C270 Bastard You Still Want to be an Assassin?

"Crash!"

In an instant, the dagger thrust forward, narrowly missing Lin Dong's chest.

It was aimed directly at his heart—a sure kill if it connected.

As the blade glinted with a cold light, signaling the imminent attack, Lin Dong remained utterly still, his face a mask of serenity.

He had already dealt with a surprise attack effortlessly, even when he couldn't see his assailant.

Now, with the battle before him and the Eight Blasts skill at his disposal, how could he possibly be harmed?

The waitress facing him had a gaze filled with icy ferocity.

Lin Dong countered with a swift kick.

The dagger arrived just as his foot met its mark, the two nearly colliding in their motion.

Lin Dong was quicker, more forceful.

The waitress's eyes widened in shock as she tried to dodge, but Lin Dong's kick landed with a thud against her abdomen.

His mastery over his leg muscles was nothing short of sublime.

The power behind the kick was immense, causing the waitress to bulge her eyes and open her mouth to scream.

But Lin Dong was quick to cover her gaping mouth, swiftly pinning her to the ground.

The waitress struggled, her arms pinned behind her.

She tried to wriggle free, but Lin Dong pressed his knee into her back.

She felt as if a boulder was crushing her, rendering her immobile.

Seeing the would-be assassin incapacitated, Lin Dong chuckled, his voice calm and collected, "Kid, you call yourself an assassin? Go back and train for another two years."

He reached for the waitress's hair, intending to lift her, but as he pulled, the hair came away in his hand, revealing the short, distinctly masculine cut beneath.

Lin Dong's eyes narrowed as he turned the figure over and tore off the scarf around the neck, exposing a prominent Adam's apple.

The waitress was, in fact, a man in disguise!

And this confirmed his intent to assassinate Lin Dong.

Without hesitation, Lin Dong seized the man's neck and hauled him into the restroom, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang.

Once behind closed doors, he unceremoniously dropped the man to the floor.

"Who sent you?" Lin Dong demanded.

The hitman's eyes spasmed. His arm had been twisted behind his back by Lin Dong, and now his face was pressed against the ground, his nose uncomfortably close to the toilet, the foul odor assaulting his senses.

This was the same hitman who had taken out Big Belly and had followed Lin Dong and the members of the Skyfire Motorcycle Club here!

Despite Lin Dong's probing, he remained stoically silent. His face might have been mashed against the floor, but he uttered not a word, displaying the unwavering resolve expected of a hitman.

Lin Dong realized that this man would not easily divulge any information. In a swift motion, he wrenched the hitman's arm upward.

A sickening snap echoed as the hitman's arm was grotesquely broken, the muscles at the break swelling visibly. Pain bloomed across the hitman's features.

The agony was so severe that the hitman couldn't help but let out a scream. But before the sound fully escaped his lips, Lin Dong's foot came crashing down on his face, muffling the cry.

Now, unable to scream, the hitman shook violently with pain.

Lin Dong glowered at the subdued figure on the ground and spoke with a menacing calm, "I'll ask you one last time: who sent you? If you don't talk, I won't hesitate to press your face into the toilet."

He then lifted his foot, waiting for the hitman to break his silence.

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