Wolf Head had already stepped forward. His bald head gleamed with oil as he shouted loudly, "Cold-blooded killing general? I'll take him on!"
Guan Xing didn't even have time to stop him. The moment that killing general appeared at the doorway, Guan Xing had already sensed something familiar. Now he understood—it was the aura of medicinal fluids. This killing general was a human body altered by drugs. To put it simply, he was no longer human.
Wolf Head's temper was never good. As soon as the words left his mouth, his body surged forward. His clenched fist, like a stone hammer, smashed down violently with his shout. That punch easily carried the force of a thousand pounds, whistling through the air.
Once, Wolf Head had flipped a Mercedes with a single punch, sending it rolling three times. That alone showed the terrifying power behind this brute-force blow.
A heavy thud echoed as the punch landed solidly on the killing general's abdomen. The dull-eyed body didn't even try to dodge. After the muffled impact, his body merely swayed. Blood flowed even faster, yet he truly didn't move an inch. He was completely unharmed.
Wolf Head knew very well how powerful his punch was. He froze for an instant—and in that instant, the killing general's fist shot upward from the side. It happened almost in a blink. The blow landed squarely on Wolf Head's abdomen.
The sound was lighter, but Wolf Head's two-hundred-pound body was sent flying like a withered leaf.
With a sharp pa sound, Wolf Head could no longer suppress the pressure in his chest. Blood sprayed out, spilling from the corner of his mouth. Even the iron-bodied Wolf Head couldn't withstand this punch. A physique refined by drugs was truly terrifying.
Lan Fo let out a low shout and was about to rush forward, but Guan Xing grabbed him firmly. Against such a monster, relying on brute force was completely useless.
Guan Xing slowly stepped forward. Lan Fo immediately took his place, carefully guarding Old Tom. Two bodyguards behind them rushed over to help Wolf Head up. Though his injuries were serious, they weren't fatal. Spitting out blood only made the ferocity on Wolf Head's face more pronounced as he stared at the cold-eyed killing general with hatred.
"You Japanese have nothing new except creating monsters like this," Guan Xing said calmly as he walked closer. "Drugs can boost his energy, but they turn him into a mindless idiot. Right now, he's no more than a three-year-old child. Beating a child like this is pointless."
As Guan Xing approached, the killing general stood motionless like a puppet, awaiting orders. Without Yōsen's command, he would not move.
Yōsen's gentle smile now carried a chilling cruelty. His eyes narrowed, and he said nothing, simply waiting for Guan Xing to come closer so the killing general could deliver a fatal strike. This man had already seen through the killing general's secret—someone like that could not be allowed to live.
But with four or five steps still remaining, Guan Xing suddenly stopped. He raised his hand sharply and spoke in a soft, lullaby-like voice:
"You're too tired. Sleep. When you wake up, you'll have grown up."
Strangely, the expressionless killing general actually yawned. The cold emptiness on his face turned into a dull, childlike simplicity. His brows knitted slightly, and he slowly collapsed to the ground. In just a few seconds, he was already breathing deeply, snoring comfortably.
This bizarre turn stunned even Yōsen. The so-called cold-blooded killing machine had fallen before Guan Xing—fallen inexplicably. No one noticed that with a mere wave of his hand, Guan Xing had already fired three streaks of silver light, sealing the vital points of the killing general's body. Of course he would fall asleep.
A dark blur flashed through the air—once, twice—vanishing instantly from sight. A single figure, twin blades gleaming, struck like lightning. The Shadow brothers, who had not moved or spoken once until now, finally attacked.
The people of God hadn't even recovered from Guan Xing's display when the deadliest killers launched their assault. Lan Fo was the first to shout a warning, but before the sound faded, he realized that Guan Xing was no longer there. He had vanished as well.
"Not bad," Guan Xing's voice suddenly sounded right in front of Lan Fo. "Your ninja invisibility technique is already seven-tenths complete."
Lan Fo blinked—and saw Guan Xing standing calmly before him, hands loosely behind his back, serene as if he had never moved at all.
Yōsen had already risen to his feet. His voice turned sinister as he said, "These are the left and right warriors of the Yō family. They swore loyalty to me with their lives. Now, I will use them to prove the might of the Yamaguchi-gumi. I return their lives to me."
"Little Japanese, let me weigh you," Wolf Head growled. Though defeated in one exchange, his fighting spirit was stirred. He stepped forward, eager to fight again, even before Guan Xing.
