Trapped in the Same Day for a Thousand Years

Chapter 278: And It’s Going to Blow Up Big!

by cnwebnovels

Wu Chen’s knee was already up for the kick. At that ghostlike shriek his movement paused.

Then, quite naturally, he set his foot down.

The white-haired young man’s face really did look as though he had seen a ghost.

The alley was too dark. Only at close range had he seen Wu Chen’s face clearly. He had never met him, but he had seen his photograph.

So he recognized him at once.

Terror.

Absolute terror.

His arm stayed high, the baton still clenched in his fist, and yet his whole body seemed pinned in place. He stared at Wu Chen with wide eyes. It was not only his hair that was white now; every trace of color had left his face.

His name was He Ming, nickname Whitehead. He was twenty years old and headed the security crew at Night Owl Bar.

Anlong Street was known as a bar street, and the man responsible for affairs in that area was Yu Hailiang, called Big Liang in the underworld, though some said Brother Liang.

Yu Hailiang was He Ming’s immediate boss.

And Yu Hailiang’s boss was one of Crooked Zhao’s trusted lieutenants.

Crooked Zhao was one of the Four Giants of Donghai’s underworld.

And above Crooked Zhao stood the famous Young Master Li of Donghai—Li Ruotai.

Which meant Wu Chen was, to He Ming, his boss’s boss’s boss’s—

brother-in-law.

There were countless rumors about Wu Chen in Donghai’s underworld now. People talked about his background, about his relationship with Li Ruobing, and even the story that Young Master Li was somewhat afraid of his own brother-in-law had begun to circulate. The lower down the hierarchy you went, the wilder the telling.

Major underworld figures like Crooked Zhao and Wang Zhuangyuan had both passed warnings down through their ranks. Keep your eyes open. Make sure you could recognize Wu Chen. Offending him would be more serious than offending Young Master Li himself.

He Ming had seen Wu Chen’s photograph because of those warnings, passed down level by level. Anyone with even a minor supervisory role had seen the picture.

He Ming had it on his phone right now. His boss, Yu Hailiang, had sent it to him.

“You know me?” Wu Chen asked mildly, slipping one hand into his pocket out of habit.

Clang!

He Ming’s arm was still raised, but he could no longer even keep hold of the baton. It struck the ground with a bright clatter, and in the silent alley the sound seemed unbearably loud.

Thump!

His knees gave out. He dropped straight down in front of Wu Chen.

No one could understand the fear he felt in that moment. He was a low-level minor boss who rarely so much as laid eyes on Crooked Zhao, let alone spoke to him. Standing before the famous Mr. Wu, he could not summon even the thought of resistance, and his mind had already narrowed to a single question.

How was he going to die?

That was all he could think about.

He was so frightened he had begun to shake.

Tonight was too serious. They had not been able to beat Wu Chen, but they had surrounded him and attacked him. To He Ming’s mind the matter was already past any hope of settling.

“M-Mr. Wu, I… I didn’t know… it was you… I…”

He struggled to speak. Even his voice shook.

The more deeply a man lived in the underworld, the better he understood what happened when you offended someone truly powerful. There was no room left even for wishful thinking.

Thump!

The four or five thugs nearby who were still standing dropped to their knees one after another. Wu Chen had not even looked at them yet, let alone dealt with them.

They had already been reluctant to attack. When He Ming led the final charge, they had meant to follow him and swarm Wu Chen one last time. But the instant He Ming shouted “Mr. Wu,” they stopped with him.

Their faces changed on the spot. They had heard of Mr. Wu too, and at first they clung to the hope that He Ming had recognized the wrong man.

Only when He Ming dropped straight to his knees did they understand. He had not made a mistake.

So they knelt as well. Standing would only make them conspicuous.

And they understood something else. If this went badly, it might even reach Master Zhao. It was far beyond anything a man at He Ming’s level could shoulder.

“Mr. Wu, please spare me, spare me, I was wrong… please, spare me…”

Fear and nerves had made He Ming’s speech fast and disordered.

And as he spoke he suddenly reached into his clothes and pulled something out.

Clatter!

His hand was shaking so badly that the thing fell to the ground. A folded butterfly knife.

