Chapter 53: The Ironhead Gang

"It's you!"

Shen Xin made his decision without hesitation. Glancing at the time, he saw it was already midday. After having lunch with Yu Yanan, he took his combat suit, hopped on his little electric scooter, and headed for Fallen Street.

When he neared Fallen Street, he hid his scooter, donned his black combat suit, put on a full-face helmet, and sought out a hidden path that would lead him directly to the Ironhead Gang’s headquarters—the Gathering Hall!

The Gathering Hall was a six-story building, not tall but with an impressive footprint, probably covering five or six hundred square meters.

He looked up at the building, strode boldly toward the main entrance, but was stopped by two security guards at the door.

"Hey, friend, what business do you have here?"

The guards eyed Shen Xin's tightly wrapped figure and instantly recognized trouble. There was no way they could let him in.

Shen Xin grinned. "I just need to borrow your boss’s head for a bit."

"Well, aren’t you bold, kid! Guys, we've got trouble!"

With a loud shout, over a dozen thugs holding iron rods streamed out from the billiard hall on the first floor.

"Is this all you’ve got?" Shen Xin asked, dissatisfied.

"It’s more than enough to take you down. Boys, get him!"

Shaking his head, Shen Xin activated a minor spatial distortion, targeting each of them. Instantly, their bodies spun furiously in all directions, moving so fast they left afterimages behind—dozens, even hundreds of rotations each second, constantly changing direction.

Within ten seconds, the thugs collapsed to the ground, convulsing. The weaker ones had already passed out; the stronger ones were dizzy, bleeding from every orifice, soiling themselves, and vomiting helplessly. Even if they recovered, they’d be left simple-minded—their brains had been thoroughly scrambled.

"A bunch of trash! Is there no one stronger? I’m here to challenge your sect—where is everyone?"

"Who’s making all this noise? Tired of living, are you?"

Suddenly, the glass door of the card room to the left on the first floor was kicked open, and a dozen burly men with pistols emerged.

"It’s me," Shen Xin replied, smiling. "So what if I’m arrogant? If you’ve got the nerve, shoot me!"

"To hell with you! Boys, fire!"

Shen Xin teleported out of the way and unleashed a major spatial distortion. The gunmen howled in agony as their legs stretched three or four meters long, their necks pulled over a meter, their bodies twisted into grotesque shapes or crumpled into meatballs.

A few seconds later, Shen Xin stopped. The gunmen had turned to lifeless pulp, lying limply on the ground like heaps of jelly.

He strolled over and poked one with his finger. "Well, how amusing. Quite bouncy, too."

Entering the main hall, he glanced at the billiard room to his left. The remaining thugs were already terrified, having lost control of their bladders and shaking as they lay prone on the floor. Shen Xin looked away and gazed into the card room.

Inside, a few garishly dressed women gaped in horror, mouths wide open in silent screams.

Once again, flying knives flashed through the air.

In a streak of light, blood lines blossomed across the women’s throats. Shen Xin didn’t bother to look back—these women were likely madams, hardly worth pitying. He strode deeper inside.

Beyond the billiard and card rooms, the first floor held a canteen and several offices. Shen Xin glanced around, saw only some cleaning ladies and kitchen staff, and spared them, continuing to the second floor.

At the stairway corner on the second floor, more than ten men armed with AKs opened fire without warning.

Shen Xin teleported behind them and unleashed another spatial distortion.

This time, he acted faster. In three seconds, he was done. The gunmen didn’t turn to mush, but their brains had turned to tofu, flung out of their skulls by the force.

He’d gone even harder on them this time.

The second floor had many rooms, but he couldn’t be bothered to search each one. Whenever he spotted someone near a window, a flying knife took them out.

Half a minute later, he climbed to the third floor.

The corridor was packed with people. To either side stood a shirtless, tower-like man.

The two giants didn’t hesitate, attacking him simultaneously with fists the size of sandbags.

Shen Xin didn’t face them head-on. He teleported to the stairwell between the third and fourth floors, then cast a wide-area spatial distortion.

This time, the effect swept in dozens. In seconds, only the two towering men remained, kneeling in pools of blood, while the rest had become gelatinous masses, their bones ground to powder.

"Well, well—ability users, are you?"

Shen Xin eyed the two bleeding, half-kneeling giants with interest. He showed no mercy—a pair of flying knives flashed, severing their heads.

Onward to the third, fourth, and fifth floors.

The higher he went, the fewer people there were—but the danger increased. The defenders brought out machine guns, rocket launchers, and grenades, but against someone who could teleport like Shen Xin, these were all but useless. Besides, his bulletproof suit protected him from stray shrapnel, and his formidable physique and regenerative powers made him nearly invulnerable.

Not much could truly harm him.

He strolled leisurely up to the sixth floor.

Waiting for him were a pair of Gatling guns.

But in the next instant, the guns fell silent—the gunners themselves had been twisted into a ball of flesh.

Shen Xin sighed. "Who would have thought such a small-time gang would have so many heavy weapons, even ability users? And the bounty is only thirty million? How is that fair? The price needs to go up, definitely!"

After dealing with the guards at the stairway, he headed up to the very top floor, where five men awaited him.

Three were burly, bald giants, their heads covered in thick calluses—clearly, they’d trained Iron Head Kung Fu. These three were the Ironhead Gang’s leaders.

Standing before them were two men—conjoined twins, to be precise—bodies fused together, two heads, four arms, but only two legs.

The sight was unspeakably bizarre.

One of the bald men, his beard flecked with gray, took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. "Friend, how much were you paid? Whatever the sum, I’ll double it—just let us go."

Shen Xin shook his head. "I have professional ethics, you know."

"Ten times!"

"No deal. I don’t need the money."

"So there’s nothing to discuss?"

Shen Xin considered for a moment. "Unless you can give me something truly tempting."

The gray-bearded man secretly sighed with relief and smiled. "Women? Elixirs? Techniques?"

"You have elixirs and techniques?"

Shen Xin was genuinely surprised. He hadn’t expected even a gang like the Ironheads to have such things.

"I don’t, but my boss can get them."

"Useless talk!"

Shen Xin struck—a large-scale spatial distortion engulfed them.

In a heartbeat, all five men turned to dust where they stood.

But to Shen Xin’s surprise, the conjoined twins managed to escape, carrying a bald man on their back as they leapt from the top floor.