Chapter 116: Dragon Four

Page 1/3

Ji Xingyu felt that Long Er’s tone was a bit too arrogant. Yet, beneath that arrogance was a familiarity, as if he had seen such arrogance before in someone else.

“Anyway, you’d better listen to him,” Mo Fei said, placing a hand on Ji Xingyu’s shoulder. “Cute little guys like you crossing the line will be torn to pieces in no time.”

“The people from the Mian tribe don’t have any good virtues,” he added.

Ji Xingyu thought for a moment and nodded. “You’re right.”

No matter what, one must stay within their limits. Laws protect you at home, but once abroad, it’s a different story.

Seeing that Ji Xingyu understood, Long Er nodded. It was good to have someone who took advice and understood reason.

“Even if we go, we need to gather the right team first,” Ji Xingyu added.

Long Er: … Although, that’s not wrong.

“Anyway, don’t linger here,” Long Er warned them one last time, beckoning Mo Fei. “Let’s go.”

Mo Fei patted Ji Xingyu on the shoulder. “When you prepare the weapons, stock up on some white phosphorus powder. I’ll help you process it for free.”

Ji Xingyu nodded in agreement. “Alright.”

Mo Fei grinned and followed Long Er’s footsteps.

When Ma He and Zhong Yan saw them leave, they approached Ji Xingyu and asked, “What do we do next?”

“We fight only when we’re prepared,” Ji Xingyu said with determination. “Let’s find people and equipment, get fully ready before we strike.”

Ma He and Zhong Yan exchanged glances and said in unison, “Makes sense.”

Those people might not recognize laws or regulations, but they certainly recognize gunpowder and cannons. In places like this, firearms and ammunition are more reliable than any charm.

Mo Fei followed behind Long Er, hands in pockets, walking casually.

“Long Er—”

“Long Er—”

“Long Er—”

Long Er couldn’t take it anymore and shot him a cold glare. “What exactly do you want?”

“I’m not giving you the white phosphorus bombs.”

If Mo Fei had looked more reliable before, Long Er now felt he was someone who’d recklessly throw explosives at the slightest displeasure.

“So stingy,” Mo Fei kicked a pebble. “If you won’t give this or that, at least give me something for self-defense.”

Page 2/3

Long Er ignored him.

He wasn’t sure if all actors behaved this way, but Mo Fei’s behavior made Long Er think he might need to see a psychiatrist after this. Maybe even had a split personality.

“Before we set off, come with me to pick someone up.”

Mo Fei smiled mischievously. “Who? Another humanoid weapon like you?”

Long Er looked at him without speaking for a long moment.

No need for such a drastic change.

In this state, even he and his sister might not be able to hold Mo Fei back in the Mian tribe.

Meanwhile, a young, sharp-looking woman with short hair stood by the roadside, holding a travel bag and sending messages.

Several people nearby exchanged glances, then two or three rushed over to pull her away.

One cursed, “Stubborn girl, learning to run away from home like others! Come with me now!”

Others grabbed her hands to prevent her resistance and scolded the onlookers, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you seen a runaway girl before?!”

The woman frowned and swiftly kicked one man in the groin without mercy.

She kicked hard enough to dent and hurt him.

His face immediately went pale, eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.

She freed one hand, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a brass knuckle.

Turning around, she punched another man squarely in the face without hesitation, knocking him down for good.

At this point, the others realized she was no ordinary troublemaker.

Not even most police officers could deliver such precise, deadly blows.

A kick to the groin could kill; a brass knuckle punch to the face as well.

She clearly didn’t care about killing anyone.

In fact, she seemed intent on keeping everyone there.

When she pulled out another brass knuckle and looked at them coldly, the traffickers panicked.

Dragging their two fallen comrades, they fled wildly, but the woman hit several of them on the way out.

Each strike accompanied by crisp sounds of bones breaking.

This was no longer self-defense but intentional harm.

She didn’t care, stomping and breaking one man’s shin bone, stepping on the injured leg as she watched the others.

The sound of police sirens grew closer. The traffickers dared not stay and fled quickly.

Before the officers got out of their car, the woman removed the brass knuckles and tossed them beside one of the traffickers lying on the ground, casually adjusting her clothes and standing her ground as the officers approached.

“What’s going on here?” the senior officer asked, observing the scene. Even with his experience, he couldn’t figure out the full story.

The woman showed no expression and said flatly, “He hit me.”

Page 3/3

The officers looked between the woman, who was unharmed except for some disheveled clothes, and the middle-aged man on the ground with a clearly dislocated leg, unsure how to respond.

“Luckily, some good Samaritans helped subdue him,” the woman said, glancing around. “Those good Samaritans did their good deed anonymously and left.”

The officers exchanged looks.

Did they look like fools?

Regardless, this was a violent fight between two parties; both were taken in—one to the police station, the other to the hospital.

The officers asked the woman to contact her family.

When Long Er received the call, he was unsurprised. After confirming the address, he hurried there with Mo Fei.

“Name?”

“Long Si.”

“Age?”

“27.”

“Place of origin?”

“Bauhinia.”

The communication between the officer and Long Si went smoothly; she answered all questions promptly.

Apart from her cold, expressionless demeanor that made her seem almost expressionless, her attitude was very proper.

“We also received news from the hospital. The man claimed he mistook her for someone else and wanted to beat her up but was instead beaten up by good Samaritans.”

The officer placed the record on the table. “Matches what she said.”

Long Si tilted her head. “So can I leave now? My brother’s waiting for me.”

“Wait for your brother to arrive first,” the officer said with little patience.

The scene was clear to see: she was the one who hit the man. But now, neither the victim nor the aggressor admitted anything. There was no way to investigate further.

Long Si stayed calm.

Everyone knew which charge—human trafficking or fighting—would lead to a longer sentence.

Her words were not for the officers but for the traffickers on the ground.

If the trafficker’s mind worked right, he wouldn’t admit to being a trafficker caught and beaten.

Without his confession, the police couldn’t charge her with intentional injury.

It suited both sides perfectly.