Chapter 79

Chapter Eighty: Overwhelming Momentum

The air was thick with overwhelming momentum!

Liu Zhaoyi, who was eating breakfast in a corner, was slightly surprised: Zhao Heng's strength exceeded his imagination. // Welcome to read //

The scar-faced man roared, "Kill him!"

Dozens of people howled and charged at Zhao Heng like wolves.

Zhao Heng stepped back and pressed against the wall, simultaneously turning his fists into knife-like strikes. The sudden ferocity and brutality, along with the desperate aura in his eyes, made the killers, who considered themselves death squads, feel a chill and hesitate in their steps.

Just this moment of hesitation gave Zhao Heng the chance to instantly rush into the crowd. His knife-like strikes slashed left and right like lightning, and the four people in front of him screamed in unison, spinning and falling to the ground. The air was instantly filled with the smell of blood as their chins were accurately hit by Zhao Heng, causing them to lose several teeth.

"Come!"

Zhao Heng stepped back, treading on the fallen teeth, moving with ease and without hesitation.

The melee had begun!

Zhao Heng did not deal with these prisoners as he did with the Qing Gang, because he had noticed different killers quietly joining in, clearly intending to use the chaos to finish him off. Therefore, he used the tables and chairs in the cafeteria to dodge and attack, trying to avoid being surrounded.

Otherwise, the consequences would be severe.

At this moment, the prison guards had been blocked outside by the prisoners, waving their batons in vain. The door was closed and blocked by tables and chairs, and the six surveillance cameras were smashed. The guards outside could not break in and could only bang on the door, calling for riot police.

The prisoners who wanted to escape but couldn't leave could only hide in the corners, trembling as they watched the fight. They knew very well that people who lost their minds in a group fight were completely irrational, so they all huddled together, showing that they were just bystanders. Only Changkong slowly sipped his porridge.

To him, this battle was the best accompaniment to his meal.

"Die, you!"

A middle-aged man swung his fist at Zhao Heng. Zhao Heng reached out and grabbed his head, smashing it against the table. Blood splattered, and Zhao Heng threw him into the crowd behind, where the terrifying force knocked down four or five people. The scar-faced man's lips twitched, and he roared, "Bleed!"

More than ten prisoners brandished sharpened toothbrushes and attacked from all sides, even from the tables.

"Bang!"

Zhao Heng kicked up a long ladle and struck the two prisoners jumping from the table. They fell to the ground like birds with broken wings, one of them hitting his head on a chair and passing out. Zhao Heng didn't even look at them, continuing to swing the ladle.

He easily knocked down three people.

Then, like a fish slipping away, he broke out of the prisoners' encirclement, moving quickly through the tables and chairs, the ladle making a loud noise. Blood splattered wherever he went. Zhao Heng's strikes were heavy; he knew that in a group fight, only speed, accuracy, and ferocity would prevent him from being injured.

A man rushed forward, gripping a sharpened toothbrush and stabbing wildly at Zhao Heng's back.

The inch-long tip glinted with a cold, fierce light. Zhao Heng's eyebrows twitched, but he didn't even look behind him. He casually reached back, and his broad hand, which had taken countless lives, cut through the dazzling light, extinguishing the menacing aura.

Dozens of people stared in disbelief.

Zhao Heng's hand grabbed the man's wrist. It seemed like a simple move, but no one could see how it happened. The speed was astonishing. This was just the beginning. As the crowd gaped, Zhao Heng twisted his hand, and the sound of bones breaking echoed, shocking everyone.

In the next second, Zhao Heng threw him into the crowd.

Three people were knocked over!

Zhao Heng twisted his neck, "Continue..."

Seemingly provoked by Zhao Heng's arrogance, the other prisoners, encouraged by the scar-faced man's roars, charged forward, shouting. Eight toothbrushes attacked Zhao Heng from all directions. Zhao Heng's hands moved smoothly, and he leaped into the air, his movements as fluid as if he had practiced for decades.

The momentum of the attack and the power of his fists combined, and his fists, following his spinning body, drew full arcs, colliding with the eight attackers. In one move, all the prisoners attacking Zhao Heng were knocked back, their chests hit by his punches, and they retreated in fear.

The others dared not approach.

