Chapter 128: Pleading for Mercy

Qin Changqing trembled all over, and Li Xianwu's legs shook with fear. The two exchanged a glance, then broke into a run. Though their legs felt as heavy as if filled with lead, they still fled desperately. They no longer cared about Mo Feng. Mo Han was far too terrifying.

From their previous encounters, they were convinced that if they didn’t escape quickly, once Mo Han killed Mo Feng, they would be next.

“Did I tell you to leave?”

Suddenly, Mo Han’s voice rang out behind them, like a god of war summoning them, filled with an overwhelming force that instantly struck fear into their hearts.

“Bang!”
“Bang!”

Qin Changqing and Li Xianwu knelt almost simultaneously.

“Mo Han, I was wrong. From the start, I shouldn’t have targeted you. Haoran made a mistake and deserved the punishment you gave him! Mo Han, for the sake of us both being from Qian City, please spare me this once!” Qin Changqing kowtowed repeatedly, his voice choked with tears.

This was his only card to play—appealing to their shared hometown. Along the way, he had noticed that Mo Han rarely killed people from Qian City. He was begging for his life.

Seeing Qin Changqing’s pitiful demeanor, Mo Han shook his head with a hint of disgust in his eyes—he had never seen such cowardice.

“Mo Han, Uncle was wrong too…” Li Xianwu hurriedly kowtowed to Mo Han as well, fully aware of his ruthlessness.

“Get lost!” Mo Han said impatiently, his voice cold. “This is your last chance. If there’s a next time, prepare for your own funerals!”

For pests like Qin Changqing and Li Xianwu—cowards—Mo Han had no interest in harming them. To attack them would be an insult to his own skill.

“We won’t dare again! We won’t!” The two scrambled up and fled.

There was no trace left of their former arrogance.

Qin Changqing was truly terrified. Once in his car, he drove straight home, deciding that no matter how unwilling he felt, he would never provoke Mo Han again. Today, his courage had finally been shattered.

Though Li Xianwu had just knelt and begged for mercy, his heart seethed with resentment. He had sacrificed so much for this day, for the chance to see Mo Han die in front of him.

His son had become a vegetative patient.
His wife had become Mo Feng’s plaything.
He had been humiliated with a green hat right in front of him.

How could he ever accept that?

“Mo Han, no matter what, even if it costs the entire Li family, I will make sure you die before my eyes. Otherwise, I will never rest in peace!” Li Xianwu roared in his heart, almost crashing his car into the guardrail without realizing it.

Turning back to Mo Feng, he saw the Dragon Slayer lying on the ground, trembling like a dead dog.

His eyes flicked to Mo Han’s icy gaze.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stood rooted to the spot, utterly paralyzed by fear.

He knew well how powerful the Dragon Slayer was—one of the four strongest warriors of the Mo family.

But how could he have been so easily crippled by Mo Han?

A monster! A devil!

When Mo Han’s fierce gaze landed on him, Mo Feng shuddered, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

On the ground, the Dragon Slayer was utterly powerless, no different from a dead dog—no longer arrogant or domineering, no longer able to protect him.

“What… what do you want to do?” Mo Feng’s voice quivered as Mo Han slowly approached, his steps measured. He retreated step by step.

“Mo Han, don’t forget, our family has countless strong warriors. If you dare harm me, my father will personally kill you. My father...” Before he could finish, Mo Han struck him sharply with a slap.

“Smack!” Mo Feng was slammed to the ground. He coughed, spitting out two bloodied teeth.

“Your father?” Mo Han sneered mercilessly. “I will kill him myself sooner or later. Ever since he schemed against my parents, it was destined that he would die by my hand. Some debts can be ignored, but some debts—no matter if I have to cross mountains and seas or walk through fire and ice—I will repay them personally!”

Mo Han looked down from above and pressed his foot onto Mo Feng’s face.

Mo Feng trembled in terror, convinced Mo Han would crush his head with that single step.

What kind of man was this? Three years ago, he had been nothing but a weakling!

What had happened in Qian City during these three years?

How had he become so monstrous? So cruel and merciless?

“Mo Han… please, I beg you, spare me…”

Mo Feng’s face was pale, cold sweat dripping down, no longer daring to resist.

“Spare you?” Mo Han laughed coldly. “Then who will settle this karmic debt for me?”

As his words fell, he stomped down…

Mo Feng and the Dragon Slayer had come to Qian City, carrying the Mo family’s expectations.

They arrived and left in haste, quietly and without causing a ripple.

No clouds were stirred, no waves created.

Qian City returned to its calm once again.

Without any underground forces, Qian City felt safer than ever.

After a busy day, Fang Zhuyun returned safely home, escorted by Number Five and Number Six.

Numbers Five and Six were part of the thirty special trainees led by Xu Jing.

From Xu Jing as Number One to Number Thirty, they were ranked by strength, strongest to weakest.

Number One was Xu Jing himself.

Numbers Five and Six were the fifth and sixth strongest among them.

Mo Han had assigned them to protect Fang Zhuyun thoroughly.

Both were thrilled—such a coveted assignment even made Xu Jing envious.

Of course, the others only dared to joke about it in private.

Fang Zhuyun was not only a senior executive at the company but also personally assigned protection by Mo Han.

No matter how foolish they were, they knew Fang Zhuyun was an idol to be admired from afar, to be protected with their lives.

Fang Zhuyun opened the door and saw Lu Taor sitting on the sofa playing on her phone. She walked over.

“Auntie, you’re finally back,” Fang Zhuyun said, tossing her bag onto the sofa before sitting beside Lu Taor.

Lu Taor was Fang Zhuyun’s maternal aunt, the very person who had raised her.

For Fang Zhuyun, Lu Taor had remained unmarried her entire life.

“Zhuyun, what’s wrong? You don’t look well,” Lu Taor said, looking up at Fang Zhuyun with concern.

Fang Zhuyun bit her lip and finally asked, “Auntie, please be honest with me—my father isn’t dead, is he?”

She had been holding this question inside for days.

But with Lu Taor away traveling, she hadn’t dared ask over the phone.