Peninsula: I can steal the luck of disgraced celebrities

Chapter 114 "Martial Arts" Master

The filming went smoothly for the first few days, until the sixth day.

The thugs are here again.

Several thugs with brightly colored hair sat smoking on the film crew's trailer, with overturned lighting boards and torn call sheets scattered around them.

Hwang Dong-hyuk was so angry that he was trembling all over, his hands clenched into fists.

Gong Yoo walked over with his phone in hand and lowered his voice: "I've reported it. They said they'll be there soon."

Ten minutes later, a police car slowly pulled up to the side of the road.

Two policemen got out, without even taking their notebooks, and slowly walked up to the gang leader.

The leader, with his dyed yellow hair, greeted the policeman with a grin and even took out a cigarette from his pocket and handed it to him. The two of them then stood next to the police car and started smoking.

Huang Donghe strode over and pointed to the mess on the ground: "Officer! Look at this scene! They smashed our equipment and blocked the road, preventing us from getting in or out. Doesn't this count as disturbing the peace?"

The older policeman exhaled a smoke ring and slowly said, "Director Huang, you can't say that."

"They are also local residents. They just complained to me that your film crew finishes work too late at night and the noise is too loud, affecting their rest."

"Let's all be more understanding of each other."

Hwang Donghyuk raised his voice: "Disrupt their rest? They come here in broad daylight to cause trouble, and that's what you call disrupting their rest?"

The younger policeman waved his hand impatiently: "Don't talk nonsense without evidence. Who saw them smash it? It might have been blown down by the wind."

"We also need to patrol other areas. You guys should negotiate and resolve this yourselves. Don't keep wasting police resources."

After saying that, the two policemen got into their car and drove off in a flash.

As soon as the police car left, the thugs were completely unrestrained.

The blond-haired leader walked up to an Arri camera and kicked the tripod.

The machine shook violently, startling photographer Jin Zhilong, who quickly rushed over to protect the lens.

"Nobody's getting any pictures today!" the blond-haired man yelled, pulling a gleaming steel pipe from the bread truck and weighing it in his hand.

"The investors gave us a lot of money, right? We're a bit short on cash lately, so we need to squeeze some out, otherwise this machine will be scrap metal tomorrow!"

The crew members all backed away, and the atmosphere became extremely tense.

Lin Chih-hsun sat on a folding chair at the back, holding a freshly brewed cup of barley tea, the thermos steaming.

He sighed and placed the thermos on the prop box next to him.

"I'll go take care of it." Lin Zhixun stood up.

Gong Yoo grabbed his arm, his face full of anxiety: "Ji-hoon, are you crazy? There are more than a dozen of them, and they have iron pipes and baseball bats!"

"You're an actor, you make a living with your looks, what if you get injured?"

Hwang Dong-hyuk quickly ran over to block them, saying, "Ji-hoon, don't be impulsive! At worst, we'll stop work today. I'll increase security in a couple of days. Just don't go over there; these guys are really capable of killing!"

Lim Ji-hoon patted Gong Yoo's hand, signaling him to let go.

He pointed to the thermos on the cardboard box, his tone relaxed and even somewhat casual: "Watch this cup of tea for me for three minutes. Make sure the water is still warm when I come back."

Gong Yoo stood there, stunned.

What era are we living in? Why are we still playing the Guan Yu story of warming wine before beheading Hua Xiong?

Before anyone could react, Lin Zhixun had already pushed through the crowd and walked straight out.

Huang Mao chuckled as he watched Lin Zhixun approach.

He tapped the steel pipe against his palm, looking the extremely handsome man up and down.

"Oh, you pretty boy trying to make it big? You think this is some kind of idol drama?"

Lin Zhixun stopped two steps away from Huang Mao, put his hands in his pockets, and shook his head.

"Did you guys not eat enough before you left home?"

Lin Zhixun looked at the blond-haired man, his tone full of mockery, "You don't even have the strength to smash a board? Do you want me to lend you some money so you can go get a good meal before causing trouble again?"

The blond-haired man flew into a rage.

No one in this area dared to speak to him like that.

"Damn it! You're asking for it!"

The blond-haired man gripped the steel pipe tightly with both hands, raised it high, and slammed it down hard on Lin Zhixun's head.

On the set, Jung Yu-mi closed her eyes in fright, and Gong Yoo shouted "Watch out!" and rushed over.

Lin Chih-hsun stood there, not even taking his hands out of his pockets.

With a thought, he brought up the system panel.

[System, activate enhanced luck.]

[System, use Fortune Stealing.]

The steel pipes whistled down with the sound of wind.

Just a dozen centimeters away from Lin Zhixun's head, the blond-haired man suddenly stepped on something.

It might be a smooth pebble, or it might be a piece of discarded plastic pipe.

Suddenly, the blond-haired man stumbled, completely losing his balance, and fell forward uncontrollably.

Lin Zhixun casually raised his right hand, the back of his hand just hovering in mid-air.

