Chapter 159: Gunfight

Bang!

The heavy wooden door was battered open by the combined force of several men, and the wardrobe crashed loudly to the floor.

Two pitch-black gun muzzles instantly materialized in the doorway, aiming straight at Lu Feng.

Immediately following them, two armed men stepped into the room: one was a black man, and the other was a short Asian.

Judging by their appearance, these two were undoubtedly professional assassins.

The New East Society was an ally of the Assassin Alliance within Huaxia, and since Kun Jiu had already made his move, the appearance of assassins came as no surprise.

The assassins split up, taking positions on either side of the doorway. Right behind them, Kun Jiu and Yuan Jianhui stepped into view, wearing smug grins as they looked at Lu Feng and Yao Chuchu, who stood behind him.

"They always say even heroes can't resist the allure of a beauty. It turns out that's true," Kun Jiu said, leaning against the doorframe as he pulled out a lighter and leisurely lit a cigarette.

Lu Feng’s hands hung naturally at his sides, his right hand just ten centimeters away from the Type 92 pistol tucked into his lower back, his fingers already twitching with anticipation.

Suddenly, Yuan Jianhui drew a handgun and cocked it. Instead of aiming at Lu Feng, he pointed the weapon straight at Yao Chuchu, who was cowering in the corner. "Make a single move, and I'll blow her brains out. What good is your fancy martial arts? Can she dodge a bullet? Or maybe you'd like to step in and take the bullets for her!"

Left with no choice, Lu Feng suppressed the urge to strike, fixing a cold gaze on Yuan Jianhui and the two armed assassins.

Seeing that Lu Feng dared not move, Yuan Jianhui grew even more arrogant. He strode over, grabbed Yao Chuchu by the hair, dragged her up, and hauled her toward the bed.

Lu Feng’s eyes darkened, and just as he was about to make a move—

Bang!

The black assassin fired instantly. The bullet grazed the inside of Lu Feng’s arm and embedded itself deeply into the wall.

Ah!

Startled by the gunshot, Yao Chuchu let out a shriek. She hurriedly looked over at Lu Feng, and only when she saw he was uninjured did she close her mouth.

"Go on, move! This guy can hit a fly with his pistol from across the room. If you want to die, go ahead and move!" Yuan Jianhui jeered, bursting into triumphant laughter.

Dragged away by her hair, Yao Chuchu was powerless to resist. After a few futile struggles, she cried out, "Lu Feng, just go! Don't try to save me. I'll drag him down to hell with me!"

"Hahaha..." Yuan Jianhui beamed with smug satisfaction and vindictive pleasure. "He has to be capable of escaping first."

"Let her go! If you want revenge, come at me!" Lu Feng roared in fury.

"Don't worry!" Yuan Jianhui tilted his head to look at Lu Feng, offering a chilling smirk. "Your turn will come. But before that, I'm going to let you watch a good show."

With that, Yuan Jianhui grabbed Yao Chuchu by the chin, forcing her face upward. "Want me to let him go?"

Yao Chuchu violently shook her head and struggled, but she could not break free from Yuan Jianhui’s iron grip.

"Sure, I can let him go. As long as you suck my dick and lick it until I'm satisfied, I'll spare him!" As he spoke, Yuan Jianhui unzipped his trousers, intending to pull himself out and shove it against Yao Chuchu's face.

Turning pale with horror, Yao Chuchu thrashed desperately, but she remained completely trapped in Yuan Jianhui's grasp.

Lu Feng’s anger reached its boiling point. Channeling his internal energy into his soles, he suddenly lunged forward with a feint to trick the assassins into firing. Then, employing an arcane footwork technique, he glided instantly to Yuan Jianhui’s side, twisted the man's wrist to disarm him of his gun, and grabbed him by the collar to use as a human shield.

Bang! Bang!

Both shots missed completely, burying themselves into the wall.

Just as the two assassins re-adjusted their aim toward Lu Feng, Yuan Jianhui was already blocking their line of fire.

The Asian assassin shifted his pistol once more, locking his sights on Yao Chuchu.

With blinding speed, Lu Feng drew the Type 92 from his lower back, thrust the barrel past Yuan Jianhui's armpit, and pulled the trigger at the Asian assassin.

A blossom of blood erupted from the Asian assassin’s chest, and he let out a muffled groan before collapsing to the floor.

