Chapter 113: Intimidation

The angry troop of monkeys surged turbulently overhead. The boy heard the rustling sounds above him and felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn’t understand why the man who had descended from the sky would deliberately provoke the lemurs, but he knew one thing: this man had come to save them. Without his intervention, by now the boy would have been nothing more than a pile of shredded flesh. Though the man’s motives puzzled him, the boy silently supported him.

The lemurs in the trees, incited by the man’s provocation, grew even more furious. Their piercing cries of “squeak, squeak” echoed from all directions, as if they sought to express their rage and discontent through sharp, relentless shrieks. They were clearly not a species adept at suppressing their emotions. Alongside their cries, they hurled wooden thorns and poisonous fruits at the man—the very instigator of this chaos, the one clutching a handgun.

“Scatter!” Seeing the deadly projectiles flying through the air, the man shoved three survivors aside. Strangely, as he pushed them, their bodies involuntarily stepped back just enough to narrowly avoid every flying thorn and poisonous fruit, which struck empty air. Thanks to his timely shove, the man also evaded all attacks from above.

“Close up.” The man glanced at the poisonous fruits exploding on the ground, gave a brief command, then leapt upward again, using the low branches to propel himself until he vanished atop the towering giant tree.

Moments later, a terrified “squeak, squeak” erupted once more from the foliage. The man leapt down again.

Bang!

After a brief display in midair, the man fired a shot that shattered a lemur’s skull, the motion identical to the previous time.

Following this second strike, the lemur cries diminished significantly. Sensing the man’s invincibility, the troop stirred uneasily in the canopy. Some let out shrieks before fleeing, while a few stubborn ones stubbornly launched another assault from above.

But once again, the outcome was inevitable.

The man caught another lemur mid-flight in the treetops and shattered its skull with a single shot.

After repeating this three times, the lemur troop fell completely silent. These fierce creatures lost all will to attack, lingering briefly in place before, upon the fourth gunshot, screaming in terror and fleeing the area entirely.

Listening carefully, the boy saw the man lower his weapon after confirming the lemurs’ departure.

“Thank you for saving our lives.” Once certain they were safe, the three survivors bowed deeply in gratitude.

A life saved is a great debt—no matter how morally lost one might be, gratitude to a lifesaver is inevitable in such moments.

“No need to thank me. I just happened to pass by and saw you under attack. Helping when I can is only natural,” the man said with a stern expression, nodding at them. “Do you have more companions? Why were you wandering in this jungle so late at night? It’s dangerous.”

“We got lost,” one of the survivors explained. “We were attacked by insects. Two team members carrying compasses were eaten down to the bone. Our formation was broken, and we lost the compasses… so...” He sighed heavily.

“As for the others, they were poisoned. We don’t know if they can be saved.”

“We’ll see.” The man led the way toward the trap site where the team had been caught, as if already familiar with what had transpired.

The three survivors followed silently, puzzled but refraining from asking too many questions. They arrived at the scene.

The man scanned the ground strewn with bodies and checked the survivors’ breathing. Only two still clung to life. He then retrieved a metal box from his back pocket and took out two doses of antidote.

“This is for the poisoning. Not sure if it will work,” he told them, injecting the needle into the two men barely hanging on.

“Carry them. I’ll lead you out of the jungle.” After administering the antidote, the man handed the two near-death companions to his allies and started walking ahead.

“Follow me.”

He moved steadily forward, leaving a guiding silhouette.

The three survivors hurried to keep up, bearing their injured friends.

They traveled in silence. This man seemed well acquainted with the forest paths. Whether it was luck or other reasons, none of them encountered further danger. After over an hour’s walk, the trees began to thin—the sign of safety.

“We’ve arrived. I’m leaving now,” the man said at the jungle’s edge. “Ahead is New Zhengzhou City. You know the way from here.”

“We do,” they nodded. “How can we ever thank you for saving us?”

“No thanks needed. People die every day now; saving one here or there is nothing,” he said, attempting a smile, but his stiff facial muscles made it an awkward grimace. “If you have time, come have a drink at the Smile Bar—I’m the owner.”

“The Smile Bar?” they echoed, eyeing his strained smile.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?” the boy asked.

“Oh, I’m Liu Chang.” He seemed aware of how unconvincing his smile was and quickly reverted to a serious expression. “If those two survive, have them come to the bar to settle the bill. The antidotes are expensive—about 170,000 New City Coins on the market. If they don’t make it, then forget it.”

With that, Liu Chang waved the group off. “I have family waiting. See you.”

He sprinted toward New Zhengzhou City, leaving the survivors exchanging bewildered looks.

...

The Smile Bar.

Late at night, the patrons were deep in their cups. Many had passed out; the once lively chatter had faded into murmurs. In a corner, a woman with a hooked nose glanced at the one-armed man’s watch, knowing closing time neared.

Just as she rose, a figure pushed open the door.

“I’m back.”

Liu Chang entered, looking over the sprawled, drunken bodies and at the table broken from a punch.

“Heh, quite the ruckus,” Liu Chang said, approaching the damaged table and eyeing the drunks. “Someone’s paying for this.”

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