Chapter Thirty-Four: Settling the Matter with Sang Qiang

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The wound on Zhuo Nan’s thigh was healing rapidly with the help of his brain. It seemed the super brain had many more functions, but Zhuo Nan hadn’t explored them all. The brain kept silent, and Zhuo Nan didn’t ask; he knew well enough that the brain had now decided to help him wholeheartedly. Asking too many questions would only make him seem greedy.

But Lan Qian had no idea that Zhuo Nan possessed a super brain. After they left the nightclub... "Little brother, hold on a bit longer. I'll take you to the hospital right away." Her concern and affection for Zhuo Nan were plain to see.

Zhuo Nan smiled faintly. "Sis, it doesn't hurt anymore. No need to go to the hospital." With that, he took Lan Qian’s hand, led her to the side of the road, and hailed a taxi.

"I don’t care. You’re hurt, you have to go to the hospital," Lan Qian insisted, pulling Zhuo Nan toward the car. But suddenly, a sharp pain struck the back of her neck, her vision went black, and she lost consciousness, slumping gently against Zhuo Nan.

As he looked at Lan Qian leaning in his arms, Zhuo Nan murmured softly, "Sorry, sis..." Then he carried her into the taxi. Under the driver’s astonished gaze, he fished a fifty-yuan note from her purse and handed it over. "Take her to the criminal investigation department," he instructed, adding, "I’ve noted your license plate."

Having settled everything, Zhuo Nan turned and walked into a nearby alley. The darkness! Zhuo Nan liked it, especially in this long alley with not a single light, only the moon above struggling to pierce the clouds and buildings, trying to cast its feeble light.

The alley was long. Zhuo Nan walked slowly inward. Suddenly, dozens of people poured in from both ends of the alley. In the moonlight, Zhuo Nan glanced over. There were more than twenty of them. Clearly, Sang Qiang had gone all out to deal with him. Zhuo Nan laughed inwardly; since when had his affairs become so grand?

He stopped, leaning against the wall. The two groups approached, stopping about five or six meters from him. Now that they were closer, Zhuo Nan could see their weapons—machetes or iron rods. It was clear Sang Qiang intended for him to die here.

Actually, Zhuo Nan had already seen them clearly. With the super brain, night was as clear as day to him. His nervous system was being transformed—his reactions, speed, awareness, and strength were all growing at an incredible rate.

The gangsters stared at Zhuo Nan, but he leaned casually against the wall, smiling. "Tell Sang Qiang to come out and talk."

They hesitated, then Sang Qiang emerged from the darkness with a loud laugh. "Ha ha ha! I really underestimated you, kid. You’ve got skills. How about this—join me, and we’ll let bygones be bygones?"

Sang Qiang saw Zhuo Nan’s gleaming white teeth and realized he was smiling, but a chill crept up his own spine.

Playing it cool, Zhuo Nan checked his digital watch. Sang Qiang wondered what he could possibly see in the darkness.

"It’s getting late, Sang Qiang. If you want to fight, let’s get started," Zhuo Nan said carelessly.

Sang Qiang’s lips twitched. "Screw you! Get him—cripple him!" With a wave of his hand, more than twenty men charged, brandishing machetes and iron rods.

You had to admit, Sang Qiang had learned his lesson. He knew he couldn’t beat Zhuo Nan one-on-one, so he opted for a group attack. And Zhuo Nan was injured—such a great opportunity couldn’t be missed.

Zhuo Nan felt the pain in his thigh disappear and smiled slightly. "Thanks."

With that, he sprang at the man running in front with a machete. The fellow had barely taken a step when Zhuo Nan kicked him to the ground. As he felled the first, he heard a rush of wind above his head. Dodging to the left, he avoided the blow and countered with an uppercut to the attacker's stomach. The man doubled over instinctively, and Zhuo Nan seized his head and flung him aside. A few behind reflexively caught their comrade.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Zhuo Nan leapt, kicked off the wall, and rebounded back, landing a sideways kick on the nearest thug, sending him flying into four more and knocking them all down.

Without pausing, Zhuo Nan charged at a foe on the ground, slamming both knees into his chest. The man screamed like a slaughtered pig. Zhuo Nan’s right fist smashed into his face with full force, blood spurting from his nose.

Snatching the iron rod from the stunned man, Zhuo Nan now had the upper hand. He was like a lion among sheep. Gripping the rod, he stared coldly at the men around him. In just moments, he had already incapacitated four. The others, afraid of hitting their own, didn’t dare rush in, which allowed Zhuo Nan to seize a weapon. Now, with it in hand, he was unstoppable, swinging the iron rod with a terrifying ferocity. Anyone rushing forward was knocked down, blood spraying, while the slightly more cautious ones still ended up rolling on the ground in pain.

Sweat beaded on Sang Qiang’s brow as he watched Zhuo Nan, blood-stained (though none of it his own), and felt despair. He’d thought this was his chance for revenge, but Zhuo Nan showed no sign of injury—he was a demon from hell.

