C8 Judgment of the God of Death

The Sky Splendor Bar was bustling with activity, at the peak of its nightly revelry.

Zhang Xiaodong swayed into the bar, the pulsating heavy metal music igniting a fire within him.

He made his way to the bar, ordered his usual bottle of wine, and then retreated to a corner to drink in solitude.

The blend of pounding music and potent liquor was an experience he relished.

Abroad, whenever Zhang Xiaodong felt overwhelmed, he'd seek out a lively bar to unwind. It was in the haze of alcohol that his sorrows would dissipate.

But tonight, Zhang Xiaodong was here for more than just a few drinks.

He could not tolerate his aunt being mistreated.

After an extended wait with no sign of his quarry, Zhang Xiaodong was about to leave.

That's when a voluptuous woman caught his eye.

Panic and fear marred her once graceful features.

She stumbled, her body unsteady, her gaze hazy with despair, especially when she noticed Zhang Xiaodong in the corner.

She staggered over to his table.

"Help, help me... Please..." she slurred.

Suddenly, several burly men in black T-shirts approached from the dance floor, their eyes fixed on the woman as they closed in.

"What's the matter, beautiful?" Zhang Xiaodong inquired, swirling his wine glass, though he already sensed the gravity of the situation.

"I... I..." her coherence was fading.

"Little miss, you sure can run. Playing innocent after coming out to have fun?" one of the men sneered, reaching for her waist.

But as his hand neared her, she subtly shifted, causing him to inadvertently touch Zhang Xiaodong instead.

Zhang Xiaodong flashed a smile and quipped, "Buddy, I'm straight. That kind of touch isn't really my thing."

The man's grin stiffened, annoyance flashing across his face. "Who the hell is touching you? Beat it, and hand her over to me."

"Hand her over to you? Why should I do that? She's my prey now." Zhang Xiaodong chuckled, tightening his grip on the woman's hand. They were pressed close together, resembling an intimate couple.

"You again, you little punk!" At that moment, several burly men approached from the crowd. They instantly recognized Zhang Xiaodong, who recognized them in return.

Were these not the same thugs who had been harassing his aunt?

The leader, Scar Man, seemed particularly enraged at the sight of his adversary.

"Brothers, let's make sure this punk doesn't walk out of here alive tonight!" Scar Man bellowed.

He was out for revenge, seeking to settle the score for a past beating.

At that moment, everyone in the bar stepped aside, creating a clear path and bracing themselves for the impending spectacle.

Zhang Xiaodong simply shook his head and smiled.

"Leave her, you little runt!" a henchman shouted, launching a punch towards Zhang Xiaodong's face.

Without so much as a glance, Zhang Xiaodong delivered a swift, straightforward punch to the man's nose, swift as lightning.

Blood gushed instantly, and the henchman screamed, collapsing to the floor in agony.

Witnessing this, Scar Man caressed the grotesque scar on his face, realizing Zhang Xiaodong was not to be underestimated. He began rallying all the bouncers in the bar.

The entire establishment was on alert.

"Let's see how many you can take on!" Scar Man said with a malicious grin.

"Get him!"

"Stop!" As the crowd closed in on Zhang Xiaodong, a furious roar cut through the noise.

Everyone turned to see a bald man in a black suit striding forward.

In his early thirties, the man had a small dark blue dragon tattooed near the corner of his right eye, his gaze fierce and unyielding.

"Mr. Hu is here! Mr. Hu has arrived!" The crowd erupted into whispers, and even Scar Man's excitement was palpable.

"Kid, your time is up!" Scar Man pointed at Zhang Xiaodong, his voice laced with a cold threat.

Who was Mr. Hu? None other than Shan Hu, the most formidable figure in the area, known to all as Mr. Hu.

Rumor had it that he was an exceptional special forces soldier in his youth. After leaving the military and struggling to find work, he turned to life as an enforcer. Over the years, he rose through the ranks to become a local overlord.

Scar Man and his crew were all under Mr. Hu's wing, and the bar they were in belonged to him.

At that moment, everyone believed Zhang Xiaodong was finished. To stir up trouble on Mr. Hu's turf was to ensure he wouldn't walk out of the bar alive.

Mr. Hu, fueled by rage, seemed to overlook everyone as he stormed in, paying no mind even to Scar Man, his right-hand man.

His attention, however, remained solely on Zhang Xiaodong.

"Mr. Dong, is that really you?" Shan Hu approached Zhang Xiaodong with large strides, his nearly two-meter stature casting a shadow over him like a massive gorilla, obscuring the light.

Zhang Xiaodong, with a cigarette hanging from his lips, offered only a faint smile in response, remaining silent.

Yet, Shan Hu was visibly shaken, his eyes red and brimming with a mix of intense emotion and profound fear. Zhang Xiaodong's wry smile seemed to him like the grim reaper's judgment.

That same smile had once been Zhang Xiaodong's trademark, one that had sent countless to their graves. Years had passed, but it appeared nothing had changed.

"Mr. Hu, this little punk is the one who hit me today. You've got to stand up for us!" Scar Man, still not fully grasping the situation, pointed at Zhang Xiaodong and yelled.

Shan Hu was the top dog around these parts, a former special forces operative with combat skills that could easily dispatch dozens like Scar Man without breaking a sweat. His imposing frame alone was a formidable threat.

But in Shan Hu's eyes, there was only Zhang Xiaodong. He was deaf to the words of those around him, his mind replaying the memories from five years ago, haunted by that youthful, devilish smile...