Chapter 110: Fighting Bare-Handed Against the Enemy

"A single person? Are you certain?" Wen Tianming could not help but frown when he received this news. After a careful and thorough confirmation that the opponent was indeed entirely alone, Wen Tianming became even more puzzled.

The intruder wore a formal military uniform, was extremely young, and held the rank of first lieutenant. If his memory served him correctly, he looked very much like that young officer rumored to have come here to gild his resume. Furthermore, it seemed to be this exact fellow who had provoked and destroyed his base on television.

What was he here for? Walking right into a trap? That made no sense whatsoever. Based on his decades of experience operating in the Golden Five Star region, he simply could not fathom Zhao Li's intentions.

However, it seemed he no longer had the luxury of pondering this, as the explosions echoing around the poison-refining plant explained everything—this was a military assault!

Sanders and James cooperated with seamless precision. Aside from the military, very few factions here possessed decent aerial attack weaponry. Even if a few small flying vehicles existed, they could only transport personnel and could not mount heavy weapons. Therefore, the anti-aircraft defenses of the poison-refining plant were extremely limited, consisting merely of heavy machine guns capable of flat trajectory firing.

Yet despite this, those pitifully few anti-aircraft weapons were methodically eliminated one by one right at the outset. In an instant, James's warship met with virtually no restrictive fire and successfully reached the airspace above.

The dark, gaping muzzle of the autocannon pointed downward, yet it refrained from firing. This eerie spectacle left those who had been somewhat panicked by the destruction of the anti-aircraft defenses completely at a loss.

"You bastards dared to kill my men and break their limbs. Today, I've come to collect the debt!" Zhao Li's voice rang out right on cue. Accompanying the voice, the individuals hiding all around caught sight of a young officer carrying no weapons whatsoever, with only a police baton hanging from his belt, emerging before them and walking slowly in their direction.

Was this the fellow who had launched a solo raid? The members of the Black Prison still possessed a shred of mercenary experience. Seeing Zhao Li appear alone while the warship ceased its lethal attacks, and hearing his words, they instantly understood what was happening.

Understanding was one thing, but finding it ridiculous was entirely another. Charging into the territory of several hundred fully armed men, completely empty-handed, and shouting about collecting debts—if this wasn't a fool, what was?

One fellow raised his rifle and aimed directly at Zhao Li's figure. "Damn it, I'll kill you first!" Before his words had even faded, a gunshot rang out. The head of the man who had just spoken burst open like a bloody gourd, crimson blood and white brain matter splashing in all directions, splattering the faces and heads of those nearby.

While some shouted threats and attempted to resort to violence, Zhao Li immediately sprang into action. His figure, like a fierce tiger breaking out of its cage, lunged straight into the crowd.

A golden opportunity. Quite a few experienced fellows had been waiting for Zhao Li to charge into the crowd. That way, neither the snipers outside nor the warship overhead could fire indiscriminately. Zhao Li's charge had instead become their protective talisman.

Cries of agony rang out one after another. Facing these members of the Black Prison, Zhao Li showed not the slightest intention of holding back. With a police baton in one hand and executing tendon-separating and bone-dislocating techniques with the other, anyone grabbed by Zhao Li inevitably let out piercing, pig-slaughtering screeches.

Whether it was back in the temporary prison or disciplining the unruly soldiers in the barracks, Zhao Li had always relied on joint-locking techniques. Firstly, this neutralized the opponent's offensive capabilities, and secondly, these methods were easily recoverable compared to bone fractures, making them much less severe.

This time, however, Zhao Li was not nearly so merciful. Every time he seized an enemy's limbs, he either snapped them raw or beat them to a fracture with his baton without a shred of leniency.

The ones who rushed forward first were merely ordinary soldiers—or rather, they could not even be considered ordinary soldiers, simply commoners given a few days of training with rifles. Their true combat effectiveness was inferior even to the rowdy soldiers in the barracks.

The consequence of clashing head-on with Zhao Li was a chorus of ghostly howls followed by several men collapsing with broken hands and feet. After continuously snapping the limbs of a few individuals, none of the surrounding onlookers dared to rashly charge forward again.

However, their refusal to charge did not mean Zhao Li would let them off. Moreover, the men in the rear were surging forward like madmen, shouting at the top of their lungs, "Beat him to death! Beat him to death!"

Strength and courage both grew with numbers. Propelled by the mob behind them, the men in the front braced themselves and rushed forward once more. Those quick-witted enough to try raising their rifles found that the moment their gun barrels lifted, a bullet from an unknown source would blow their heads apart—without a single exception.