Two henchmen remained, both petrified. They’d never seen one man take on over twenty. Worse, not one of their own had even touched Zhuo Nan’s clothes. Sang Qiang roared, "Go! Don’t just stand there, damn it!"

He shouted orders, but his own feet edged backward—he was about to run. But Zhuo Nan wasn’t about to let him escape. He hurled the iron rod with all his might, sending it flying like a cruise missile straight at Sang Qiang.

Sang Qiang, panicked, instinctively raised his arm to block. Flesh against iron—if it didn’t break his arm, it would at least leave him in agony. As Zhuo Nan threw the rod, he rushed to the two remaining henchmen, kicking one down. The other, seeing Zhuo Nan coming, swung his blade. Zhuo Nan sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and executed a shoulder throw, slamming him to the ground before kicking him in the ribs. A loud crack—those ribs were likely broken.

Now only Sang Qiang was left. As Zhuo Nan advanced, Sang Qiang began to tremble, then dropped to his knees with a thud. "Brother, I didn’t know who I was messing with. Please, let me go," he begged, slapping his own face as he spoke.

Of course Sang Qiang was terrified. He’d gathered all his men from the club, hoping to kill Zhuo Nan. Yet in less than ten minutes, they were all down. Such terrifying strength—right now, Sang Qiang feared nothing more than Zhuo Nan killing him. In this world, no matter how tough you act, when your life’s on the line, pride and status mean nothing—survival is all.

According to the usual script, Zhuo Nan would now laugh, point at Sang Qiang, and say, "So, you finally see how powerful I am?" Then he’d turn to leave, and Sang Qiang, still kneeling, would leap up to attack him from behind. That’s exactly what Sang Qiang planned.

But Zhuo Nan, with his super brain, never played by the rules. Sang Qiang’s petty schemes were laid bare before him.

"Go to hell!" Zhuo Nan kicked Sang Qiang, sending him rolling across the ground. He followed up, straddling Sang Qiang and pummeling him mercilessly—again and again, blood spraying with every blow, his knuckles slick with it.

Sang Qiang, utterly defenseless, began to lose consciousness. Even then, Zhuo Nan didn’t stop. Grabbing Sang Qiang by the collar, he hauled the man’s six-foot frame up and slammed his head against the wall. There was a sickening thud as skull met concrete.

"Zhuo Nan, that’s enough. His brain is in shock. Even if he survives, he’ll be a vegetable," the super brain intoned.

At that, Zhuo Nan finally stopped. Sure enough, Sang Qiang had passed out. All of Zhuo Nan’s blows had targeted his head—shock was the least of it.

Zhuo Nan released his grip, and Sang Qiang collapsed like a heap of mud—truly beyond saving. Scanning the scene, Zhuo Nan saw the rest—some unconscious, some writhing in pain, all out of the fight.

He asked, "Is there any way to make these people forget what happened tonight?"

"I can seal their memories. When they wake, they won’t remember a thing," the brain replied.

"Then I’ll trouble you to do it..."

"Come on, do we need such courtesy? Give me a moment..." The brain fell silent.

Zhuo Nan stood alone, watching as those on the ground gradually stopped moving, pain subsiding. Soon, they were completely still—the brain’s work was done.

With everything settled, Zhuo Nan prepared to leave. It was late, and although he’d told his family he was with Lan Qian, staying out too long would worry them. He glanced at Sang Qiang and asked, "What about him?"

The brain chuckled. "Even if he lives, he’ll be an idiot..."

Zhuo Nan nodded, then strode quickly out of the alley. Just after he left, in an old building not far away, at the third-floor window, a girl of about fifteen or sixteen stood, her large eyes bright, skin as pale as snow, features delicate. She wore cartoon pajamas and held a pair of binoculars. "Mom, there was a fight in the alley just now."

At her words, a beautiful woman in her thirties with long hair, wearing a white V-neck tank top and pink underwear, came to the window. Clear, bright eyes, slender brows, long lashes trembling gently, flawless skin with a hint of blush, lips like rose petals—she smiled as she closed the window and turned to her daughter. "That’s the underworld fighting. Don’t meddle—go to bed. You have school tomorrow."

The girl pouted and blinked her big eyes. "Mom, aren’t you cold, dressed like that?"

Her mother scolded, "It’s your fault—making a racket at night. I didn’t even have time to put on my pajamas." She took her daughter’s hand and led her away from the window.

"Mom, did you see? It was amazing! One man fought twenty-seven others!" The girl’s voice brimmed with excitement. Her mother frowned and said, "Don’t mention this again. If anyone asks, say nothing. Remember..." She trailed off.

The girl finished the sentence in her mother’s tone: "It’s better for a widow and her daughter to avoid trouble."

With that, she dashed away. Her mother paused, then laughed and chased after her. "You little brat—just wait until I catch you..."