Having secured a double kill, Zhang Wei calmly straightened his clothes and tied his belt, then looked towards the loudly banging door.
This door, made of who-knows-what material, was exceptionally sturdy, locked from top to bottom with three bolts.
The pounding from outside had gone on for over ten minutes, and aside from a slight deformation of the door frame, it remained firmly in place, showing no signs of being broken open.
“Damn it, how did the people outside know something happened here?” Zhang Wei surveyed the room.
Two women huddled in a corner, embracing each other and trembling, while the bastard who had taken a big slap from him was still twitching slightly on the floor, barely breathing—it looked like it was time for his friends and family to enjoy a funeral feast.
In the corner behind the door was another utterly useless idiot; his face alternated between green and pale, a pool of blood flowed down his leg, and he hadn’t passed out from the excruciating pain, tears streaming from his eyes—he was crying from the pain.
He didn't see any cameras or similar devices; besides surgical supplies, there was only a surgical cart and a large lamp overhead.
Zhang Wei observed for a long time but found no monitoring equipment, which meant these bastards had some way of notifying the people outside.
At this point, he was too lazy to pursue it, so he walked to the corner, picked up the useless wretch, and with a backhand, threw him out.
The kid probably didn’t weigh even a hundred pounds; Zhang Wei threw him with all his might, smashing him into the lamp, which immediately broke, plunging the room into darkness.
Standing behind the door, he removed two of the bolts inserted into it, then waited quietly.
Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation on his back; without thinking, he kicked his heel back, bent his knee, and fiercely thrust his foot out in a hooking kick.
This move was originally meant to kick the knee of someone attacking from behind; of course, the exact target varied depending on the terrain and the person, just like now.
One of the women Zhang Wei had just knocked down, taking advantage of the darkness in the room, had actually taken off her high heels and crept up behind him, holding a surgical knife, intending to stab him in the back.
Zhang Wei’s full attention was on the door, and he hadn’t expected this woman to dare try to stab him.
However, she was clearly overestimating herself; for someone who had begun practicing skin conditioning, his skin was like a cicada’s sensory organ, and within three feet of him, no subtle movement could escape him.
Calling it a “cicada’s sensory organ” was actually martial artists of ancient times flattering themselves; ultimately, it was just the “big fly sensory method.”
Anyone who has swatted a fly knows that quick strikes often miss, but slowly lowering your hand greatly increases your success rate. This is because a fly’s back is covered with fine hairs that can sense subtle air currents around it.
This is the principle behind why a master of skin conditioning is difficult to ambush: any air current within an inch of their body can be sensed, allowing for a rapid reaction.
Zhang Wei was over six feet tall, and the woman was five feet tall, so the position of his backward kick was off.
It landed precisely on the woman’s philtrum, sending her sprawling to the ground. Like her companion, she screamed and joined the Crotch-Guarding Sect.
This kick was incredibly vicious; the Japanese woman would at least end up with cervical erosion.
“Serves you right,” Zhang Wei spat.
At this moment, the impacts outside the door grew more intense; the door frame had deformed significantly inward, and it looked like it was about to be broken open.
He grabbed the Japanese man with the crushed testicles from the floor, gripped the surgical knife in his hand, and at the moment the door was breached, he violently pushed it outward.
Bang.
A gunshot!
Zhang Wei’s heart skipped a beat, but now that the arrow was on the string, he had no choice but to let it fly. He bent his upper body slightly and rushed out, sticking close to the man.
As he burst out, Zhang Wei’s peripheral vision quickly scanned the area, noticing three people on each side, all wearing security uniforms. Two of them had guns, while the other four held either steel forks or short clubs.
Immediately, he felt confident. He tightened his grip, exerting force, and hurled the human shield in his hand heavily at one of the armed men. He then took a step back, retreated into the room, and snatched the steel fork that was being thrust at him.
Bang!
Another gunshot rang out. Although Zhang Wei's reaction was already fast, only a small part of his body had just extended out, and in the act of throwing, he still delayed for a moment, getting shot in the arm, which instantly became a bloody mess.
At this moment of life and death, he had no time to check his injury. He pulled the steel fork in his hand back.
That person was not as strong as Zhang Wei and was pulled toward him.
This throw and pull, however, had a specific technique called “Spirit Cat Skill,” also known as “Iron Bag Skill” or “Water Dividing Skill,” which is a hard, external, Yang-based martial art.
This martial art specifically trains armpit strength and finger power. In its initial stages, one needs to tightly bind a row of old bamboo stalks and insert both palms into them, splitting them left and right, combined with daily practice of Iron Sand Palm. After prolonged training, a single push of the five fingers can burst open old bamboo stalks, and by touching an enemy’s body, one can lift them and throw them several zhang away. It is one of the main fundamental skills for grappling and pressure point striking in National Arts.
Just now, when Zhang Wei threw the human shield in his hand, one of the armed men on the left, along with two men holding short clubs, were knocked off balance and ended up tumbling over each other, forming a pile of four people.
Coupled with this reverse pull, the man holding the steel fork lost his footing and involuntarily took two steps toward Zhang Wei.
Zhang Wei grinned, and with a light shake, the steel fork was in his hand. He flipped it with his fingers, turning the fork around, and then thrust it heavily to the right.
Backhand thrust with a club.
There's nothing particularly fancy about this move; it's simply about brute force. The more power in your hand, the more pain you inflict. This U-shaped steel fork is standard security equipment, made of iron pipe, and has no elasticity. It's very effective for subduing criminals.
Zhang Wei’s thrust accurately struck one of the men on the right in the chest.
Crack.
Hiding behind the door, Zhang Wei clearly heard the sound of bones breaking. He pushed the steel fork in his hand forcefully, sending the man stumbling back several steps before he landed hard on the ground, cold sweat pouring, in too much pain to even scream.
This throw, pull, thrust, and push, all in a flash, instantly created a favorable situation.
The people on the left were piled together, and one security guard on the right was knocked down by his thrust.
Only one armed man was particularly cunning, standing diagonally opposite the door frame, aiming a handgun of unknown model at Zhang Wei, who was behind the door frame.
At this moment, the security guard with the steel fork at the main door finally staggered to Zhang Wei’s front.
Zhang Wei showed him no courtesy. He grabbed his hair, lifted his knee, and drove it into the security guard’s face.
“I’m giving your nuts a long vacation,” Zhang Wei murmured.
The security guard's face was covered in blood from Zhang Wei's knee strike; his entire nose had completely collapsed, turning his face into a flat plane.
At this moment, he still had a bit of consciousness, and hearing Zhang Wei's words, he was stunned. “What does that mean?”
Then he understood what it meant; the sudden excruciating pain in his crotch instantly sobered him up, and he involuntarily let out a pig-like scream, struggling desperately in Zhang Wei’s grasp.
Regarding crotch kicks, Zhang Wei stated that he had a little bit of research into them. This kick was extremely professional, ensuring that he would never need that thing again in the future.
