Chapter Thirty-One: Madness in the Snow

“Damn it, come out.” Qin Yang muttered under his breath.

Soon, two men in overcoats emerged, each holding a stick, their lips curled in mocking grins. “Kid, feeling cocky, huh? Someone paid us to teach you a lesson.”

“Get lost.” Qin Yang’s eyes turned cold as he snapped icily.

“Looking for trouble!”

The two men charged, swinging their sticks at his head. Qin Yang didn’t hesitate. With a swift kick, he sent the man on his left flying, and in the same instant, seized the other by the throat. All of it happened in a split second. Staring coldly at the man now sweating at the brow, Qin Yang asked, “Who sent you?”

“Guo—Guo Jintao,” the two cowards blurted out without hesitation.

“Scram.”

Not wanting to waste any more time, Qin Yang hurled the man aside. The pair scrambled away in terror. Only then did Qin Yang drive to the entrance of the shopping mall. Liu Molan glanced at her watch, remarking, “What took you so long?”

“Ran into a couple of rats,” Qin Yang shrugged.

Liu Molan rolled her eyes at his nonsense. After getting in, she closed her eyes to rest. Qin Yang drove with utmost caution, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, as if something significant was destined to happen tonight, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When they reached the ring road, he noticed two vans had been tailing them for a while.

“The road might be icy, don’t drive so fast,” Liu Molan cautioned, noticing the increasing speed.

Qin Yang didn’t reply, eyes fixed ahead. As Liu Molan was about to remind him again, she suddenly saw two vans blocking the road up ahead, completely sealing off the wide avenue. At the same time, the two vans behind boxed them in. The doors flew open, and seven or eight men jumped out. Counting those in the front, there were thirteen or fourteen in total.

This time, they weren’t wielding sticks but gleaming machetes.

“Can you drive?” Qin Yang’s voice was low and steady.

Seeing the scene, Liu Molan’s face paled, but she managed to stay composed. She shook her head. “No, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired a driver. Should we call the police?”

“It’s useless. The snow’s too heavy—by the time the police arrive, it’ll be too late. Stay in the car and don’t move. Unless I say so, don’t open the door for anyone.” Qin Yang got out and pulled the door shut behind him. Facing the burly group, he asked quietly, “Are you sure you’ve got the right person?”

“Kid, step aside. Our target is the woman in the car, not you. Hard to believe the daughter of the chairman of Tianfeng Group would be out without a bodyguard. Makes our job too easy,” the buzz-cut young man leading the group said with a mocking smile. “But that’s fine. The job will be done.”

Inside the car, Liu Molan shuddered in terror. These men were here to kidnap her?

Though usually as composed as ice, seeing the naked madness in their eyes made her tremble uncontrollably. In a panic, she fumbled for her phone to call the police, all the while glancing at Qin Yang, hoping this man she’d only just met wouldn’t abandon her.

Qin Yang rolled his neck and said, “She’s my boss.”

“Your boss?” The buzz-cut man burst out laughing. “You think you’re a bodyguard? Lao Liu, knock him out and toss him aside.”

“Got it.”

Lao Liu stood nearly six foot three, his muscles bulging beneath his clothes. Even in the dead of winter, he wore only a thin long-sleeved shirt and didn’t seem to feel the cold. Seeing his imposing air, Qin Yang didn’t dare let his guard down; this was no pushover like the two punks in the parking garage earlier. Lao Liu, mistaking Qin Yang’s stillness for fear, grinned savagely and threw a powerful hook at his face. At the last moment, Qin Yang stepped back, driving his knee toward Lao Liu’s abdomen.

Lao Liu’s eyes widened as he dropped his arm just in time to block the knee, simultaneously swinging his left fist, grazing Qin Yang’s cheek. With a guttural roar, Qin Yang slammed both palms into Lao Liu’s stomach—a move he’d secretly picked up from Han Dongxue that morning. Though he hadn’t mastered the technique, the raw force behind it was undeniable.

Smack, smack, smack.

Lao Liu staggered back a few steps, clutching his stomach, his eyes burning even more fiercely.

Qin Yang couldn’t help but be surprised. After the hellish training and the surge of power from the growing number of hell wraiths, his strength was formidable—yet this blow hadn’t even brought Lao Liu down.

Seeing the suit’s shoulder ripped open, Qin Yang spat, stripped off his jacket and shirt. Such clothes only hampered his movement.

“Not bad,” Lao Liu ground out, fighting the nausea in his gut.

But when he looked at Qin Yang, even his battle-hardened nerves were rattled.

A pair of jet-black eyes, glinting with cold light, and an eerie black mist seemed to swirl around his whole body, making him look more specter than man, so much so that even the heavy snow seemed to avoid him.

“Tough one. All together!” the buzz-cut man barked. “Huzi, come help me smash the car.”

The rest closed in, while the leader and another man, wielding clubs, headed for the car, making Liu Molan jump in fright. With a low growl, Qin Yang kicked the nearest attacker away, then began fending off the rest, keeping the fight close to the car to prevent anyone from smashing the windows.

“Damn it!”

Seeing the glass struck, Qin Yang was furious, fighting with no restraint, every punch and kick carrying immense force. However, with no formal training, he was caught off guard when two men seized him from behind, pinning his arms tight. The buzz-cut leader took the chance to land a flying kick squarely on his stomach.

Qin Yang howled in pain, mouth wide open.

Meanwhile, Huzi’s club slammed into the rear window. Thankfully, the glass held for now.

“Damn it, Butler, use all my soul points—I’m pissed off!” Qin Yang roared inwardly.

The butler didn’t hesitate. Now was not the time to worry about his pitifully low soul points; if the host of Hell and future Lord of Death was beaten down here, it’d be a disgrace. In an instant, a wild surge of strength coursed through Qin Yang’s body. He winced at the cost—these were pure soul points, and while the power was intoxicating, it meant he’d have to start over acquiring memories and skills from other souls.

But with this new strength, Qin Yang felt unstoppable. He swung his arms, hurling the two men clinging to him into the crowd, toppling three or four others in the process. Charging straight for Huzi, he dodged several blades with agility, seized Huzi by the hair, and said in a chilling voice, “Feeling cocky smashing things up?”

With that, he slammed Huzi’s head hard onto the trunk. German cars were sturdy, but even so, the trunk caved in, blood streaming down Huzi’s face.

“Damn it, nothing I hate more than vultures circling for scraps,” Qin Yang spat, slapping Huzi hard across the face before tossing his dazed attacker aside.