"Oh my god..."
The Black men pressed against the glass door outside, witnessing Wan Yunting inside wielding his Tai Chi sword like a protagonist in a Chinese martial arts film, mowing down the opposition. Members of the dual-blade sect fell one after another, their severed arms and gushing blood splattering the ground, thoroughly terrifying the young Black men. They quickly shouted, "Hurry, call the boss..."
"Baka..."
The young man protecting Tang Ze Ichiro watched his sect members on the ground groaning and screaming, clutching their broken limbs, a horrifying scene that widened his eyes in terror. His hands trembled as he gripped his katana. Seeing Wan Yunting, his expressionless face and Tai Chi sword stained with blood, advancing slowly, the young sect member swallowed hard, let out a cry, and charged at Wan Yunting...
*Swish!*
Wan Yunting's long sword thrust forward, and its tip instantly reached the young sect member's throat...
*Thump!* Terrified, the young man fell to his knees, his katanas dropping to the ground. Facing the cold-faced Wan Yunting, the young sect member's eyes were filled with abject fear. He repeatedly spoke in Japanese, "Don't kill me..."
Wan Yunting looked up, at Tang Ze Ichiro being supported by two panicked sect members behind the young man. A mocking smile touched his lips. "Is this your Bushido spirit?"
"Baka..."
Angered by his subordinate's cowardice, Tang Ze Ichiro cursed, drew his own katana, and charged forward. He directly swung his sword at the back of the head of the sect member kneeling before Wan Yunting, felling him instantly. This terrified the other two sect members, and the surrounding ones dropped their katanas and fled.
"Cough... cough..."
Tang Ze Ichiro, having struck down his subordinate, clutched his katana, his chest heaving from the intense pain. His ferocious eyes fixed on Wan Yunting, he roared, "I will fight you to the death, ah..."
Completely losing his reason, Tang Ze Ichiro raised his katana, shouted, and charged at Wan Yunting...
The next second, a flash of sword light gleamed under the lights. Wan Yunting lunged forward, his sword piercing Tang Ze Ichiro's throat as he charged. The sword tip went through, drawing a spray of blood, which slowly dripped down the tip like a line...
"Urk..."
Tang Ze Ichiro's eyes widened, the flesh on his face twitching violently. Blood continuously flowed from his mouth, and the hands holding the katana loosened powerlessly. With a *clang*, both swords fell to the ground...
*Swish!*
As Wan Yunting withdrew his sword, more blood sprayed out. Tang Ze Ichiro clutched his bleeding neck, knelt down with a *thump*, and then fell, his eyes wide with the terror of death, his pupils dilating...
"Boss..."
The sect members hiding nearby rushed over upon witnessing this scene. However, they dared not attack Wan Yunting again, and knelt beside Tang Ze Ichiro's corpse, crying out in grief...
Wan Yunting, with a cold expression, cast a indifferent glance. It seemed killing these people caused him no guilt or discomfort.
He thought of their invasion decades ago, how they massacred countless compatriots. At this moment, Wan Yunting felt a sense of exhilaration, his blood boiling...
"What a load of Bushido spirit..."
Wan Yunting cursed, then turned and walked towards the glass door. As he walked, he took off his jacket, wiped the blood from the Tai Chi sword's blade, and discarded it. Passing by the scabbard, he flicked it up with his foot, grasped it, and sheathed his sword.
The sect members lying on the ground with broken limbs and hands watched him with terrified eyes. Naturally, no one dared to stop Wan Yunting any further.
*Bang!*
Wan Yunting shattered the glass door with his internal energy. He stepped on the glass shards and went outside.
At this moment, a group of Black men rushed up from the stairwell. Some held baseball bats, some held pistols, and some carried long knives. They had all sorts of weapons. Seeing Wan Yunting descending the stairs, they did not hesitate to pull the triggers...
*Bang...*
*Ah...*
Gunshots and screams instantly echoed throughout the stairwell. Wan Yunting's pupils flashed green. His Tai Chi sword glinted coldly, and his movements were like a phantom. His powerful spirit and precognitive abilities allowed him to dodge bullets fired at close range. His long sword mercilessly pierced their throats and severed the arms wielding their weapons...
In the blink of an eye, over a dozen Black men lay on the stairs, screaming incessantly. Some were dead, others crippled. This was because Wan Yunting harbored no pity for these drug dealers; he killed them without any psychological burden or guilt...
*Da da da...*
Wan Yunting, holding his Tai Chi sword, advanced to the first floor. As he emerged, two Black men armed with submachine guns unleashed a volley of bullets at him. Wan Yunting instantly lunged, taking cover behind a car parked by the roadside. The bullets shattered the car door and windows. Simultaneously, other Black men with firearms crazily fired at Wan Yunting behind the car...
