Chapter Fifty-Six: Those Who Follow Me Thrive, Those Who Oppose Me Perish...

***Please add to your favorites***

Ghostman Chao could hardly bear to look at the miserable state of Pig Biao and Black Bear. Pig Biao lay sprawled on the ground, his face covered in blood, bleeding bubbles forming at his lips, and an indistinct shoe print stamped across his cheek. Black Bear, lying nearby, had a face so swollen he was almost unrecognizable—one could sum it up in a single phrase: after Zhuang Nan’s beating, not even his own mother would have known him.

Zhuang Nan approached Black Bear, gazing down at him and pointing at Black Bear’s right hand. “That was the hand you used to grab that woman last time. Now, I’m here to return the favor…” His words pierced Black Bear’s heart like a shard of winter ice.

Black Bear was powerless to fight back, his terrified eyes wide. He knew that Zhuang Nan could kill him with ease, and pleaded, “No, no… ah—”

With a sickening crack, Zhuang Nan brought his right foot down hard, crushing Black Bear’s right hand into pulp. Blood sprayed, flesh and bone became indistinguishable, and Black Bear rolled on the ground, clutching what was left of his arm.

From a distance, Ghostman Chao closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the impression Zhuang Nan had left on him. If he considered himself second in ruthlessness, then Zhuang Nan was first. That single stomp had turned a living man’s hand to shreds—not to mention the sheer force it took, Ghostman Chao doubted he himself had the nerve to do such a thing.

Zhuang Nan glanced indifferently at Black Bear, who writhed and wailed, then strode over again. Black Bear, helpless and broken, was now no more than a lamb waiting for slaughter. Zhuang Nan could take his life at any moment, but he had no intention of letting him die so easily. To torture him—to let him die slowly—was the better way.

He hoisted Black Bear from behind, seized his only unbroken left arm, pressed his right forearm against Black Bear’s elbow, and wrenched backward. With another crack, Black Bear’s left arm was ruined, swinging uselessly back and forth, attached only by a shreds of flesh.

Black Bear shrieked like a slaughtered pig, collapsed to his knees, and sobbed brokenly. Now, his greatest wish was for Zhuang Nan to end it quickly. But Zhuang Nan would not grant him even that mercy—he would drag out the suffering.

Witnessing the scene, Ghostman Chao’s spirit nearly broke. “Nan… Brother Nan, please, just let him go quickly…” All the airs of a gang boss had left him; before Zhuang Nan, he was nothing but a dog, a whimpering, groveling dog.

Zhuang Nan cast Ghostman Chao a sidelong glance and shook his head with a faint smile. “Fatty, what right do you have to order me? Better worry about yourself.” With that, Zhuang Nan drew his hand into a blade and chopped at Black Bear’s throat.

Black Bear’s cries ceased, his swollen eyes struggling to open and fix on Zhuang Nan.

“What, still not convinced?” Zhuang Nan walked closer, held up two fingers before Black Bear, and said coldly, “Perhaps I should dig them out…”

Black Bear shook his head desperately, not wanting to endure this torment any longer. He wished for death, but Zhuang Nan would not let him have it so easily.

“Zhuang Nan, that’s enough. Ghostman Chao’s mind has already collapsed…” The voice sounded in his mind.

Zhuang Nan looked up at Ghostman Chao in the distance; his face was ashen, his legs trembling. Zhuang Nan knew Ghostman Chao’s defenses had been shattered. There was no need to continue torturing Black Bear.

Some say violence is not the best way to subdue someone—it may force submission for a while, but not for long. But Zhuang Nan disagreed. The problem wasn’t violence, but the lack of ruthlessness. If you aren’t ruthless enough, of course your enemies won’t fear you. But if you are cold-blooded enough, and make them realize they could never surpass you, then you succeed.

There’s another saying: it’s not that I’m loyal, but that the temptation is insufficient. The greater the lure, the less the loyalty. In truth, both sayings mean the same: to control someone is not just to control their body, but to crush their spirit.

Unfortunately for Black Bear, he became the sacrifice in Zhuang Nan’s demonstration, his ordeal shattering Ghostman Chao’s mental defenses.

“Fatty, these two are your men… Send them on their way,” Zhuang Nan said, drawing a small knife from his pocket and tossing it at Ghostman Chao’s feet.

Ghostman Chao bent down, his left hand trembling as he picked up the knife. His dull eyes stared at Zhuang Nan, who jerked his head toward Black Bear’s position. With leaden legs, Ghostman Chao trudged over to Black Bear.

Looking at Black Bear, who knelt before him, Ghostman Chao felt utterly helpless. Zhuang Nan seemed to have descended from the heavens—a devil incarnate on the underworld stage of Deqing. In Ghostman Chao’s eyes, Zhuang Nan was a demon he could never surpass.

“Do it. What are you waiting for?” Zhuang Nan’s unhurried words sounded like a death sentence in Ghostman Chao’s ears. Though it was Black Bear’s fate that hung in the balance, Ghostman Chao knew that if he disobeyed, his own life would be forfeit too. Now, he was nothing more than a cur groveling beneath Zhuang Nan’s heel.

“Black Bear… I’m sorry…” Ghostman Chao steeled himself under Black Bear’s despairing gaze, raised the knife, and with a single motion, cut Black Bear’s throat.

Black Bear’s blood spattered across Ghostman Chao, but without hesitation, he turned toward Pig Biao, who still lay on the ground.

Pig Biao was not dead, only incapacitated. Having witnessed Black Bear’s fate with his own eyes, he could only hope for a quick end at Ghostman Chao’s hand. He mustered all his strength to make his voice louder: “Brother Chao… please… give me a quick death…” With those words, he closed his eyes.

Ghostman Chao felt wretched. He was ruthless, yes—otherwise he would never have become Deqing’s number one—but today he learned, there is always someone stronger. Compared to Zhuang Nan, he was nothing.

No point in thinking further—Zhuang Nan was right there, watching. Ghostman Chao had no choice but to obey, to kill Pig Biao as ordered, hoping to survive beneath Zhuang Nan’s tyranny.

With a wild scream, Ghostman Chao stabbed Pig Biao three times in the back. If one looked closely in that moment, one might have seen a look of satisfaction on Pig Biao’s face.

With a clatter, Ghostman Chao let the knife fall from his hand and stared blankly at Pig Biao’s lifeless, bleeding body. He seemed to age decades in an instant, collapsing in defeat.

Applause sounded behind him. Zhuang Nan approached, a small camcorder in hand, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Fatty, that was quite the performance.”

Startled, Ghostman Chao stammered, “Brother Nan, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” Zhuang Nan said with a careless laugh. “Just making a little recording… for future enjoyment.”

“You’re a devil…” Ghostman Chao lunged at Zhuang Nan in a frenzy.

“Fuck off!” Zhuang Nan dodged easily and kicked Ghostman Chao to the ground.

Zhuang Nan stared coldly at Ghostman Chao, who gasped on the ground, his voice devoid of emotion. “Fatty, remember what I said—those who follow me prosper, those who defy me perish.”

“Now, there’s a barrel of gasoline over there. Go take care of the two piles of meat on the floor,” Zhuang Nan ordered, pointing to the barrel.

What else could Ghostman Chao say? He had become nothing more than a sheep fattened for slaughter, his most trusted lieutenants—one mad, one imprisoned, and these two dead by his own hand. What arrogance did he have left?

He could only obey, as Zhuang Nan had said: those who follow me prosper, those who defy me perish.