Chapter 83: Identity Exposed

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: Identity Exposed

Sprinting through the deserted city, Fang Can was the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

It was as if the so-called Human Clearance Plan had been tailor-made for him.

On this Carnival Day, a day that was supposed to be for thugs to hunt and kill civilians, the roles were now completely reversed.

Fang Can was like a massive crocodile storming a pond full of minnows. With no natural predators to speak of, he could cause widespread slaughter with ease.

It was as if he, an invasive species, was carrying out his own purge of the human thugs. Wasn’t this just another kind of Human Clearance Plan?

’According to Qu Hua, it won’t be long before I run into a superhuman I can’t match. When that happens, I might not be able to get away. I might as well help them clear out some enemies first.’

As he sprinted, Fang Can twisted his body to a halt. A squad of armed killers had grouped up to block his path.

"Stop! Don’t move!"

At the sharp command, Fang Can actually stopped in his tracks.

The thugs’ eyes were filled with wariness and unease.

Too many strange things had happened today, from the sudden explosion of an airplane to the thousands of people who had mysteriously fallen unconscious in the city center.

And now, they were faced with a handsome, barefoot youth casually strolling about on Carnival Day. The situation was utterly absurd.

"Hey, kid. Tell us where the civilians are hiding around here, and we’ll let you live," a thug threatened, pistol in hand.

In response to their question, the youth didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he broke into a dazzling smile.

THWUMP!

In an instant, a muffled thud echoed by their ears, sounding as if it had traveled from far away in a split second.

They saw a shockwave distorting the air shoot from Fang Can’s thumb, striking one of the thugs square in the head and knocking him to the ground.

Watching their comrade fall backward, every one of them felt their heart stop.

"What’s going on? Is this guy a superhuman?"

Before he could dwell on it, he heard a comrade yell, "He’s got superpowers! Open fire!"

Heeding their comrade’s shout, the thugs instinctively opened fire, unleashing a hail of bullets as if they were free.

RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT!

Along with a series of deafening cracks, a metal storm of whistling bullets hurtled toward Fang Can. In that instant, at least several hundred rounds were fired at him simultaneously.

Fang Can couldn’t even be bothered to dodge.

How could mere mechanical contraptions possibly compare to his flesh-and-blood body, which had been tempered a thousand times over?

His clothes, however, were merely mundane. Such a downpour of bullets would surely shred them to pieces.

In a flash, Fang Can’s right hand shot forward, its movement so fast it left hundreds of afterimages in the air.

’How is this possible...’

Terror filled their eyes as they watched, wide-eyed, while Fang Can caught every single bullet with one arm.

TING... TING... TING...

When the volley ended, a dense carpet of smoldering slugs already covered the ground at the youth’s feet.

Gazing at the somewhat slender youth before them, the thugs’ legs trembled. They knew they had picked a fight with the wrong person.

Before they could even think to kneel and beg for mercy, they heard his low voice drift over. "All done? My turn, then."

They looked up in astonishment and saw the youth holding a fistful of dozens of bullet slugs.

He bent his left arm across his body, rested his right hand on his left wrist, and squinted one eye, taking aim at them from a distance.

It was a pose they knew well—the same one they used to make as children, imitating movie characters taking aim to shoot.

THWUMP!

With a loud bang, a slug launched by the youth’s thumb shot forward at supersonic speed, piercing one man’s skull and sending him flying.

Only when his body slammed heavily onto the ground did they see that his skull had been shattered, the slug buried deep within his brain.

THWUMP! THWUMP! THWUMP!

In a single second, four or five slugs were flicked from the youth’s thumb in quick succession.

Each shot struck a comrade with pinpoint accuracy. A chilling horror rose from the depths of their hearts.

In the brief moment they were frozen in shock, seven or eight more of their comrades were dead, their brains blown out.

"R—run—! He’s a sup—"

Panicked cries erupted from their mouths, but their words were cut short before they could finish.

Because Fang Can fired too quickly. Four seconds later, as the last slug left his thumb, more than a dozen corpses lay on the ground, none having had the time to utter a final word.

Having dealt with this wave of enemies, Fang Can glanced up at the drone in the sky that had been sticking to him like glue, his expression turning sour.

"Tsk."

With a soft click of his tongue, he raised his hand and rewarded it with another slug.

After blowing one of the drones out of the sky, Fang Can continued on his way, heading in a new direction.

There were still plenty of thugs hiding in the city for him to clean up. It was not going to be a restful day.

"Who is this guy!"

In Akia, inside the Dragon Group headquarters, Ji Donglai stared at the screen that had dissolved into static after the drone was destroyed.

"Who is this superhuman?" he asked. "How come I’ve never seen him before?"

"And his name is Fang Can? The same name as the Fang Can from the Otherworld? He even displays characteristics of the Martial Dao and a Heart Image. How can there be such a coincidence?"

A young man beside him, stuffing his face with potato chips, mumbled casually, "How should I know? Z City is the King of Shitshows’ territory, and he’s in charge of Carnival Day, too. This has to be another one of his screw-ups."

Hearing the young man’s response and thinking about that guy’s personality, Ji Donglai figured this was exactly the kind of mess he would create.

"I’ll send him a message," Ji Donglai said, watching the feed from another drone. He felt he had to get some answers.

With that thought, he directly dialed the King of Shitshows’ number.

The phone had barely rung before it was answered. Ji Donglai spoke coldly, "This is Ji Donglai. What’s the deal with this Fang Can? Why haven’t I received your report?"

"Leader Ji, please hold on a moment. The King of Shitshows is currently singing in the broadcast hall. He gave orders that he is not to be disturbed by anyone during this time," an awkward voice replied from the other end of the line.

Ji Donglai: "..."

"The second he finishes that damn song, you tell him to call me back immediately," Ji Donglai said through gritted teeth.

After hanging up, the young man beside him spoke slowly, "So what do we do now? Are we going to bring this Fang Can in?"

"Someone whose Realm is improving this fast is most likely one of our own. If we bring him in and train him properly, it won’t be long before we have another national-level combatant."

"Leave him be. Let’s wait until this Carnival Day is over," Ji Donglai said, his eyes fixed on Fang Can on the screen. "In any case, we need to observe him first."

The young man finished his last potato chip and said, "I remember the King of Strength is over there, too. If they start fighting, given the power this kid’s showing, things might not go so well for him, you know?"

"It’s fine. It’s not like we don’t have any healers. We can always patch him up. Let the kid have his fun for a while."

"I think you just want to see a bloodbath," the young man said, giving the Dragon Group leader beside him a deadpan look.