Guan Xing knew very well that the Shadow twins were no ordinary opponents. Lan Fo's skills were first-rate, but defeating them would be extremely difficult.
Just as Guan Xing was about to speak, another man stepped out from among God's bodyguards. He was only about 1.7 meters tall, thin as a reed. Staring at the two ninja masters, calm as an abyss, he said, "Two of them, Captain Lan Fo—then two of us. That's fair."
Fair or not hardly mattered anymore. The reversal of momentum had been swallowed by the surging aura of killing intent. There was no doubt—if the cold-blooded killing general earlier, or the Shadow twin ninjas now, could kill them, Yōsen would never stop it. From the moment the killing general fell, Guan Xing had already understood the true nature of today's negotiation.
In the Tom family, Old Tom was like an immovable boulder, stabilizing the entire mountain. If he could be killed, then before Little Tom's temperament fully matured, compared to the old foxes of the Yamaguchi-gumi, he would be nothing more than a dish served to their mouths.
This man was peculiar. The bodyguards jokingly called him "Monkey"—not only because of his skinny frame, but also because he practiced a very special Monkey Fist. His movements involved scratching and twitching, full of the spirit of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong.
Guan Xing hadn't expected Monkey Fist—an Eastern martial art—to appear in the hands of a Western youth. From his opening stance alone, palms held flat and moving slowly up and down, a faint yet tangible flow of energy had already formed around his body. This skinny fellow was truly not simple.
It seemed that within God, there were indeed many hidden talents—people who disliked showing off and instead remained concealed. Judging by the circulating energy around Monkey, he had already grasped an authentic martial method. Though far inferior to Guan Xing, for a Westerner, this level was already remarkable.
With this youth present, Guan Xing felt at ease about Lan Fo. Though victory wasn't guaranteed, self-preservation would not be a problem.
Like ghosts, appearing and vanishing, the Shadow ninjas' greatest strength lay in their elusive movements. The moment Lan Fo and Monkey stepped into the fray, it was as if they were surrounded. Attacks could come from any direction, yet everything felt illusory and unpredictable. This harassing style was indeed a supreme tactic in combat.
Once the mind wavered, defeat was inevitable.
Lan Fo had been trained personally by Guan Xing. His presence alone carried the bearing of a master—overwhelming and intimidating. Even before exchanging blows, he could make his enemy's courage falter, an effect no less effective than a ninja's mental disruption.
Monkey remained still. His eyes seemed vacant, but his agile ears twitched subtly. Clearly, he had abandoned vision, using hearing and instinct instead. Guan Xing couldn't help nodding. If Monkey were blessed with the right opportunity, he might truly become an authentic martial artist.
Unfortunately, he was Western. Lacking the innate bloodline foundation of Easterners, he did not possess an instinctive comprehension of martial arts. If he were Eastern, Guan Xing might have offered him guidance. As it was, Monkey could only rely on his own gradual understanding. After all, the physical constitutions of East and West were fundamentally different.
At last, the Shadow ninja brothers could no longer hold back. They underestimated the pairing of Lan Fo and Monkey. With their perfectly synchronized killing techniques and the combined might of twin blades, they possessed absolute confidence.
This was the confidence of true power—natural and unquestioned.
Two blades flashed with a whoosh. Cold light burst forth as the slashes tore through the air, carrying bone-chilling intent that pierced the skin. Lan Fo rolled across the ground, while Monkey swayed like a wave. Both narrowly avoided the strikes. Their counterattack lunged forward—only to strike empty air.
The ninjas' invisibility techniques were superb. Aside from Guan Xing, no one could truly sense their positions. Guan Xing still did not intervene. Lan Fo and the others clearly needed more real combat. Otherwise, after learning only the surface, they would believe themselves unrivaled under heaven.
Their figures vanished—then merged as one. The twin blades overlapped, appearing as a single person to the naked eye. Their full-force assault targeted Lan Fo, who had just regained his footing.
Lan Fo lacked Guan Xing's perception. Sensing the blades closing in, he avoided rolling again. He twisted left, dodging the main blade—but the second overlapping blade slipped free in silence. As Lan Fo's footing was unsteady, it slashed diagonally toward him, straight at his face.
Illusions flickered. Monkey sensed something terribly wrong. His body shot forward like lightning. At that moment, his only thought was to help Lan Fo escape this seemingly unavoidable strike.