Chapter 121: Ambush

Long Fei was not in a hurry despite the ambush. He exchanged five million RMB for chips, which amounted to about sixty million yen. He placed several bets at the roulette table and, having decent luck, won a few million. He then moved to a Pai Gow table, but after a few rounds, his luck turned, and he lost heavily. Like all gamblers, Long Fei wanted to win back his losses, so he kept betting until the entire sixty million was gone in the blink of an eye.

Slipping out of the crowd, Long Fei grumbled to himself, thinking about exchanging for more chips. Since Ye Wentian had given him a hundred million to squander, and he had only spent a twentieth of it, he did not feel much heartache. However, after walking only a few steps, he was intercepted by a man.

The man did not look like a casino employee. His gaze was cold and piercing, which made Long Fei feel uncomfortable, though he could tell at a glance that the man was quite skilled.

"Hello, may I ask if you are Long Fei from China?" the man asked, recognizing him.

Long Fei was not surprised. Considering he had killed two of the Black Dragon Society's top generals, it was no wonder they knew his identity. They likely assumed he was merely Ye Wentian's bodyguard, never dreaming he was the notorious Azure Dragon.

"That's right," Long Fei said with a faint smile, curious about the man's intentions.

"Please come with me; our chairman wishes to see you!" The man nodded and turned to leave.

Long Fei paused, laughing, "Your chairman wants to see me? Did he know I was coming?"

"Our chairman knows many things. Now, please, come with me!" The man walked away, and Long Fei had no choice but to follow.

Entering the elevator, Long Fei was surprised to see the man press the button for the third basement level instead of the sixth floor. Looking at the elevator directory, Long Fei realized the Black Dragon Society had three underground levels, and he was heading to the lowest one.

"Does your Black Dragon Society prefer living in the shadows? Why hide underground? Haha!" Long Fei chuckled. He was not afraid of the man, nor was he worried about provoking them. He was there to cause trouble anyway, and he needed an excuse to do so.

The man smiled coldly and remained silent. In an instant, they reached the third basement level. When Long Fei stepped out, the man did not follow. Instead, he sneered, "Follow this corridor, go through the main gate, and you will be there. Good luck!"

With those words, the man closed the elevator doors. Long Fei wandered around, failing to find any emergency exit to get back upstairs, and nearly became disoriented in the maze-like layout. Finally finding the elevator entrance again, he pressed the button, but there was no response. Instead, a voice came from a speaker overhead—the man’s voice: "Mr. Long Fei, you should be entering the gate I mentioned, not running around aimlessly. I can see your every move. Once you emerge from that door, you can consider heading back up. Goodbye!"

Long Fei finally understood that he had been tricked into coming down here. There was no telling how many people were waiting behind that door to take his life. Yet, once this thought crossed his mind, he relaxed. He was not afraid; at worst, he would just kill a few more people. Although he had suffered a slight setback under Abe Hiromi’s hands earlier, he believed that as long as no other monster like him appeared, he was fully capable of handling any assassin, including ninjas.

Since he was already here, he might as well face it.

Long Fei no longer felt embarrassed about going back up; doing so would only make him look cowardly. In fact, he was secretly pleased. He had come to stir up trouble and was struggling to find an excuse, so if the Black Dragon Society wanted to make the first move, he would be happy to unleash a massacre. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a good fight, and he feared he might forget how to kill if he did not warm up soon.

Swaggering to the large iron gate at the end of the corridor, Long Fei listened carefully. There was not a sound inside, not even the breath of a living soul. He pushed the door open to reveal a spacious hall, nearly a thousand square meters in size. As soon as he stepped inside, the iron gate behind him slowly closed.

Long Fei scanned his surroundings cautiously. The room appeared completely sealed except for the gate. Dozens of marble pillars stood scattered throughout the hall, slightly obstructing his view.

Long Fei smiled coldly; it seemed the Black Dragon Society intended for this to be his final resting place. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard movement. Thirty-two figures suddenly emerged from behind the pillars, all dressed in black suits and white shirts, much like Ye Wentian's bodyguards.

Thirty-two men, thirty-two guns—it was quite a shock for Long Fei.

Damn, was this really necessary? Thirty-two guns were far more practical than a few submachine guns. If all thirty-two were sharpshooters, it would be truly terrifying; an ordinary person would have been shredded instantly.

