110: Chapter 109 I Don’t Like Being Threatened 110: Chapter 109 I Don’t Like Being Threatened “Brother Song, please spare my life,” the middle-aged man rushed forward, shouting.
“From now on, I will only say things once,” Song Yun said indifferently.
The underlings promptly stepped forward to pull the middle-aged man away from Song Yun’s legs.
Seeing that there was no escape, the man resorted to shouting, “I have connections with Director Dong, who dares to touch me?”
The underlings hesitated at first, but Song Yun curiously approached and asked, “What could a bastard like you have to do with the deputy police chief?
Don’t take me for a fool just because I’m not well-educated.”
“I…
I was originally one of Director Dong’s guys.
They needed someone to make connections with the gangs near Sunnan University, so they sent me,” the middle-aged man shouted, playing his final card.
If this move couldn’t make Song Yun and his gang wary, his death was certain today.
However, he refused to believe it was in vain.
Song Yun appeared to be in his twenties, looking like just another college student who couldn’t possibly stand against the deputy police chief who had been operating in Sunan City for a long time.
Thinking this, the man’s face gradually regained calmness.
He looked up, faced Song Yun, and said, “Brother Song, if you let me go today, I’ll make a connection for you.
But if you don’t, neither of us will have an easy time.”
“Are you threatening me?” Song Yun’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the man.
“You should know that I hate being threatened the most.”
“No, no, it’s not a threat, just a friendly warning,” the man said, now standing instead of kneeling on the ground, looking Song Yun in the eye.
“You really should consider the future.
You’re still young; you can’t want to play dirty in this dark society forever, right?
After I make this connection for you, maybe you can transform our gang into a company, with you as the general manager.”
“I’ll kick your ass,” Song Yun said coldly, kicking the man to the ground.
“Did I say you could stand up?
Did I tell him he could just stand up?”
The subordinates under Song Yun’s gaze lowered their heads.
Song Yun, stepping on the man’s chest, said, “I hate betrayal the most.
I’m going to deal with you—what can you do about it?
The thing I detest most is bastards who have no power of their own and yet love to flaunt their powerful connections.
Remember, don’t ever be that person in your next life.
Take him away and press the turtle.”
“Brother Song, I was wrong; I can really make connections for you; I can do it,” the middle-aged man pleaded as he was dragged out without any hesitation.
Song Yun sat back down in his chair and lit a cigarette, saying, “For people like him, this is how it should be handled.
No amount of negotiating or pleasantries will solve the problem.
Only power can make them kneel and beg for mercy.”
“Boss, what does ‘pressing the turtle’ mean?” one of the underlings asked, standing out.
“Pressing the turtle,” Song Yun explained with a smile, “is tying a person’s limbs to the ground and then continuously pressing heavy weights on their back until their internal organs are pressed out through their throat.”
The subordinate gulped and trembled before backing down.
Song Yun said no more, knowing they would have many more difficult situations to face; if they couldn’t even handle this, they were better off not being in the underworld.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the African Continent, an elderly man in a Zhongshan suit called all his subordinates together and said, “The kid is now under siege.
Who wants to go help?”
“Me, me, me, I’ll go,” a girl with a youthful glow stood up, waving her hand energetically.
“You can’t go; if you do, Song Yun will be overwhelmed,” the old man frowned and said.
“How is RB doing lately?”
“Still no news, but she’s said to be planning a trip to Sunnan City during the National Day holidays,” a well-built man reported.
“Great Emperor’s power is still not enough to compete with her, and with the situation in Sunnan City becoming increasingly unclear, it’s better not to send reinforcements for now.”
“Mmm, you’ve got a point.
Let him fight on his own for now,” the old man said, picking up his smoking pipe.
“Li Tang and Zhao Yan are still there, and so are Meng Ku and Black Flood Dragon.
They aren’t going to just watch Great Emperor get attacked.
The day they seriously fight back will be truly terrifying,” the man said, closing his folder and leaving.
“I said I want to go to Sunnan City; I want to be there,” the girl persisted unyieldingly.
“Forget it, I can’t send you there.
With your temperament, you’d only cause trouble,” the old man fondly touched the girl’s head and said, “These are Song Yun’s direct orders, to keep you well-behaved here.
If you don’t want to upset him, you better not disturb him.”
“Oh, Great Emperor is so mean, all these years thinking of marrying him for nothing,” the girl sulked and muttered.
Hearing this, the old man secretly wiped his forehead, thinking, Your Great Emperor is probably in some beauty’s bed right now; what if you went there and made a scene?
I’m looking forward to holding a grandchild soon.
“It’s getting late; I should head back,” Song Yun said after finishing his cigarette.
“Eliminate disharmony quickly.
I don’t want infighting before our enemies even show up.”
“Take my car,” Zhao Yan offered.
“Your car still needs to be seriously modified by Meng Ku.
When he saw your car wrecked, he was as upset as if his wife had died.”
“It’s just a car,” Song Yun said awkwardly, knowing that among their group, only Meng Ku was passionate about cars.
According to Meng Ku, every car had its own soul.
Song Yun couldn’t imagine what it looked like, souls floating on the road as soon as you step out the door.
Reaching the parking lot, Song Yun saw that Zhao Yan had brought a Lamborghini today.
Touching the car’s body, Song Yun exclaimed, “This must have cost you a lot, huh?
Have you modified it, or do you need me to do it?”
“Just a few minor changes at the Fox’s place.
If you like it, you can take it.
I’m not really into sports cars, but a woman trying to get me as her son-in-law pushed the keys into my hand,” Zhao Yan shrugged helplessly.
Getting into the car, Song Yun laughed and said, “If you really don’t like it, I’ll take it.
When I’m bored, it can come in handy to show off.”
The car slowly headed towards the courtyard.
Song Yun wasn’t someone who liked speeding, except when racing others.
But even racing followed its own rules, and he usually chose official racetracks—to hell with spending the extra to rent the entire venue.
Those who street raced just wanted to show off, thinking they were awesome, but really, they were just fools.
Crashing and dying is one thing, but if they hit someone else, it’s a tragedy.
And those who struck and didn’t finish the job were truly reckless killers.
It’s like that idiot who sped and killed people; born to be shot.
To catch the crowd’s eye—revving engines, drifting—the end result was death, and the kid ended up being sentenced to prison and shot, right?