Chapter 72: 72 Hurling Bottles

The hall suddenly went silent as everyone looked up at Qin Feng, who was sitting elegantly on the second floor, with their jaws hanging open in surprise.

Because the second floor was a raised platform hugging the walls of the hall, everyone could still see him from anywhere on the first floor.

Qin Feng was reclining on a sofa, his long legs thrown over a coffee table and a cigarette in his hand. His sluggish eyes flouted at those below.

"How the hell did he get up there?! Wasn't he right here just now?"

The ladies in the dance floor screamed, almost jumping up with excitement with no regard for the thugs who guarded them. A few of them even stretched out their arms and shouted, "Come here, Lone Ranger, I wanna have your baby! Come on, come on!"

Qin Feng chuckled bashfully. He was really helpless when faced with such proposals. Although he had been admonishing himself to be an upright person, he couldn’t refuse someone who really wanted to offer themselves to him - that would just be rude! A good person shouldn’t be rude...

"Who is this guy? How can he be so good?" Ru Ru carefully measured up the Lone Ranger. She expected him to be Zhao Jun’s best fighter, but she knew all of Brother Jun’s men and none of them were this strong. Besides, this guy looked pretty unassuming. Although she could not see what he looked like, she wasn’t too impressed with his figure.

Why would he risk his skin to rescue the Supersonic? Was he a super-thug hired by Zhao Jun?

Mensi finally climbed out of the human pile, red-faced and struggling for breath. He really had the wind crushed out of him.

Two of his men supported him as he looked up at Qin Feng and wheezed, "Come… down… here!"

He was careful not to strain himself for a few more moments, feeling the pain in his squeezed chest.

"Come on up. Let me tell you a story," Qin Feng snickered. "Look at you. What a wimp! You are not a good leader. Is this all you can do with your leadership?"

They could pull off fancy formations, but in fact, they fought without rules. There was no difference between those gangsters and any other hooligans. That is, they were all just bluffing to intimidate their opponents. Even if they won, there was nothing remarkable about bluffing.

"Go! Go! Kill him!" Mensi felt his blood boil in his veins, "Hurry up, fight for me!"

The thugs didn’t hesitate, rushing up the stairs in a flurry.

Qin Feng leisurely picked up an empty bottle from the table beside him and threw it in a graceful arc through the air, hitting the foremost guy right between the eyes.

The bottle shattered with a clatter, sending shards of glass flying all over the place.

The man collapsed at the bottom of the staircase with a dull thud, out cold.

The two bottles hit their targets with pinpoint accuracy, like laser-guided missiles. The dozen people trapped on the stairs didn’t dare to advance any further.

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They raised their eyes to the lone man on the second floor with fear etched in their faces. It was an impossible angle; how did he make the bottles fly like that? Could he control them in the air?

Impossible. Unbelievable!

"Why did you stop?"

Qin Feng played with a wine bottle in his hand, his face exuding cunning charm, like the brave cavalry leader Zhao Zilong provoking the enemy’s front lines at the battle of Chang Hill.

The gangsters stood on the staircase as if they were constipated, too afraid to move.

The distant Mensi couldn’t take it anymore. "You useless piles of trash! Get up there! I’ll cut anyone who takes a single step back!" he roared, slashing at the air with his long machete.

The gangsters still didn’t move, trying to decide whom they feared more. The four men at the front were bolder, though, and rushed onwards to the second floor.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Qin Feng unleashed a barrage of heavy glass bottles, each one finding its mark. Those four men were immediately struck down, their skulls cracked and blood splattering everywhere. Glass shards covered the entire staircase.

No one dared to come forward again. The few still standing turned back in a mad dash to get away.

Qin Feng had had enough of messing around. He estimated that those young thugs were almost at the limits of their mental endurance. Prolonging the fight simply served no practical purpose.

Qin Feng had nothing to do with any of these people. Even if he saved Ru Ru, it did not mean he had any good impression of her. By the same token, sweeping away Mensi and his gang didn’t mean he had a deep hatred towards them.

Qin Feng only needed to be in the right place at the right time. As long as the desired effect could be achieved, there was no need to kill them all. After all, they were all thugs; their face was more important to them than their lives.

Mensi was at his wits’ end.

He pointed his long machete at Qin Feng on the second floor and roared, "You coward! Wearing a mask, hiding up there like a woman. Do you dare to come down? If I'm going to fight you, you should know that-"

Before he could finish, Qin Feng shrugged his shoulders, stepped on the guardrail, and jumped down to the ground floor, delivering a thousand jin of force into the center of Mensi’s chest with an aerial kick that sent him flying seven or eight meters across the floor like a rag doll. The onlookers watched in amazement. What force could make a 190-jin man fly through the air like that?

With just one kick, everything came to an end.

Qin Feng thought he would be faced with a real challenge tonight. He was frankly a little disappointed to find that even Ji Jiangshan's top fighter was this weak. It seemed that, as people said, Ji had been well-behaved ever since he started his legal businesses and has worked hard to clean up his shady past. In the meantime, his men lost much of their fighting skill due to inaction. Over time, all those who could really fight went out to set up their own businesses, and those who were still following Ji Jiangshan were second-rate thugs who had to rely on strength in numbers, like Mensi. Although they were tough, they had a simple mind and could not be relied upon for much more than brute force.

"Help your boss up, will you?" the Lone Ranger looked around contemptuously. The remaining few thugs didn’t dare to make any sudden moves. "Or would you like to keep fighting?"

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