"Who’s in favor now? And who’s against?"
The conference room fell dead silent.
Wu Yurong smiled without a word.
The two remaining hall masters had nothing to say either.
They stood to gain benefits.
And they could do so without lifting a finger.
Why would they rebel against Li Caijun?
Right now, Li Caijun was a rabid dog.
Biting anyone in his path.
No one wanted to defy him at this critical moment.
It’d be thankless effort.
Besides, they weren’t close to Lin Fan—
But they *were* close to benefits (added).
Li Caijun grinned, his face smeared with blood.
At this moment, his smile carried a sinister, almost eerie aura!!!
Chilling to the bone.
"Hahaha... Since no one opposes, the matter is settled."
Li Caijun was thoroughly pleased.
He cast a disdainful glance at the corpse on the floor.
Silently congratulating himself.
At least there were still fools in the Dragon King Hall who refused to read the room, giving him the perfect opportunity to assert dominance.
A fitting use for trash.
The matter of the acting Dragon King was swiftly decided.
To prevent unexpected complications,
Li Caijun resolved to strike that very afternoon.
With lightning speed, he would purge the remnants of Lin Fan and Ma Qun’s factions.
Catching them off guard—
A brilliant strategy.
Meanwhile, within the Dragon King Hall...
The iron-fisted forces left behind by Lin Fan
Were holding their own meeting.
An elderly foreigner, Old Charlie, was fuming.
"That son of a whore Li Caijun dares to openly convene a hall masters’ meeting without the Dragon King’s approval—no attempt to hide it! His intentions are clear to all."
A middle-aged blonde woman, Catherine, added, "No need to spell it out, Old Charlie. We all know. But we still can’t reach the Dragon King. By the way, Paul, any updates on His Majesty?"
Paul took a deep drag of his cigarette and shook his head. "Nothing yet."
Of course, the group wasn’t just comprised of locals and foreigners.
There were Asians too.
Like their superior—
Du Gulin.
Du Gulin’s expression remained dark.
He slammed the table,
Signaling for silence.
The chatter ceased immediately.
Only then did Du Gulin speak.
"Keep trying to contact the Dragon King—or Ma Qun. Either one will do."
"Also, we won’t provoke Ren Tu’s faction, but we must stay vigilant in case they attack first."
No one objected.
Old Charlie interjected, "Mr. Du, why don’t we reach out to Ma Qun’s forces? Merge our strengths. These are extraordinary times—we need extraordinary measures. That whore’s son Li Caijun—"
"Has a pitch-black heart!"
The room fell silent.
But soon,
Someone gave a thumbs-up.
Paul: "Old Charlie’s right. That bastard’s no good—a psychotic murderer."
Catherine: "Just a rabid dog. Why waste words on mutts?"
Jin Qingyi: "I fully support Old Charlie. I’ll contact Ma Qun’s forces immediately."
Du Gulin saw no reason to delay.
Nor did he oppose his subordinates’ suggestions.
Besides, the Dragon King and Ma Qun *were* close allies.
Surely Ma Qun, even from distant Dragon Country, would understand.
Just as the group prepared to act—
*Knock knock knock—*
The office door was pounded urgently.
The visitor shouted,
"Mr. Du! Mr. Du! Disaster! Disaster has struck!"
Everyone froze.
But someone snapped to their senses and opened the door.
A sharply dressed Black subordinate rushed in,
His face a mask of panic.
"What happened?" Du Gulin demanded.
A meeting of this gravity allowed no interruptions—
Unless it was life or death.
For this subordinate to barge in meant catastrophe.
The young man ignored his parched throat, resisting the urge to gulp water.
Instead, he blurted in distress:
"Mr. Du! Betrayal!!! Betrayal!!!"
"That whore’s spawn Li Caijun has rebelled!!!"
*Boom—*
The news hit like a thunderclap.
Their minds reeled.
Du Gulin shot to his feet, crossing the room in a blink to seize the subordinate’s shoulders—his grip bone-crushing.
The man winced in pain.
Unaware, Du Gulin pressed fiercely:
"What’s happening outside? Speak!! Now!!!"
"Goddammit, why aren’t you talking?!"
