"Go check if he's dead yet."
Liu Zhenhu gritted through the pain in his shoulder and ordered a subordinate to go to the stairwell and check on Cao Yang.
The young man nervously stepped forward, gun in hand, and reached the stairwell—only to find no one. Cao Yang had vanished.
"Boss, no one's there. This guy might have gone upstairs."
As he spoke, he suddenly felt a warm liquid drip onto his face.
Touching it, he realized—it was blood. Cao Yang's blood.
Cao Yang pressed his hands against the wall, eagle-eyed, watching the subordinate.
Terrified, the young man let out a scream and raised his gun to shoot.
In one swift leap, Cao Yang twisted his neck with one hand and simultaneously seized the gun.
Hearing the scream, Liu Zhenhu and A-Wei exchanged a glance—neither dared to approach.
They had assumed Cao Yang was out of ammo and wounded. Never had they imagined he could strike back—and even had a gun handed to him.
"Boss, what do we do?" A-Wei glanced toward the villa gate. If they ran, they'd fall into Cao Yang's line of fire.
"Stay put. Don't move." Liu Zhenhu dared not risk appearing. Once reinforcements arrived, it would be over.
"Open the kennel! Send Weiwu and Jiangjun after him!"
A-Wei obeyed. Two massive wolves, tongues dripping red and foaming, charged out.
"Weiwu! Jiangjun! Kill him!" Liu Zhenhu commanded. These dogs obeyed no one but their masters.
"Woof! Woof!" The two dogs ran toward the stairwell.
The beasts had sensed Cao Yang's deadly aura earlier, but loyal to their masters, they disregarded fear. In their eyes, the masters were the strongest in the world.
Hearing the barking, Cao Yang's instincts flared—these were no ordinary humans. Unlike people, animals didn't dodge; they attacked instinctively.
"Woof!"
The wolves lunged, teeth bared.
Bang! Bang!
Cao Yang shot—one bullet struck Weiwu in the head. The dog whimpered, collapsed, twitching.
Jiangjun bit Cao Yang's arm. Pain shot through him as he slammed its head with the gun butt.
The dog held on relentlessly, refusing to release.
Cao Yang had no choice—he fired two shots at its forehead.
The gun had only five bullets, originally reserved for Liu Zhenhu and A-Wei. But there was no other option.
Bang! Bang!
Jiangjun collapsed, teeth still embedded in Cao Yang's flesh. He struggled to pry its jaws open.
Cao Yang sat at the stairwell, pale, bleeding from his calf and abdomen.
The fire on the third floor raged on. Neighbors had called the police; the property management came but fled after hearing gunfire.
Rationally, he should leave—but he didn't want to forfeit the opportunity in front of him.
With one bullet left in his gun, rushing in recklessly would be suicidal.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. He turned toward the third floor.
Just as he turned, a battered Bozai crawled down. Like Cao Yang, he had been shot in the abdomen and leg, but he looked even worse—bruised and swollen.
Cao Yang aimed his gun. Bozai raised his hands.
This time, he didn't beg. He seemed calm.
In Bozai's mind, whether Cao Yang killed him or not didn't matter—his fate was sealed. Heartbroken, he didn't even bother to plead.
Cao Yang looked at him, then chose not to shoot, continuing upstairs.
At the third-floor door, Cao Yang retrieved two handguns from fallen lieutenants.
He noticed one missing. Glancing at Bozai below, he saw a gun tucked in his waistband—but the boy didn't aim it at him. Cao Yang ignored him.
He rushed into the inferno, ignoring flames licking his hair and clothes, reached the third-floor window, and leapt down.
Liu Zhenhu and A-Wei assumed he was still at the stairwell, cautiously aiming their guns.
Hearing movement behind them, they turned.
Before they could react, A-Wei took a bullet to the face and collapsed.
Liu Zhenhu's chest erupted in blood. Even like this, he tried to raise his gun at Cao Yang.
Cao Yang gave him no chance. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted it—Liu Zhenhu's hand rotated 360 degrees, useless. The gun fell.
Cao Yang kicked it aside, grabbed his neck, and held him tight.
"Damn it! You're Liu Zhenhu! I've done nothing to you, so why try to kill me?"
"You bastard! You killed my brother and say you have no grudge against me?"
"Life and death in the Octagon, don't you know?"
"Do you not know how many people your brother killed upstairs? Did anyone seek revenge?"
"You pathetic loser!"
Cao Yang's fury grew. He slammed the gun butt against Liu Zhenhu's forehead repeatedly, covering his face in blood.
"Wooooh…"
Sirens wailed in the distance. Cao Yang wasted no more words. He aimed at Liu Zhenhu's forehead—bang bang. Two shots ended his life.
Cao Yang rose, avoiding the villa's front door to prevent running into police or firefighters. Ignoring his severe pain, he vaulted over the wall at the back.
Bozai sat despairingly at the stairwell. He heard gunfire and sirens, unsure whether Liu Zhenhu or Cao Yang had survived.
He didn't care. Everyone now knew of his collusion. Even if Liu Zhenhu was dead, no one would spare him.
Suddenly, an idea struck—if everyone who knew about this were dead, maybe he could survive.
With this thought, Bozai found motivation. Limping, he walked toward Liu Zhenhu's side.
Seeing the bodies of Liu Zhenhu and A-Wei, a grim smile appeared on his face.
He returned to the third floor. Several lieutenants lay there—most alive but temporarily incapacitated.
Hardening his heart, Bozai drew his gun, aiming at their heads. Two shots each, ending their lives completely.
He tossed the gun into the fire, collapsed on the floor, and played dead, waiting for rescue.
Cao Yang remained unaware of Bozai's actions—and would not have cared if he had.
Now it was daytime. Covered in blood, Cao Yang walked down the street, drawing attention. Passersby pointed at him; some children cried in fear.
He raised his hand to hail a cab, but none stopped. He blocked the road.
Finally, a taxi stopped. He got in.
"Brother, sit tight. I'll take you to the nearest hospital."
The driver, seeing his bloodied state, was concerned, eager to help.
But before he could speak further, Cao Yang pressed the gun to his forehead.