Standing in the doorway of a distant building, Wen Tianming watched this scene coldly, his expression shifting through a myriad of changes. No matter what was passing through his mind, standing beside him were two bodyguards who had escaped the old base with him. They had paid for the life of a brother with death, never expecting it would still fail to deal with this young commander, who had now launched a counter-attack right to their doorstep.

At this moment, because he could unleash his blows without restraint, Zhao Li felt an indescribable surge of exhilaration in his mind. The agonizing screams of the fellows whose limbs he broke acted like a stimulant, bringing him an even greater sense of pleasure. This uninhibited style of fighting was truly immensely gratifying. Even when subduing those criminals in the past, he had never experienced such unadulterated satisfaction.

His hand and foot movements felt as though an accelerator had been installed; they flowed like moving clouds and flowing water, entirely devoid of stiffness. No matter from which direction the enemies approached, Zhao Li always managed to use the surrounding mob to block attacks from behind, facing only one opponent at a time.

This skill in group brawls was entirely experience accumulated from several large-scale fights, achieved through no small amount of beatings along the way. Coupled with the heightened sensory awareness and boosted state brought on by his excitement, Zhao Li felt like a fish in water.

Originally, Zhao Li was not very familiar with the art of breaking an opponent's limbs. Yet after doing it a dozen times in succession, the perceptive Zhao Li seemed to discover the underlying pattern. Finding the leverage points became effortless, and the force required grew smaller and smaller, yet the objective was invariably achieved.

Hovering in the sky not far away, James monitored every move of the crowd below through the surveillance screen and kept a close eye on Zhao Li. Seeing how noticeably smoother Zhao Li's movements were becoming, he could not help nodding in approval while feeling a swell of inner delight.

Back when Zhao Li was being tormented by numerous instructors in the prison, he had only ever been taught simple killing techniques and never studied them in depth. And look at him now. Every time, he ruthlessly snapped his opponents' hands and feet; this level of viciousness was far more difficult than simply killing an adversary outright. The ultimate goal of training Zhao Li was to harden his heart and give him the courage to deal lethal blows to his enemies. Right now, he seemed not too far from that target.

The continuous stream of agonizing shrieks not only heightened Zhao Li's excitement but also caused the nameless true qi within his body to rage more violently. The condensed and substantial nature of his true qi had multiplied its quality severalfold compared to before, and his offensive power had likewise doubled.

The occasional blow he took, buffered by his bulletproof vest and the nameless true qi, felt no more than an itchy scratch, causing him zero pain, let alone injury.

The police baton in his hand functioned like an extension of his arm; wherever he pointed, it struck without the slightest deviation. Furthermore, Zhao Li's fluid technique dazzled the onlookers. Who would have thought a standard police T-baton could be wielded with such flamboyant flair, executed with crisp and clean motions? If Zhao Li hadn't been the enemy, quite a few people would likely have broken into applause.

Unfortunately, this police baton, paired with his empty left hand—which resembled the left hand of Satan—had already become a nightmare for everyone witnessing the scene. Looking cool, handsome, and dashing was one thing, but having that kind of assault land on one's own head was an entirely different matter. The dozens of fellows lying on the ground ahead, clutching their injuries and wailing, were definitely not there to play along with Zhao Li's performance.

Hearing the widespread screams from afar, Wen Tianming signaled his two bodyguards. The pair understood and plunged into the crowd. Since Zhao Li had come knocking for a one-on-one duel, there was no reason not to accept; otherwise, once word got out, the Black Prison would no longer be able to survive in the Golden Five Star region.

Everyone present was intelligent. While sniper bullets weren't necessarily terrifying, the horrific warship bombardment from earlier had shattered the courage of several men, including Wen Tianming himself. The military actually possessed such formidable weaponry and had managed to keep it concealed for so long. Had he known the military had deployed such arms here, Wen Tianming would have ensured all his subordinates behaved impeccably and avoided provoking the military by even a fraction. But it was too late for regrets now.

The warship hovering overhead clearly featured a cannon muzzle unlike the standard autocannon, glowing with an eerie blue light—a clear sign that the energy weapon had completed its charging phase and was merely awaiting fire. In other words, the moment too many of the men below violated the rules and resorted to heavy weapons, the attack from above would be unleashed without mercy.

Wen Tianming understood this threat, which was why the two bodyguards had entered the crowd without any intention of drawing weapons. They merely wished to exploit the chaos of the mob to deal Zhao Li a heavy blow and teach him a lesson.

