Chapter 113: Silencing the Witness

Feng Qiankun lay on his hospital bed, his eyes filled with nothing but hatred. The doctor had told him that the main bones in all four of his limbs had been shattered by immense force and could never be healed. For the rest of his life, he would be confined to a wheelchair, dependent on others for his every basic need.

"Mo, you bastard! Even if I've become a cripple, I will watch you die before my very eyes!" Feng Qiankun’s eyes brimmed with overwhelming malice. He already knew that his older brother, Huang Yulong, had sent men to avenge him. This was the only spark of excitement left in his heart—the prospect of seeing Mo Han destroyed. His life was effectively over, but he wanted to witness Mo Han’s death as his final wish.

"Brother Feng, Brother Bing is here. He asked me to bring you a message." A young man walked into the room at that moment.

"What did Brother Bing say?" Feng Qiankun’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"Brother Bing says he will personally kill Mo Han in the next two days to avenge you. You are suffering too much; we in the Baishan Society would rather die than submit. We would rather meet the King of Hell than endure this kind of torture." The young man drew a dagger. "Brother Bing told me to see you off and grant you release."

"Hu Li, what are you doing? Even if I am crippled, I am still your senior brother!" Feng Qiankun panicked as he saw the blade. Despite his condition, he did not want to die—not yet, not until he saw Mo Han dead. He felt such bitter resentment.

"Brother Feng, you will always be my senior brother, but unfortunately, this is Brother Bing’s order. I cannot defy him." Hu Li struggled with his emotions; he had always respected Feng Qiankun. But he could not disobey Chen Bing. "Go in peace, Brother Feng. I am forced to do this. If I had another choice, I wouldn't have taken this path. Rest assured, I will visit your grave every year on this day."

With a ruthless glint in his eyes, Hu Li plunged the dagger deep into Feng Qiankun’s heart. Feng Qiankun’s body convulsed, his face contorted in agony. Only at this final moment did he realize the truth: it was because he knew too much. The one who had ordered his death was none other than the brother he respected most—Huang Yulong.

He understood now. But it was too late. To silence him, Huang Yulong had to kill him. Only the dead could keep secrets.

Feng Qiankun was dead. He didn't cause so much as a ripple. To the power players, he was merely a useless pawn; to the underlings, he was just a discarded cripple not worth mourning.

"Tell Du Shisan, Zhou Shucai, and Wang Meiren to come see me," Chen Bing told his men. Standing six-foot-one with a crew cut, Chen Bing possessed a sinister, rebellious air. He was a former national Sanda champion known for his brutality, often taking pleasure in breaking others' limbs. Within the Baishan Society, he was the strongest fighter—many claimed he was far more formidable than Huang Yulong himself.

"Brother Bing, aren't we going to kill Mo Han to avenge Brother Feng?" Hu Li asked, confused.

"No rush," Chen Bing replied with a cocky grin. It was clear Huang Yulong had sent him to the front lines to serve as cannon fodder. Despite being the strongest combatant, Chen Bing’s rank was low, even below the late Feng Qiankun. To Huang Yulong, he was nothing more than a blunt instrument. Since he was now out of Huang Yulong’s sight, he needed to plan his own future. One couldn't spend their whole life following in another’s shadow.

While Qian City was only a second-tier city compared to the metropolises of Yuzhou or Chuan Du, the underground market here was lucrative. After years of doing Huang Yulong’s dirty work, it was time to look out for himself. In their line of work, heartfelt loyalty was a myth; everything was about profit. He had no intention of dying for Huang Yulong. He wanted to swallow Qian City for himself.

Half an hour later, Du Shisan and the others arrived.

"Brother Bing, long time no see." All three recognized Chen Bing. While their status was slightly lower than his, they were still heavyweights in the Baishan Society.

"Indeed. As soon as I arrived in Qian City, I couldn't wait to invite you three for a drink." Chen Bing smiled sinisterly and raised his glass. "Come, let me toast you."

"You're too kind, Brother Bing." The three men offered hollow smiles and drank with him. They knew that Huang Yulong had sent them not just to assist Chen Bing, but to monitor him. They were seasoned veterans; they knew this was likely a trap.

"What do you think of me, Chen Bing?" he asked, setting down his glass with a smirk.

Du Shisan looked at him and instantly understood. Chen Bing was indeed ambitious—no wonder Huang Yulong had warned them to be on guard. "Brother Bing is excellent. The boys call you the War God of our Baishan Society; we all admire you."

"Is that so?" Chen Bing said coolly. "Then how about going into business with me?" He didn't like beating around the bush.

"What?" The three were stunned. They knew this wasn't just a friendly drink, but hearing him openly suggest breaking away was shocking. As long as he hadn't said it out loud, Huang Yulong might have left room for reconciliation, but now, there was no turning back.

"Why is that so strange?" Chen Bing laughed dismissively. "After all these years with Huang Yulong, what have you gained? The Yuzhou underground market is worth a billion a year. How much have you done for him? Do you even have ten million in your bank accounts?"

At these words, their expressions darkened. The Yuzhou market was twice as profitable as Qian City's. They had heard that figures like Xu Biao and Zuo Qinglong, who worked for Fifth Master, were far less influential than they were, yet they all possessed assets worth over a hundred million. In contrast, even the late Feng Qiankun had only accumulated a few tens of millions. The three of them had less than ten million in savings and zero personal assets to their names.