Only I Follow the Law: An Unorthodox Tokyo Cultivation Routine.

The two guards sensed something was wrong and stepped forward to block the entrance.

"Stop! Do you have an appointment?"

“Yes.” Takehiko Inoue stopped and said in a low voice, “I’m here to see Takashi Yamamoto.”

The two guards exchanged a glance.

Takashi Yamamoto was a regular here, and he was indeed in a private room tonight. One of the men looked Inoue Takehiko up and down, his gaze lingering on Inoue's hands hidden inside his coat, and he frowned.

"Wait, take your hand out. What are you hiding?"

Takehiko Inoue did not move.

"I said, take your hands out!" The security guard's voice became stern as he reached out to pull at his coat.

Takehiko Inoue raised his eyes suddenly.

In that instant, the gatekeeper was startled by his gaze, and then they saw the knife.

They're here to cause trouble!

They weren't exactly innocent either; in fact, everyone in this nightclub was far from law-abiding. As members of the underworld, they all had blood on their hands.

"You dare to cause trouble in Songchuan? Who are you trying to scare with a knife? If you know what's good for you, get lost!"

The two guards simultaneously drew their daggers from their waists, the blades flashing coldly under the neon lights.

Takehiko Inoue stared intently at the two of them.

Now, anyone who stands in his way of revenge will die, and anyone who dares to lay a hand on him is an evil person.

Han Chuanyou, who had followed, leaned against a telephone pole across the street, unscrewed the cap, slowly took a sip of juice, and calmly looked towards the entrance of the nightclub.

He had no intention of taking action.

There were two choices, and Takehiko Inoue himself chose the first one.

Let him see what kind of effect an ordinary person can have after taking the Qi Gathering Pill.

Inoue Takehiko let out a low growl and charged out like a cannonball.

His speed far exceeded what ordinary people could imagine; he arrived in front of the first gatekeeper in the blink of an eye.

The guard's pupils constricted, and he hastily thrust out his dagger.

But... it's too slow.

Takehiko Inoue turned to the side, the blade grazing his ribs, tearing through his coat and a layer of flesh, causing blood to seep out.

But he seemed to feel no pain. His left hand gripped the guard's wrist, which was holding the knife, like an iron clamp, and twisted it sharply.

"Click"

The sound of bones cracking was clearly audible. The guard's wrist bent at a 180-degree angle, the dagger slipped from his hand and fell to the ground. Before he could even scream, Inoue Takehiko's right hand had already plunged the knife into his abdomen.

The entire knife was submerged, with the tip protruding from his back, bringing with it a puff of warm blood mist.

The gatekeeper's eyes widened, his mouth opened and closed, but he could only make hoarse sounds. Inoue Takehiko drew his sword expressionlessly, and blood gushed out like a spring, spraying down the blade onto his face and body.

Warm, sweet and fishy...

"what!"

The screams of passersby were incessant.

However, not many people left. Instead, the sight of blood stirred a morbid excitement and impulse within them, and they all took out their phones to record the scene.

The stench of blood made Inoue Takehiko's heart pound like a drum, and his momentum grew even stronger.

The other guard was terrified, but the gangster's ferocity prevented him from turning and running away. Instead, with bloodshot eyes, he stabbed Inoue Takehiko in the lower back.

Takehiko Inoue caught the dagger that was thrust at him with a backhand. The blade cut his palm, and blood dripped through his fingers, but he was oblivious. He tightened his grip and snatched the blade from the guard's hand, then casually tossed it to the ground.

The gatekeeper looked at his empty hands and finally felt fear.

He tried to run, but Takehiko Inoue didn't give him a chance. He grabbed his shoulder and plunged the dagger into his neck.

With the sound of flesh and bone being torn apart, blood splattered everywhere, leaving mottled blood flowers on the porch.

He let go, and the security guard collapsed to the ground, clutching his neck.

Takehiko Inoue was breathing heavily, looking down at his own body.

Covered in blood, some of his own, but mostly of others', he looked down at the two trembling bodies that were constantly losing blood. There was no fear in his eyes, only a kind of almost insane pleasure.

"Yamamoto Takashi..."

He murmured the name, stepped over the pool of blood on the ground, and walked deeper into the nightclub.

Chapter 7 Bloodshed in Five Steps

"Someone has died! There's trouble here!"

The corridor was in chaos, and the other henchmen who were stationed there cursed and picked up their weapons as they left the room.

But when they saw the figure covered in blood, they all stopped in their tracks.

Inoue Takehiko stood in the middle of the corridor, the knife in his hand still dripping blood from its tip, but his eyes were terrifyingly calm.

A gang leader shouted, "With so many of us armed, are we afraid of just one guy? Let's all attack!"

The others also felt ashamed that after so many years of dominating the underworld, they had been intimidated by one person. They shouted and rushed forward, throwing steel pipes and knives at him.

Inoue Takehiko charged forward like a wolf among sheep, crashing into the crowd with slashes, punches, and kicks.