For a time, countless Black men armed with various weapons surrounded him. Wan Yunting did not fear those with handguns, but he was somewhat wary of the submachine guns firing continuously. Although his reaction speed was fast, he was not invulnerable.
Moreover, this was America, a country where guns were not prohibited and citizens were armed. Thus, even if Wan Yunting possessed great martial prowess and speed, he could dodge one gun, but not ten.
The two Black men with submachine guns finished firing and were changing magazines. However, Wan Yunting suddenly burst out. He stomped on the car hood, launching himself into the air, soaring over the heads of a group of Black men. Wan Yunting furiously unleashed his long sword, cutting down the drug cartel members, whose cries of agony were constant...
*Bang bang bang...*
At the same time, Black men with handguns fired wildly at him. But as Wan Yunting was in the thick of the melee, his movements were erratic. His precognitive ability allowed him to dodge bullets quickly, resulting in some of his own Black companions being hit and falling...
Wan Yunting knew that if he faced those with guns in an open space, he would not be able to withstand them. But as long as he mingled among them, the armed Black men would be hesitant to fire indiscriminately.
However, Wan Yunting did not want to linger here. He knew that the people behind the drug cartel likely had not captured Jiang Wenhao and brought him here. They merely wanted to lure him, and have that islander Tang Ze Ichiro try to kill him...
"Fuck..."
At this moment, a young Black man dressed in hip-hop attire stood on the roof of a sports car in the distance. He watched the chaotic scene unfolding on the street, seeing his men fall screaming. The Black man, named Nick, pulled out his phone and quickly made a call. He said, "Boss, that chink has broken out. Also, Tang Ze Ichiro was killed by him."
"What!"
The voice on the other end of the line was shocked. After a moment, he said, "It seems the boss underestimated this Chinese man!"
"Boss, what do we do now?"
Nick looked at Wan Yunting, who was in the midst of the chaos, wreaking havoc in the distance. Fear and astonishment flickered in his eyes. He nervously said, "That chink's kung fu is too formidable, even more so than Bruce Lee's..."
The person on the other end roared, "Damn it, you must kill him!"
"Yes."
Nick nodded heavily. After hanging up, he jumped off the car, opened the door, and retrieved a gun from inside. Leading a group of subordinates, also armed with submachine guns, he charged towards Wan Yunting, who was still in the midst of battle on the distant street. He then roared, "Get out of the way, all of you, get out of the way..."
As soon as the Black subordinates saw Nick and his group approaching with submachine guns, they quickly retreated. Nick and his men raised their submachine guns and unleashed a barrage of fire at Wan Yunting...
*Da da da...*
Bullets flew, and some Black subordinates, unable to dodge in time, were hit and fell...
*Bang!*
Wan Yunting crashed through the glass door of a nearby shop and quickly took cover against the wall. Outside, Nick and his men fired madly into the shop with their guns, causing debris to fly everywhere...
Then, when the bullets ran out and the gunfire stopped, Wan Yunting instantly charged out. Rolling on the ground, he grabbed a handful of glass shards and hurled them at Nick and his men outside...
*Ah...*
Nick and his men cried out in pain as they were hit in the eyes by the glass shards and fell...
Upon seeing their boss fall, the Black subordinates shouted and charged in. Wan Yunting, however, sprinted towards the stairwell, heading to the second floor and then to the rooftop. The Black subordinates swarmed after him, chasing him with all sorts of weapons...
But now Wan Yunting did not want to be entangled with these people. He reached the railing of the building and looked at the next building, which was about seven to eight meters away. He quickly retreated a few meters. The Black subordinates also rushed up, some firing at him, even throwing their baseball bats and long knives...
Wan Yunting sprinted, dodging a volley of bullets. He stepped on the railing and pushed off, soaring through the air. He carved an arc through the night, landing on the roof of the adjacent, two-story building. After rolling twice on the ground, Wan Yunting stood up and looked back at the Black subordinates on the building, who were shouting and screaming. They raised their pistols and submachine guns, unleashing a barrage of fire at him...
However, Wan Yunting quickly dashed forward, somersaulted over the railing, and leaped directly from the rooftop of the three-story building. He landed on the street they had originally used for racing. Several sports cars were parked there. Wan Yunting quickly rushed towards a yellow sports car. A Black youth emerged from inside and raised a pistol to shoot at Wan Yunting...
*Bang bang bang...*
*Ah!*
In the next second, the youth screamed as his arm, severed by Wan Yunting's sword, fell to the ground, and he writhed in agony...
"Stop him..."
The Black subordinates who had turned back and chased him out roared. Wan Yunting glanced back, then quickly got into the yellow sports car, placed his Tai Chi sword on the passenger seat, and sped off. He immediately turned the car around and charged at the approaching Black subordinates, overturning several of them. The Black subordinates, startled, scattered to the sides...