The black assassin reacted with lightning reflexes; hearing the gunshot, he threw himself into a roll and scrambled out of the room.

Lu Feng kicked a table across the floor to barricade the doorway, then pressed the barrel of his gun firmly against Yuan Jianhui’s temple.

"What do you want?" Yuan Jianhui was instantly engulfed by the terror of impending death, especially with the bleeding corpse of the Asian assassin lying right before his eyes.

...

"Boss, what do we do now? They're holed up inside and refuse to come out, and they've got guns," a subordinate asked Kun Jiu.

Kun Jiu had never expected that even calling in two professional hitmen wouldn't be enough to handle Lu Feng; it was genuinely unexpected.

After a brief moment of thought, he ordered, "Bring over a gas cylinder."

The underling instantly understood, giving a thumbs-up and praising, "Brilliant move, Boss."

Before long, a gas cylinder was hauled over, and Kun Jiu instructed his men to pump the gas directly into the room.

"Boss, won't that kill Young Master Yuan along with them?" one of the subordinates voiced his concern.

"To achieve great things, one must be ruthless. Even without the gas, do you think he'd make it out alive? As long as we don't fire any shots, there won't be an explosion inside. If it's just carbon monoxide poisoning, we can still rush him to the hospital and have a chance at saving him."

...

Lu Feng was binding Yuan Jianhui with a rope, assisted by Yao Chuchu.

No sooner had they finished tying Yuan Jianhui up than a pungent odor drifted into the room—the distinct stench of gas.

Carbon monoxide itself was odorless, but household gas was treated with a foul-smelling additive, making the stench overpowering.

Lu Feng hurriedly pressed his sleeve against his nose, ripped off a bedsheet, and handed a piece to Yao Chuchu. "Quick! Cover your nose."

"It's gas! What do we do?" Panic set in for Yao Chuchu.

"Don't speak!" Lu Feng quickly checked the room; every single window had been nailed shut beforehand.

With the room now saturated with gas, a single gunshot would trigger an instant explosion, leaving no one inside alive—not even Yuan Jianhui.

Therefore, Lu Feng deduced that Kun Jiu would not dare to fire casually.

"We can't stay here. Stay close behind me." Lu Feng picked up the handguns dropped by the Asian assassin and Yuan Jianhui, thrusting one of them into Yao Chuchu's hands.

Yao Chuchu trembled so violently she could barely hold the weapon. "I don't know how to use it!"

"Just hold it for self-defense!" Lu Feng said as he hoisted Yuan Jianhui to his feet, threw open the door, and shoved the captive forward.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Terrified out of his wits, Yuan Jianhui screamed at the top of his lungs.

No shots were fired. Using Yuan Jianhui as a human shield in front, Lu Feng stepped out of the room, motioning for Yao Chuchu to follow closely behind.

At that exact moment, a dark gun barrel poked out from around the corridor corner.

Lu Feng kicked Yuan Jianhui hard toward the muzzle, grabbed Yao Chuchu, and crashed through a nearby doorway, tumbling into the room.

Bang, bang, bang!

Three consecutive gunshots rang out right behind them. Lu Feng leaped to his feet, dragged a cabinet over to barricade the door, and told Yao Chuchu, pointing to the corner of the room, "Hide there!"

Though trembling from head to toe, Yao Chuchu gritted her teeth, crawled over to the corner, and crouched down, trying her best not to become a burden to Lu Feng.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Someone started battering the door again. Raising his pistol, Lu Feng fired three rounds straight through the wooden door.

Ah!

A miserable shriek echoed from the hallway, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps fleeing in all directions.

The door-bashing stopped. Lu Feng crept to the window, pressed his back against the wall, and peered outside through a gap in the curtains.

This room was no sanctuary either. This time, they had no human hostage; if Kun Jiu decided to pump gas into this room too and set it ablaze, they would undoubtedly be blown to pieces here.

Just then, Lu Feng caught sight of a figure emerging outside the villa. He licked his finger, picked up a trace of saliva, and drew a circle on the window glass.

The figure outside the villa raised a hand and gestured a series of signals.

Quietly, Lu Feng cracked the window open by a sliver, wrapped the Type 92 pistol in a torn strip of the bedsheet, and tossed it out through the gap.