Every strike was ruthless and all-consuming. Apart from occasionally dodging attacks on vital parts, there was almost no strategy or technique involved. It was a fight where life was the only option.

His body was slashed open in several places, and blood flowed freely. The power of the Qi Gathering Pill burned within him, making him feel no pain at all, leaving only a violent power and an obsession with revenge.

Screams, the sound of blood splattering, and the sound of bones breaking mingled together, and the corridor walls were splattered with scarlet spots.

"A madman! This guy is a madman!"

"Ah! My arm!"

In less than two minutes, four or five people were lying on the ground, some clutching their severed arms and howling in pain, some convulsing with their bleeding wounds, and others completely motionless.

The remaining henchmen, terrified, threw down their weapons and ran away.

This guy is a monster. How much does he earn in a month? Why risk your life against him?

No one stopped him anymore.

Ignoring everyone else, Takehiko Inoue continued walking towards the private room, step by step.

"Boss, someone's causing trouble!"

A relatively loyal henchman opened the door to the private room and reported inside.

Ono Jiro stood up:

"What's all the noise about? How many people are here?"

He thought it was other gangs causing trouble.

"One."

"What's the rush? You're useless!"

Ono Jiro got up, cursing.

Before the underling at the door could explain, he screamed and was kicked away, crashing onto the coffee table in the private room, shattering the glass and leaving his fate unknown.

A man covered in blood stepped across the threshold and walked in, his eyes eerily calm, like a demon crawling out of hell.

The hostesses in the private room were so frightened by this sudden scene that they screamed repeatedly and hurriedly huddled in a corner against the wall.

Jiro Ono had been in the underworld for twenty years, killing people and being killed himself, but he had never seen a look like that before.

"Who...who are you?"

He instinctively took a half step back and reached for the dagger at his waist.

Takehiko Inoue did not look at him.

His gaze passed over Ono Jiro and fixed on the refined-looking man on the sofa.

"Yamamoto Takashi, didn't you come to collect a debt?" Inoue Takehiko's voice was hoarse and deep. "I've come to settle the score with you."

Yamamoto Takashi recognized Inoue Takehiko as soon as he entered. At this moment, his blood-soaked appearance made him look like a deadly messenger.

How could this be!?

He was terrified.

Is this still the same refined and gentle Inoue Takehiko? The good-for-nothing he once mocked has now barged in all by himself.

He forced himself to suppress his fear: "Let's talk things out. There's no need to escalate this."

Ono Jiro drew his dagger, his expression fierce: "I don't care who you are, this is Matsukawa-kai territory. Do you know the consequences of causing trouble here?"

Inoue Takehiko finally turned his head and glanced at him:

"You want to stop me too?"

Ono Jiro felt a chill run down his spine, but he was now in a bind. He gritted his teeth, gripped his dagger, and charged toward Inoue Takehiko.

To rise to such a high position, he must have had several lives on his hands; he wasn't easily intimidated.

Takehiko Inoue raised his hand and grabbed his wrist.

"So fast!"

Ono Jiro's pupils contracted slightly.

Then, a "click" sound.

His wrist was twisted off, and the dagger fell to the ground with a clatter.

"what!!"

He screamed, but before he could retreat, Inoue Takehiko's other hand had already grabbed his neck.

"You... let go... uh..."

Ono Jiro's face turned a deep purplish-red, and his feet gradually lifted off the ground. He tried to struggle and throw a punch, but his hand seemed to be made of iron and remained motionless.

He was scared and wanted to negotiate with the man in front of him, but he was choked and couldn't say a word.

Takehiko Inoue tightened his fingers expressionlessly.

"Click."

The cracking sound of his Adam's apple breaking was exceptionally clear in the quiet private room.

Ono Jiro's eyes widened, his limbs twitched a few times, and then he remained completely still.

Takehiko Inoue released his grip, letting the body slide to the ground.

He turned around and walked towards Takashi Yamamoto.

At this moment, he was shrouded in the shadow of death, his body trembling like a leaf. His previous smug expression had vanished, replaced by extreme fear. He slumped on the sofa, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

At that moment, under the pressure of death, he regretted it.

"No...don't come any closer...we can talk..."

"Is there any point in talking anymore? You forced this into this situation."

Takashi Yamamoto rolled off the sofa, knelt on the floor, and kowtowed desperately, his forehead hitting the carpet with a thud.

"Inoue-kun! I was wrong! I was really wrong! I'll give you back the money! I'll give you back the house! I'll give you anything you want, please let me go..."

His glasses were askew, his pants were soaked, and his face was covered in tears and snot.

"That woman seduced me! It's all her fault! She offered herself to me, I was just playing around! It was all her idea, please let me go this time. By the way, you killed so many people, you need to get away with it, right? I can help you..."

Takehiko Inoue stopped in front of him and looked down at the maggot wagging its tail and begging for mercy.

This is the person who ruined his family, killed his mother, and pushed him into an abyss.

Now, however, they kneel at my feet like a dog.

So disgusting.

Takehiko Inoue bent down and lifted him up like a chick.

"What...what do you want to do!?"