A muffled "bang" was heard.

The blond-haired man's face slammed straight into the back of Lin Zhixun's hand.

The bridge of his nose collapsed instantly, and blood gushed from his nose.

Without uttering a sound, he fell backward onto the ground, the steel pipe in his hand clattering to the side.

The entire room fell silent.

Everyone was stunned.

What is this? Taking someone's punch in the face?

A burly, fat thug saw his boss fall to the ground, roared, and charged over, brandishing a baseball bat.

Lin Chih-hsun simply moved half a step to the side and casually extended his right foot.

The fat man missed a step, and his right leg twisted strangely.

A crisp "crack" sounded particularly clear in the open space.

The fat man threw down his baseball bat, clutched his calf, and rolled wildly on the ground, letting out a bloodcurdling scream: "Ouch! My Achilles tendon! It's cramped! It's snapped!"

The remaining dozen or so thugs panicked, exchanged glances, and swarmed forward.

Lin Zhixun put his hands back into his pockets.

He strolled leisurely through the crowd, occasionally tilting his head or turning his body slightly.

As thug A threw a punch, Lin Zhixun tilted his head, and the punch landed squarely on thug B's eye socket.

Thug B screamed and crouched down, covering his eyes.

Thug C lifted the iron pipe, but used too much force, and his hand slipped, causing the pipe to fly out of his hand and hit thug D squarely on the back of the head.

Thug D rolled his eyes and fainted instantly.

Thug E tried to sneak up on Lin Chih-hsun from behind, but tripped over his own feet and ended up doing a perfect split right behind him.

The sound of ripped pants, accompanied by a pig-like scream, rose into the sky.

Less than two minutes.

A group of people were lying on the ground.

A dozen or so people lay sprawled in the mud, clutching their noses, legs, and groins, their cries of pain echoing through the air.

Lin Zhixun stood among a group of wounded soldiers and looked down at his white shoes.

There was a little dust on the shoe surface.

He rubbed the soles of his shoes on the nearby grass shelf, then turned around and slowly walked back to the rest area.

The crew remained completely silent.

Hwang Dong-hyuk's black-rimmed glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he even forgot to reach out and push them up.

Gong Yoo opened his mouth wide, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but no sound came out.

Even the usually taciturn photographer, Jin Zhilong, was staring intently at Lin Zhixun, as if he had seen a ghost.

This is hardly a fight.

This is practically a group of thugs staging an accident to extort money!

Or perhaps it's some kind of bizarre collective possession!

Lin Zhixun walked to the cardboard box, picked up the thermos, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip.

He turned to look at Gong Yoo, who was still frozen in shock, and nodded.

"Hmm, the temperature is just right. I've been telling you for three minutes, haven't I?

Gong Yoo swallowed hard, pointed at the horde of thugs groaning on the ground behind him, and stammered, "Ji-hoon—"

"You...you know martial arts?"

"No way." Lin Zhixun put the lid on the cup. "Maybe they've done too many bad things and are being punished by heaven. Look, I didn't even move my hand much."

Huang Donghe then came to his senses and quickly ran over to check the equipment. After confirming that the machine was not broken, he breathed a long sigh of relief.

But then he tensed up again: "Zhixun, you beat them up like this, what if the police come back—"

Before he could finish speaking, a piercing siren blared as it approached from afar.

The police car that had just driven away actually came back.

Two policemen opened the car door, still holding half-smoked cigarettes in their hands.

When they saw the thugs rolling on the ground and the blond-haired man with a bloodied face, they dropped their cigarettes.

The older policeman abruptly drew his baton from his waist, pointed it at Lin Zhixun, and said in a trembling voice, "You—you dared to engage in a gang fight! And you even dared to seriously injure a local resident! Come with me to the police station!"

The young police officer quickly took out his walkie-talkie to call for backup.

The hearts of everyone on the crew jumped into their throats.

This is a huge problem. In South Korea, a film crew member being suspected of violence and assault is a scandal that could ruin the entire movie.

Lin Chih-hsun, however, remained completely unfazed.

He put down his thermos and pointed to a utility pole not far above his head.

"Officer, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want." Lin Zhixun said calmly, "The crew just installed a high-definition camera on that utility pole yesterday to prevent theft. The camera clearly recorded how they fell down and how they fought each other."

He paused for a moment, looking at the two policemen whose faces had turned deathly pale.

"By the way, the surveillance footage should also have captured how the two police officers were befriending and chatting with this group of troublemakers ten minutes ago."

Lin Zhixun took a step forward and lowered his voice.

"Should I send this video, along with information about today's events, to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency's Inspectorate?"

If the police were to check the surveillance footage at this point, they would find that the cameras were not turned on.

But at this time, Lin Zhixun was still using "Strong Luck," so things would naturally develop in a direction that was favorable to him.

The two policemen already felt guilty, so they dared not investigate further.

So he slunk away with the group of villagers who had been "fighting".