Zhao Heng did not stop. He moved forward, striking the remaining prisoners. In less than ten minutes, over thirty prisoners were on the ground. The scar-faced man's face turned especially ugly, never expecting that the person the fat man had provoked would be so difficult to deal with.

Liu Zhaoyi frowned, feeling that although Zhao Heng's powerful attacks were impressive, they would drain a lot of energy. Dealing with these prisoners was not a problem, but how would he handle the hidden killers? He didn't think that Zhao Heng, after a fierce battle, would have the strength to fight off eighteen killers.

"You... don't come near me!"

As the scar-faced man sensed trouble and tried to run, he saw more than ten people rushing at Zhao Heng from behind. He was stunned. When did his gang grow to this size? In his confusion, he saw these men flash out thumb-sized iron bars in their right hands.

The air was suddenly filled with a killing aura.

The scar-faced man's face changed dramatically. He sensed a trap. These men were well-trained, far superior to their disorganized group, and they had managed to get iron bars into the prison. There was no doubt that these men were secretly sent by someone with immense power to deal with Zhao Heng.

The scar-faced man's heart trembled, fearing that he would be killed to cover up the operation.

At this moment, Changkong put down his breakfast, his eyes narrowing. His left hand silently reached into his pocket, gripping something. He had already decided to support Zhao Heng, so he could not let Zhao Heng be in danger. With such a capable general, he could secure half the kingdom.

His left hand, unnoticed, revealed a three-foot-long spear.

The spear's body was silver-white, and the tip was crystal.

Leaning against the wall, Zhao Heng saw more than ten formidable men charging at him, each holding a similar sharp iron bar. He knew they were skilled killers sent by the Qing Gang to deal with him. Zhao Heng squeezed the ladle, making its tip sharp, and with a flick of his right hand, a gleam appeared.

At that moment, the lead killer was already in front of him.

"Die!"

In the cold light, the iron bar whistled down. Zhao Heng sneered, lifting the ladle to strike the attacker's grip. There was a crisp sound, and the killer grunted as the iron bar fell from his broken hand, whistling as it spun.

The iron bar transformed into a fast-spinning wheel, shooting towards the next person.

"Whoosh~"

The next killer, who hadn't even seen what happened, felt a jolt and a sharp pain in his shoulder. Looking down, he saw his comrade's iron bar piercing his shoulder, blood gushing out uncontrollably. He roared in anger, trying to charge forward but losing strength from the pain.

He fell slowly to the ground.

As he fell, he saw Zhao Heng stab the iron bar into his comrade's thigh, who screamed and fell. The more than ten killers, who considered themselves skilled, saw Zhao Heng injure two people in quick succession and felt a chill. They could see the fear in their eyes and hear them swallowing hard.

They had thought killing Zhao Heng would be easy, and the prisoners falling were just a disorganized group. They believed they could kill Zhao Heng and take the million. But they realized this money was too hot to handle. Although they were far superior to the prisoners, they were still no match for Zhao Heng.

This guy's strength was beyond normal.

But now, they had no choice. They could only continue to charge at Zhao Heng, roaring. They were not top-tier killers abroad; otherwise, they wouldn't have taken the two million from Song Shijie to come in a group of eighteen. But because they were unknown, they needed to kill Zhao Heng to raise their status.

If they retreated, they would never get another employer.

Anyone at the bottom of the pyramid had a history of blood and tears. These killers, including Song Shijie and Zhang Ningyan, never expected that Zhang Xiaolin had already considered them expendable. The unpredictable man always used surface appearances to deceive everyone, and today's assassination was just a sideshow.

After the initial chaos and fighting, the leader of the killers regained his composure. He was a middle-aged man exuding a fierce aura, with gray-brown eyes indicating his mixed heritage. His every move exuded the air of a leader. He stared at Zhao Heng like a wolf, full of killing intent.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

He first had six men block Zhao Heng's retreat, compressing his space for maneuver. Then he had nine killers continuously attack, using a simple human wave tactic. He hoped to wear down Zhao Heng's fighting spirit with this strategy, believing that after fighting dozens of prisoners, Zhao Heng was already at the end of his strength.

However, the fierce leader did not notice that Zhao Heng's shoulders occasionally twitched, and each time they did, his eyes became clearer. Despite fighting dozens of prisoners, Zhao Heng still maintained a strong fighting spirit, like an inexhaustible machine, fiercely battling the killers.

The leader of the killers growled, "Attack!"

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