The subordinate whimpered, "Sir... you’re hurting me."
Du Gulin’s sharp ears caught it, and he released his grip.
The moment the pressure eased, the subordinate gasped in relief.
Though physically robust,
He’d mastered only brute strength—
None of the refined techniques.
Without further prompting, the man spilled his report:
"Li Caijun and the other hall masters are slaughtering Ma Qun’s forces. And now—our perimeter’s overrun! Armed men everywhere! Our brothers are already dying out there!"
*CRASH!!*
Du Gulin exploded, smashing his fist clean through the solid conference table.
"GODDAMN THAT DOG!!! HOW DARE HE?!"
Rage ignited the room.
This wasn’t just rebellion—
It was a direct assault on the Dragon King’s authority!
Even if His Majesty was unreachable now,
He would *return* someday!!!
But some traitorous rats couldn’t wait.
Spitting on the Dragon King’s will—
And slaughtering their own.
Worse, their life savings were tied to this operation!
They’d invested fortunes recruiting men,
Dreaming of golden retirement funds.
"Kill that bitch-born Li Caijun!!!"
"I’ll make him PAY!!!"
"Show no mercy to the traitors!"
They’d taken precautions,
Anticipating this day.
Though not foolproof,
Surely their outer defenses could buy time—?
But reality was cruel.
A mocking voice drifted from the doorway:
"Traitors? Me? Just an *acting* Dragon King. Since when is that treason?"
The tone dripped with amusement.
Du Gulin and the others paled.
All eyes snapped to the entrance—
Bracing for battle.
Li Caijun stood there, drenched in blood.
Whether his own or others’ was unclear.
Behind him trailed a hall master and a dozen armed followers.
Du Gulin’s face twisted in fury.
"Lord Ren Tu, leave now, and I’ll pretend this never happened. The Dragon King need never know."
Pride swallowed—
For survival.
He’d never imagined Li Caijun would move *this* fast.
Given even a little time to regroup,
They’d have crushed this coup!!!!!!
Li Caijun’s blood-streaked face split into a grotesque grin.
“Using the Dragon King to intimidate me?” Old Charlie played the seniority card. “Mr. Li, I urge you not to go too far. Let’s all calm down and talk this through. The Dragon King Hall belongs to everyone—there’s nothing that can’t be resolved with words.”
He was one of the oldest and most seasoned members of the Dragon King Hall.
The bricks and tiles of the Dragon King Hall?
Old Charlie had contributed to its construction.
The equipment in the Dragon King Hall?
Old Charlie had bled and risked his life to earn it.
Li Caijun strode over, looking down at Old Charlie with disdain.
“You want to talk to me?”
Seeing Li Caijun’s ‘friendly’ expression, Old Charlie didn’t catch the danger. Instead, he pressed on: “Yes, Mr. Li.”
“Fine, then let’s talk!”
Old Charlie’s face lit up with hope—only for a searing pain to explode in his chest as Li Caijun delivered a brutal front kick, sending him flying backward.
Coughing up blood on the floor, Old Charlie’s suffering ignited the already tense atmosphere in the conference room.
“You damn brat, don’t push your luck!!”
“Mr. Li, you’ve gone too far!”
“Is there no reasoning with you?”
Shouts and curses erupted.
Led by Du Gulin, the Dragon King faction in the room burned with fury.
Yet, under the threat of gun barrels—under the chilling presence of Li Caijun, a bloodthirsty killer who slaughtered without blinking—not a single soul dared to step forward and fight.
They seethed with rage, voicing their anger loudly, but none had the guts to resist.
Blame it on these foreigners picking up bad habits from Lin Fan and his crew.
When faced with life-or-death situations,
their slogans grew louder than anyone else’s.
But in truth?
They were all hoping someone else would charge ahead and die first—
to sacrifice themselves for the Hall.
Then, once these murderers were spent and their intimidation had run its course,
they’d submit their pledges of loyalty.
Was this shameless survival?
No—it was wisdom, it was knowing when to yield!
Li Caijun scanned the room, his grin widening.
“Hahahaha—what a bunch of worthless trash!”
“How did Lin Fan end up with idiots like you?”
“Pathetic.”