Long Fei moved. As soon as he did, the thirty-two handguns opened fire simultaneously. Had he not moved fast enough, he would have truly been turned into a sieve.

Utilizing his supreme movement techniques, Long Fei lunged toward a nearby marble pillar, snapped the neck of one assassin, and dropped the body. He snatched the gun that fell to the floor and fired back, dropping three assassins instantly. However, a hail of bullets whistled past his ears.

These men were not expert marksmen, but their aim was surprisingly accurate.

Long Fei cursed under his breath. Hiding behind the pillar, he tossed the corpse out to distract the assassins. Seizing the moment, he peeked out and fired again, taking down three more. He had planned to kill four, but his gun ran out of ammo. He inwardly regretted not scavenging for more magazines from the fallen.

As soon as Long Fei stopped firing, the remaining assassins, as if sensing he was out of ammo, peeked out from behind their pillars and began closing in while firing.

Long Fei sneered. If you don't show your teeth, they treat you like a sick cat!

He pushed off the ground, vaulting three meters high. He pressed himself against the marble pillar like a gecko, remaining perfectly still. He was waiting for an opportunity. He decided not to use guns anymore; he would use his hands. He believed there was no weapon in the world more reliable than his own hands.

The remaining twenty-some assassins fired in unison, weaving a dense web of fire. Had the marble not been so sturdy, it would have been pierced through long ago. When the twenty-six guns stopped firing, the assassins seemed confused. Long Fei had been hiding behind the pillar; how had he suddenly vanished?

This was the opportunity Long Fei had been waiting for. Taking advantage of their hesitation, he pushed his movement technique to the limit. Like a blur, he lunged at the nearest man, punching his head with such force that it nearly sank into his neck. Brain matter and blood sprayed everywhere. Before anyone could see clearly, the blur flashed again, and another assassin collapsed after a chop to the neck.

Long Fei was like a ghost, flickering unpredictably. His speed was so great that the assassins were paralyzed with fear. They kept firing, but their shots could never catch up to his speed. Every time Long Fei killed someone, the corpse would be riddled with bullets by his own comrades before it even hit the ground.

In an instant, only one assassin remained. As he was fumbling to reload his magazine, Long Fei appeared in front of him, sneering, "Heh, do you think you have time for that?"

This time, Long Fei spoke in Japanese.

The assassin looked up, his hands trembling with fear. Perhaps driven by desperation, he quickly loaded the magazine and raised his gun to fire. But he could never be faster than Long Fei. Before he could pull the trigger, Long Fei was already behind him. He snatched the gun away and kicked the man down. It was that same dirty, shameless "lethal groin kick." As the assassin crouched, clutching his crotch, Long Fei pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead.

Bang! Blood splattered!

Long Fei stood up, tossed the gun aside, and brushed off his hands. "Damn, that was easy, though it almost got my clothes dirty."

A whistling sound erupted. Long Fei’s expression changed. He spun around just as a silver-gray, gear-shaped hidden weapon whizzed past his ear. Before he could react, the gear circled back, howling as it shot toward him again.

Long Fei knew immediately that only Japanese ninjas used such weapons. He sneered, deciding not to dodge anymore, or he would be doing so forever. He gathered a surge of powerful internal energy into his right hand and struck out with a punch. With a sharp hiss, the weapon was deflected by his internal force, clattering against a marble pillar and falling to the ground.

Long Fei looked closely at the weapon. It resembled a multi-legged turtle, with four sharp, cold blades embedded in a circular stainless steel frame. The tips of the blades shimmered with a purplish-blue light. As an expert, he knew immediately that the weapon was coated in deadly poison. A single scratch would likely be fatal.

He recognized this as the most common ninja weapon: the Shuriken.

Just as he lowered his head, several more gusts of wind struck. Long Fei didn't even turn around; he twisted his body in a strange, contorted way to dodge several caltrops. Sparks flew as the caltrops struck the floor.

Long Fei took a cold breath. The force behind these projectiles was no joke. To be able to make every caltrop strike sparks upon hitting the ground required immense strength—at the very least, this was the work of a Chunin-level ninja.

This time, Long Fei finally spotted them. Three ninjas dressed in white, their entire bodies covered except for their eyes, knelt on one knee. One hand rested on the floor, the other hidden behind their backs. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their eyes locked onto Long Fei.

"Nice pose," Long Fei chuckled.