing sunglasses, even against the backdrop of such hellish firelight, he would never forget that cold, deathly aura—he had felt a similar gaze from the depths of darkness at his sister Wang Yulan's funeral, outside his brother-in-law Zhao Jianguo's mourning hall.

"It's...it's you..." Wang Qiang's voice was distorted and filled with despair.

Chen Feng did not answer. His finger pulled the trigger.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

The Type 56 assault rifle spat out blazing flames! The deafening bursts of fire instantly drowned out the roar of the flames and the distant screams! The dense rain of bullets, like the scythe of death, instantly enveloped Wang Qiang and the Zhao family cousin who was still rolling on the ground!

The bullets tore through burning flesh and shattered bones, sending up plumes of blood and bits of flesh! Wang Qiang's body trembled violently as if struck repeatedly by an invisible hammer, then he was thrown backward and crashed heavily into the burning entrance of the building. The blood was quickly evaporated by the intense heat, leaving charred marks. The other person's scream also abruptly ceased, leaving behind two mangled, still-burning remains.

The gunfire ceased, leaving only the crisp sound of spent cartridges clattering to the ground, mingled with the crackling of flames.

Chen Feng held the gun, wisps of smoke rising from its muzzle. His gaze, hidden behind sunglasses, coldly swept over the corpses on the ground, confirming no one had escaped, before he looked up at the third-floor window that was spewing flames.

The Zhao family is finished.

The key figures are probably all in this fire. Even if there are any surviving members of the collateral branches, after tonight, they would never dare to show their faces again, let alone continue offering rewards to find them.

The flames grew stronger and stronger, spreading to the floors above and below. The entire building was in chaos, filled with terrified screams, cries for help, the sounds of splashing water, and running. In the distance, the piercing sirens of fire trucks and police cars could be faintly heard, rapidly approaching.

Chen Feng didn't linger. He quickly unloaded the empty drum magazine, replaced it with a full one, then slung the submachine gun back over his shoulder, turned around, and strode into the deeper shadows behind the building. In a few flashes, he completely disappeared into the chaotic night and the ever-approaching sirens.

He walked quickly, but steadily. His leather boots pounded the cold ground without a trace of panic.

Behind them, flames soared into the sky, sirens blared, and the embers of the Zhao family's destruction lingered.

Ahead lay the deep darkness of night, the ongoing cleanup, and the ultimate goal of getting my sister away safely.

Not a single one can be left alive.

The Zhao family is just one of the earlier groups on the list.

The game continues.

The positions of hunter and prey have never been so clear.

Chen Feng's figure completely disappeared into the darkness, as if he had never existed. Only the submachine gun, which had just spewed out deathly flames, still retained its scorching heat on the barrel.