After my divorce at thirty, I developed an intelligence network.

Gong Yuelong stood three steps away from the table.

Gong Yuelong spoke up, "Discuss?"

"It needs to be discussed."

Liu Heita tossed aside the lamb skewers, wiped his greasy hands on his pants, and sat down with his head held high.

"You're smart to do this! You should have done it sooner."

Old Niu's incident was a lesson learned, given his lack of manners. But for the Gold Coast and the sports center area...

His words came to an abrupt end.

Because Gong Yuelong made a move.

The movements were so fast it was dazzling.

He precisely grabbed Liu Heita's right wrist.

Twist it, press it down.

"Snap!"

Everyone at the table could hear it clearly; the crisp sound of bones cracking was enough to make their teeth ache.

Liu Heita's face contorted instantly, and his mouth gaped open.

Just as a scream was about to escape his throat, Gong Yuelong's left fist slammed into his cheek.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Liu Heita fell backward, chair and all, crashing into the plastic table behind him, shattering cups and plates all over the floor.

He was curled up on the ground, his right arm bent at an odd angle. He spat out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth, unable to even let out a proper scream.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye.

The smile on Zhao Si's face froze completely, turning into astonishment. He suddenly tried to stand up.

But Gong Yuelong had already turned to him.

Zhao Siyan reacted quickly, reaching out to grab the beer bottle on the table.

But he was fast, and Gong Yuelong was even faster.

He kicked the plastic stool leg under Zhao Siyan.

The stool leg snapped off with a crack.

Caught off guard, Zhao Si's body swayed, and his hand grasping the wine bottle slipped from his grasp.

Gong Yuelong's foot had already landed, not on him, but heavily on his left shinbone.

"ah--!"

This time, it was Zhao Siyan who let out the scream.

He felt as if his shinbone had been struck hard by an iron rod, and he instantly lost his balance.

He fell to the ground, clutching his left leg and rolling around in pain, his gold-rimmed glasses flying off.

The other thugs at the table then realized what was happening; some grabbed chairs, while others touched their lower backs.

Before they could pounce, Gong Yuelong's icy gaze swept over them.

There was no rage, no madness in that gaze, only a chilling calm.

"Who moved?"

"The next thing to be severed won't just be the hands and feet."

The thugs looked at Liu Heita and Zhao Siyan, who were writhing and screaming on the ground, their weapons raised, but none of them dared to make a move.

This corner of the night market suddenly became much quieter, and the noise in the distance seemed exceptionally distant.

Many diners stopped eating, looking over with surprise and uncertainty, but dared not approach.

Old Niu watched in disbelief, his palms sweating profusely.

Widow Qin covered her mouth, while Old Yu subconsciously clenched his fists.

Gong Yuelong then slowly bent down, picked up Zhao Siyan's gold-rimmed glasses, weighed them in his hand, and then walked to Zhao Siyan and squatted down.

Zhao Si's face turned deathly pale from the pain in his eyes, and his gaze was unfocused and filled with terror.

"Boss Zhao," Gong Yuelong placed his broken glasses on the ground in front of him.

"Can we talk this over now?"

Zhao Si's teeth chattered as he looked at Gong Yuelong, feeling a deep sense of fear.

This wasn't a rash act of youthful impulsiveness; it was a well-prepared, ruthless, and precise move that left no room for retreat.

"What...what do you want?" Zhao Siyan squeezed out the words through clenched teeth.

Gong Yuelong held up three fingers. "Three. First, from now on, within the territory of Zicheng, don't let me see you. Even if I see you once..."

He glanced at Liu Heita, who was still groaning, and said, "Just once."

"Secondly, for the damages to Lao Niu, including the beating he suffered, the damage to his car, lost wages, medical expenses, and compensation for emotional distress... we'll round down the difference and pay him 30,000."

"Thirty...thirty thousand?!" Zhao Si almost fainted from the pain again.

"Too much?" Gong Yuelong smiled. "Then forty thousand."

"No...no! Thirty thousand! Thirty thousand it is!" Zhao Si hurriedly changed his mind.

"Turn now."

Gong Yuelong squatted down, took out his phone, pulled up the payment code, and handed it to Zhao Si.

Zhao Si's eyes trembled as he pulled out his phone.

He opened the bank's app, which required his fingerprint, and it took him two tries to succeed.

The interface redirects to display the balance.

The number was small, even meager, less than Gong Yuelong had expected.

The scattered decimals that followed conveyed a sense of financial strain and embarrassment.

A thug who had tried to grab a stool but hadn't dared to move earlier glanced at the numbers on the screen. His eyes held a mixture of disdain and a sense of desolation, like a rabbit mourning the death of another.

The bespectacled guy who usually acts all high and mighty and seems to be able to make a lot of money actually only has a few coins in his pocket.

How much can those who follow along and make a living actually earn?

Zhao Siyan saw the number himself, and a hint of embarrassment flashed across his face, but at this moment, saving his life was the priority, and he couldn't care less.

My fingers trembled as I typed in the amount, confirmed, and transferred the money.

Transfer successful.

The notification sound was faint, but exceptionally clear at the scene.

Gong Yuelong glanced at the payment notification on his phone and then put his phone away.

He stood up. "Thirdly, I'll cover the medical expenses we discussed this time."

As he spoke, he took out five thousand yuan from his pocket, walked over to Liu Heita who was still convulsing, looked at his twisted right hand and swollen cheek, and then looked at the calf that Zhao Siyan was holding.

Then, he gently tossed the wad of money onto Zhao Si's face.

The banknotes scattered, with a few landing on Zhao Si's blood-stained head and body.

Gong Yuelong said, "Take it to see a doctor. Remember to return it to me after you're cured."

After saying that, he stopped looking at the two people on the ground, turned around, and glanced at the few thugs who were still frozen in place.

The thugs instinctively took a half step back.

Gong Yuelong walked towards his car.

As he passed by Lao Niu, he patted his stiff shoulder and said, "Brother Niu, let's go. Go back to sleep."

Old Niu seemed to wake from a dream. Looking at the two people lying on the ground in a terrible state, and then at Gong Yuelong's calmly walking away, he swallowed hard but said nothing and quickly followed.

Widow Qin and Old Yu also silently turned and left.

The rumbling thunder grew closer.

The heavy rain finally started.

He slowly raised his arms.

In an instant, the torrential rain engulfed him.

The icy rain poured down on my face, running down my hair, cheeks, and neck, and soaking into my thin clothes.

It brings a real, cold touch.

Facing the rain, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

A feeling of exhilaration, welling up from the very bones, flowed through my limbs and body with the cool rain.

It wasn't joy, it wasn't excitement. It was—freedom.

It's not the freedom of breaking free from a cage, but... the freedom that I can finally face this messed-up world in my own way again.

It is through fists, calculations, and a ruthless, all-out effort that we reclaim even a tiny bit of breathing space and the freedom to move.

The idea that "blocking my path to wealth is like death" can be transformed from a frustrated thought into a tangible freedom that strikes right in the face of one's opponent.

He stood there, arms raised high, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

Zhao Siyan was still curled up on the rain-soaked ground, his broken glasses lying to the side, his vision blurred.

Liu Heita lay not far away, his groans drowned out by the downpour, like a discarded tattered sack.

Those thugs had long since disappeared.

Gong Yuelong lowered his arm, wiped the rain off his face, turned around, opened the car door, and got into the driver's seat.

He was soaking wet, his hair dripping.

"Let's go back. Change into some dry clothes."

The car started and sped into the vast rain.

Looking at Gong Yuelong's profile, Widow Qin suddenly felt that he had won back something... more important than money.