The man standing in the center seemed to be the leader. He chuckled, "Mr. Shang, I heard you have clout in both the underworld and legitimate circles, but now it seems you're about to fall at the hands of us brothers." As he spoke, he pulled out a shiny dagger, the edge so sharp it reflected the arrogance on their faces.
It seemed that neither Yan Wuxu nor Fei Qing wanted Shang Yin to walk out of this alley alive tonight.
Shang Yin spat, adjusted his stance, and leaned against the wall behind him. The alley, which belonged to the bar, usually had some empty bottles and crates lying around. He groped around and grabbed a bottle.
The cold, smooth bottle shifted in his palm before he hurled it out, striking the man in the center on the forehead. The man, howling in anger, ordered, "Finish him off." The remaining three men surged forward, the daggers in their hands seemed to carry a murderous aura, aiming to stab holes in Shang Yin.