As for the notion of gathering a massive army to storm the military camp, that thought had been cast to the winds the moment the warship appeared. If even the warship possessed such unnamable, terrifying weaponry, could the military camp be unprepared? Those who survived here did not remain long by being fools, and clearly, Wen Tianming was no fool.

For the military to send a lone man to launch such an inexplicable assault meant Wen Tianming had no idea what Zhao Li was plotting. However, it was indisputable that he was brutally thrashing the Black Prison's subordinates, and his methods were growing increasingly practiced and swift.

The surging battle intent not only failed to wane amid the screams of the crowd but instead climbed ever higher. These men clearly lacked any formidable martial arts prowess; even if Zhao Li wished to fully indulge himself in combat, they simply lacked the caliber to provide such an opportunity.

Suddenly, a different aura caught Zhao Li's attention. Not just one aura, but two. They emanated a bone-deep hatred, carrying a murderous intent that yearned to kill him and be done with it. This was an entirely different tier of crisis compared to the jeering and shouting of these small fry.

A flicker of realization crossed Zhao Li's mind, and he charged directly toward that direction. One bodyguard intended to launch a stealthy ambush from within the crowd, but seeing Zhao Li rapidly strike down the men in front of him and direct his attack toward him, he had no choice but to abandon the sneak attack and engage Zhao Li in close combat. As long as he could stall Zhao Li, he would buy his companion a chance to ambush him.

Zhao Li's previously infallible techniques seemed to lose half their effectiveness against this fellow. When the police baton lashed down, the man blocked it with a military dagger and even managed to generate a counter-shock force.

Involuntary excitement surged within Zhao Li—this was a true expert! The police baton in his hand moved with heightened frequency, raining blows down upon his opponent from overhead and compelling the man to rely entirely on his dagger for defense, leaving him zero opportunity to counterattack.

Amidst the melee, Zhao Li occasionally disposed of one or two ordinary mercenaries lunging from the flanks, yet he maintained absolute offensive initiative against this bodyguard, never granting the adversary a single opening.

This state of affairs caused the opponent battling Zhao Li to lose all face. Overwhelmed by a wave of frustration, the man seemed to reach a firm decision: disregarding the baton crashing toward his arm, he altered the trajectory of his dagger and lunged recklessly at Zhao Li's vital points.

Zhao Li appeared entirely prepared for this sudden change. Shifting his body sideways, his empty hand struck out and seized the wrist of the hand holding the dagger. A surge of internal force channeled through his hand, and the opponent's wrist instantly experienced a violent spasm akin to an electric shock. Losing his grip, the military dagger tumbled to the ground.

Several consecutive assaults left his opponent crying out in misery. Even James, forced to retreat after taking a single blow from Zhao Li, would have found this bodyguard no exception, as the man stumbled backward. However, failing to notice a wounded comrade on the ground, he tripped over the body and nearly fell forward.

How could Zhao Li let such a prime opportunity slip by? His figure surged forward rapidly, tailing the bodyguard closely, and his empty hand clamped onto the opponent's wrist.

*Crack.* The familiar sound traveled from Zhao Li's hand straight to his ears. The excruciating pain of a dislocated joint plunged the bodyguard into loud screams of agony. This time, Zhao Li did not dare to be overly confident and resorted to his most practiced joint-locking technique, tearing the opponent's wrist out of its socket.

With this single opening established, the subsequent attacks became exceedingly simple. Shifting to several other vulnerable areas—all of them joint locations—the crisp sounds of *crack, crack* echoed continuously, and the elbow and knee joints of the limbs were entirely snapped and dislocated by Zhao Li.

By this time, the second bodyguard finally managed to reach Zhao Li's rear. Seeing the scene before him, he flew into a towering rage. With a roaring shout, he charged forward like an enraged wild bull.

Compared to the previous fellow, this brute relied purely on brute strength devoid of technique. This was the easiest type of adversary to handle; Zhao Li merely pivoted slightly, causing the other bodyguard to lunge past him into empty space. Pausing briefly to dispose of two minor foot soldiers, he once again raised his baton against the remaining bodyguard.

*Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack*—these sounds rang out much faster than before. The large bodyguard stood frozen in place for a mere moment within the crowd before collapsing to the ground. Even after he fell, Zhao Li showed no mercy, replicating the treatment of the first bodyguard: all four limbs were thoroughly stripped of their joint alignment.

Having dealt with the two pseudo-experts, Zhao Li plunged into the remaining mob like a wolf entering a flock of sheep, invincible and unstoppable. Aside from a few quick-witted individuals who read the room and quietly slipped away to observe from a distance, anyone who dared charge forward was given a solid, thorough lesson by Zhao Li's police baton.