He snatched it up again—an act that could easily have been taken the wrong way. He actually dared draw a blade now.

But his mind had narrowed to one track. His head was buzzing. He was no longer capable of complicated thought.

He flicked the knife open.

Still kneeling, He Ming planted his left hand on the ground. With the butterfly knife held in a reverse grip in his right, he stabbed down and pulled.

Slice!

He cut off his own little finger.

He did not scream. The flesh of his face merely twitched. It almost seemed as though it barely hurt. The flood of adrenaline let him ignore most of the pain for now.

“Mr. Wu, I was wrong, Mr. Wu!”

He was still trembling as he said it, looking up with pleading eyes.

Wu Chen had never told him to cut off a finger. He had mentioned no rule.

He Ming had done it himself.

But the idea had not come from nowhere. There was precedent.

Bearded Liu, one of Crooked Zhao’s trusted men, had once offended Wu Chen. In the end Bearded Liu had cut off a finger in apology. That story had long since spread through the underworld.

He Ming was one of Crooked Zhao’s men too, only far lower in rank. He had no idea whether the same thing would work.

He simply could not think of anything else. Terrified out of his mind, he had chosen the most extreme option immediately.

Wu Chen looked at him in silence for a moment. Then he tipped his head toward the wall.

“Face the wall.”

He Ming understood at once, and relief flooded him. He was nearly overjoyed, though he did not dare let it show.

Wu Chen was not going to make things hard for him.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

He scrambled to the wall, knelt properly, faced it, and put both hands over his head.

Wu Chen swept his gaze over the others still kneeling.

They copied He Ming instantly, scrambling to the wall, kneeling, facing it, hands over their heads.

In the underworld it was a posture heavy with meaning. Complete, defenseless submission.

“Go. Go, go, go.”

A faint voice sounded more than ten meters away.

The four rich kids, two young men and two young women. They had been utterly dumbfounded. What Mr. Wu? Why was everyone suddenly kneeling? Why had someone cut off his own finger?

Then the punk-haired young man leading them seemed to remember something, and he whispered hurriedly to the others, telling them to run.

The four had only just turned and were trying to leave without making a sound.

“Did I say you could go?”

Wu Chen turned his head and glanced at them.

All four froze. Then, slowly, they turned around and looked at him.

The two girls and the other young man were visibly uneasy. The punk-haired leader was frightened, because he had remembered who Mr. Wu was. His father had mentioned him before.

“You start trouble and then think you can just leave?” Wu Chen asked mildly.

The other three had no idea what to say. Uneasy, they all looked toward the punk-haired young man.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Then he forced out a smile uglier than crying.

“Mr. Wu, we… we didn’t do anything…”

He genuinely did not know what to say. But the moment the words were out, an idea came to him.

“Mr. Wu, w-we were just passing by. We stopped to watch. We don’t know them…”

Wu Chen looked at him.

Only looked. He said nothing.

The punk-haired young man’s throat worked. He could not stand under Wu Chen’s gaze and the weight of his presence.

In truth Wu Chen was projecting no particular presence at all. But because the young man knew who he was, he felt it there.

He looked at Wu Chen, then away. His eyes flicked to He Ming and the others kneeling at the wall, then to the men lying all over the ground.

Scrape.

The toe of his shoe dragged across the pavement as he shifted a step. Then he quickened his pace, hurried to the wall, knelt, faced it, and put both hands over his head.

The other three rich kids took a moment to catch up. Then they copied him, going to the wall and kneeling with their hands over their heads.

The alley fell silent.

Even the men whose bones Wu Chen had broken lay on the ground bearing the pain without a sound, playing dead. They had seen enough and understood enough. Lying there seemed safest.

“Make the calls,” Wu Chen said suddenly.

And having left them that, he turned and walked toward the alley mouth.

He was telling them to call people. Because this was not over.

And it was going to blow up big.

The reason it would become such a large affair was the couple they had chased and beaten. The short-haired young man and the girl in the black dress had identities that were very, very far from ordinary.

If the two of them had actually been badly hurt, even Li Ruotai might have had enormous difficulty settling it.

Which was also why Wu Chen had chosen to meddle.