Chapitre 18

Song Lang nodded, found a seat, and began playing the game with complete focus.

After he successfully won the game with a headshot, only one person sat down in the seat next to him.

"Are you constipated? You've been gone for so long." Song Lang glanced at him sideways, his brows furrowing. Sitting next to him was a scruffy-looking young man with blond hair, not Meng Fanxing.

“There are people here,” he said, gesturing with his chin.

"I know, I won't stay any longer. Here, little brother, take some money and I'm leaving now." The blond-haired guy chuckled and spat the chewing gum he was having onto Song Lang's keyboard.

It's obvious they're just looking for trouble.

Song Lang's face darkened, and his voice was devoid of warmth, "No, get out."

"Hey, don't push your luck, bro," the blond-haired guy leaned over and put his arm around his shoulder, a smirk on his gaunt face. "Five hundred for a pair of your classmate's pants, not a bad deal, right?"

Song Lang glanced down at the hand on his shoulder, gritted his teeth, and threw the earphones onto the table. "Let's talk outside."

"You know what's good for you." The blond-haired guy lightly slapped his cheek with the back of his hand, then got up and hummed a little tune as he walked toward the back door of the internet cafe.

Passing by the restroom, there were seven or eight slovenly thugs standing at the entrance. They and the blond-haired guy often loitered around this area, specifically targeting lone students for money.

One of them was swinging a pair of pants in his hand, with the Adidas logo on the leg.

Song Lang stopped in front of the man. "Give the pants back."

His height was really not like that of a bean sprout who had just entered junior high school, and his eyes and tone were also a bit intimidating. The man couldn't help but be stunned and subconsciously took half a step back.

"Hey, what are you chickening out for?!" The person next to him shoved him, snatched the pants, threw them on the ground, and stomped on them, taunting, "Give them back? Fine, then give some money out to your brothers first."

From inside the restroom rang out Meng Fanxing's raspy voice: "Dalang! Give them the money, hurry up!"

Upon hearing this, Song Lang nearly vomited blood in anger. This son of a bitch was truly spineless.

The blond-haired guy whistled and said to Song Lang, "Hurry up, buddy, I'm still hungry. Let's finish this quickly so we can get some barbecue skewers."

After saying that, the others also whistled with wicked smiles.

Song Lang stepped out the back door and pulled a red bill from his pocket. "That's all."

The blond-haired boy took the money bill and raised his hand to slap Song Lang's face again, shouting, "Are you trying to fob me off like a beggar?!"

Before his hand could even fall, it was seized firmly.

Song Lang couldn't suppress his murderous aura. He coldly twisted the other man's wrist forcefully, saying, "I've been putting up with you for a long time."

The blond-haired guy's hands were almost broken, and he cursed through gritted teeth, "Damn it, let go!"

"There's only a hundred bucks. If you fucking want it, take it and get the hell out of here. Don't let me see you again." Song Lang twisted the blond-haired guy's arm behind his back and slapped him back twice.

Feeling deeply insulted, the blond-haired guy ignored his aching arm and yelled, "Holy shit! What the hell are you all standing there for? Get him!"

The thugs guarding the door rushed forward, and three of them even blocked the doorway.

"Damn it, you idiots!" The person blocked behind the door got angry, kicked one of them in the butt, and rushed out to fight.

Song Lang's years of hard work in Taekwondo finally came in handy at this moment.

Seeing his clean and decisive spinning back kick, these people knew they had met a trained fighter. But with ten against one, if they backed down, they would really be finished.

After the blond-haired guy was kicked in the face for the third time by Song Lang's flying side kick, he spat out a mouthful of blood and cursed, "Fuck your mother, don't you know you shouldn't hit someone in the face?"

Before he finished speaking, he picked up a broken mop handle from next to a trash can in the back alley and swung it at Song Lang.

Song Lang was hit hard on the back. He was only wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt, so the sound of the stick hitting his back was particularly loud.

Trapped in the toilet, Meng Fanxing became desperate and kicked the toilet door open with all her might. Without even putting on her pants, she rushed out of the internet cafe with her bare legs exposed.

Song Lang parried the weapon from the blond-haired boy's hand and took the opportunity to yell at Meng Fanxing, "Xingzi, go call for help!"

Meng Fanxing's quick wit was probably stripped away along with his Adidas trousers. At this moment, he was possessed by the spirit of Qiong Yao and shouted, "No! How can I leave you alone?!"

Song Lang: "You idiot!"

Meng Fanxing: "Even if you scold me, I won't abandon you!"

Song Lang: "..."

Before they could finish speaking, someone pulled out a makeshift weapon from the trash heap: half a pair of scissors. Although they weren't sharp, a single stab would be unbearable.

This group of people also realized that Song Lang was a tough nut to crack, so they specifically targeted Meng Fanxing, who was an easy target.

While defending himself, Song Lang also had to watch out for Meng Fanxing's chest and back. He gradually lost ground, was hit twice more in the back, and was punched and kicked in the abdomen and face. His thigh was also stabbed.

The blond-haired guy called to his companions, and taking advantage of Song Lang's momentary lapse in attention, they kicked him to the ground. Song Lang's forehead hit the rough stone, and warm blood flowed down.

Just when he thought he was going to die there, a white figure rushed out from the back door of the internet cafe.

Blood stained his vision, making it difficult for him to see the person rushing towards him, but he knew it was Shen Zhifei.

Shen Zhifei took a running start, stepped onto a stone block to propel himself into the air, twisted his waist and kicked out, knocking away a person who was pressing down on Song Lang.

He knelt down, swept one person aside, and then quickly walked behind the blond-haired guy, placing his hand on the other's neck.

The blond-haired boy felt a chill on his neck. Looking down, he saw that the unexpected man had a gleaming fruit knife in his hand.

"Everyone, step back." Shen Zhifei's voice wasn't loud, but it was extremely intimidating.

The group of thugs originally wanted to beat him up as well, but they didn't expect that as soon as they took a step forward, the knife in Shen Zhifei's hand cut the little blond hair's skin.

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