Pausing, his tone grew even more arrogant.
“Remember this—from today onward, *my* rules are the only rules!!!!”
“Aish, screw your rules!”
Du Gulin roared, flipping a chair and swinging it at Li Caijun with all his might.
Li Caijun’s eyes gleamed with violence. Instead of dodging, he let the chair crash into him—shattering on impact—before lunging at Du Gulin.
The two men clashed in a brutal brawl.
“Nobody fires—I’m killing him myself!”
Li Caijun was electrified with excitement.
Behind him, Wu Yurong rolled her eyes, utterly unimpressed by his sadistic games.
She signaled her men, who raised their guns at the rest of the room, ensuring no sudden uprisings.
**CRACK—**
The crisp sound of snapping bone echoed through the chamber.
Agony lanced through Du Gulin’s body.
“AAARGH!!” he screamed.
But it wasn’t over.
Li Caijun mercilessly stomped down, shattering one of Du Gulin’s legs.
As everyone knew,
three was the number of balance.
Lose one,
and Du Gulin collapsed, his equilibrium destroyed.
With his last ounce of strength, he bellowed:
“ATTACK!!! All of you, MOVE—unless you want your families dead!!”
“If you don’t act now, he won’t spare any of you later!”
At that moment,
killing intent flashed in the others’ eyes.
They were Lin Fan’s most trusted men.
Even if their families weren’t being watched,
their allegiance alone marked them for death.
“Open fire at will,” Wu Yurong drawled, amused.
She wasn’t about to let Li Caijun waste time slaughtering them one by one.
Sure, he *could* do it.
But she wasn’t waiting.
**RATATATAT—**
At her command,
muzzles flared, bullets tearing through the air.
No matter how skilled you were,
no matter how strong—
Under a hail of gunfire,
who walks away unscathed?
One bullet? Maybe you survive.
Ten?
A hundred?
This was the land of the free—the good ol’ USA.
AKs and M4A1 rifles were *standard issue*.
Hell, with enough cash,
you could buy a damn *tank*.
The conference room was spacious,
but that was its flaw.
Aside from tables and chairs,
there was nowhere to hide.
Some among them were martial arts masters,
but what good was speed against bullets?
No weapons were allowed in meetings—
a rule set by Lin Fan himself,
to prevent internal bloodshed.
Deaths?
Lin Fan didn’t care.
Unless the dead were the ones making him money.
*Then* he cared.
Li Caijun, drenched in blood,
made no move to stop the carnage this time.
Screams of pain, rage, and terror filled the air.
He spread his arms, basking in the chaos like an artist admiring his masterpiece.
To him,
the raw emotions of others
were strokes on a canvas.
And he?
He was the painter.
The artist.
The arbiter of life and death.
The nightmare of this world!!!
The battle was swift.
The men in this room?
They were Lin Fan’s inner circle—his lieutenants.
Li Caijun, an Easterner,
knew the ancient wisdom: *To crush rebels, capture their chief first.*
With the heads gone,
the underlings—no matter how numerous or stubborn—
would collapse into disarray.
Soon,
the room was a river of blood.
Not a single loyalist of the Dragon King was left alive.
Li Caijun and Wu Yurong stepped out together.
“Care for dinner tonight, Ms. Wu?”
Wu Yurong, in unusually high spirits, nodded.
“Sure. I’ve got nothing else planned.”
Li Caijun’s eyes lit up.
Between adults,
no words were needed.
He remembered his teacher’s old saying:
*Strict in middle school, tense in high school, loose in college—then complete freedom in society.*
Back then, he thought it was about education.
Now?
It was life.
A golden truth.
An immortal maxim!
Wiping blood from his face, he adjusted his glasses and flashed a radiant smile.
“I’ll make sure tonight’s dinner is unforgettable.”
The grin, paired with his bloodstained face,
was grotesquely ironic.
But Wu Yurong was unfazed. She smirked.
“I look forward to it.”
**ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!**
That smile awakened the beast in Li Caijun’s heart. He nearly lost control, his excitement boiling over.
Then—
**BRRRRNG—**
Wu Yurong’s phone rang.
Li Caijun froze, watching as she answered.
Within seconds,
her smile vanished.
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