C6 Steal It

Tantrum eyed Yang Zun's nonchalant demeanor and let out a derisive snort.

A bidding war? That was out of the question for him. With barely a thousand yuan to his name, and Yang Zun casually tossing out a hundred thousand without a second thought, victory was a pipe dream.

But the small cauldron was too precious to him to simply walk away from. No matter the odds, giving up wasn't an option.

If Yang Zun was going to meddle and the greedy stall owner was reneging on his word, then Tantrum wasn't about to play fair either. He was determined to claim that cauldron as his own!

In a flash, Tantrum's expression turned icy. He quietly retrieved the money he had previously discarded and gently set the cauldron back in place.

Upon witnessing this, Yang Zun's facade of indifference cracked, revealing a look of excitement. He lunged for the cauldron the moment Tantrum set it down, his composure vanishing in the blink of an eye.

"Hmph!" Tantrum scoffed, a sneer spreading across his face. Unseen by all, his hand made a subtle flick.

A shard of transparent glass shot out from Tantrum's fingertip, propelled by his inner strength. It was nearly invisible as it flew, slicing across Yang Zun's hand in an instant.

A gash opened on Yang Zun's hand with a sharp sound, as if an unseen blade had struck. The skin split, blood seeped out, and the intense pain elicited a scream from Yang Zun.

He jerked his hand back from the cauldron, clutching it tightly as he gasped for air.

The crowd was taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, too shocked to react. Only the shop owner remained alert, quickly moving to seize the cauldron.

He recognized the cauldron's value. If Yang Zun got his hands on it first, with his influence, the shop owner might have to settle for the hundred thousand. But if he could control the cauldron, he could still negotiate a better price.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached out, disregarding the bizarre occurrence that had just befallen Yang Zun.

And then, it happened again. It was as though an invisible blade hung in the air, ready to strike anyone who dared approach the cauldron.

The crowd around was bewildered, a wave of fear erupting from within.

In that moment, Tantrum seized the opportunity while everyone was distracted, deftly pushing the person next to him. With a shout, that person lunged at the stall, toppling it and sending the scene into disarray.

As the crowd dispersed in avoidance, Tantrum swiftly grabbed the small cauldron and, blending with the retreating masses, vanished before anyone could catch a clear glimpse of his actions.

Tantrum didn't head straight back to the antique shop with the cauldron safely tucked in his pocket. Instead, he meandered through the market, his senses fanned out, vigilant for any signs of pursuit.

The cauldron had been a risky grab, and a tail to the shop would spell trouble. While Tantrum wasn't one to shy away from confrontation, he preferred to avoid unnecessary complications. He ambled leisurely through Antique City, and soon enough, he detected someone shadowing him.

Without betraying his awareness, Tantrum let out a soft, derisive snort and made his way out of the Antique Market.

Beyond the confines of Antique City, Tantrum strolled along a riverside path opposite a wealthy district lined with expansive, luminous villas. The view was quite pleasant.

Hands pocketed, he ambled into a narrow alley and leaned against the wall, lying in wait. Soon, the sound of haphazard footsteps approached.

Four or five burly men in black charged into the alley, coming face-to-face with Tantrum.

One of them was a familiar face to Tantrum—Daniu, the bodyguard of Tao Yu. Contrary to Tantrum's suspicions, these men weren't sent by Yang Zun of the Noble Building.

Seeing Daniu, Tantrum chuckled, "Ah, it's you. Seems like the past lessons weren't quite enough."

Daniu, unnerved by Tantrum's grin, involuntarily recoiled.

But bolstered by the presence of his four formidable companions, Daniu's confidence swelled as he said icily, "Kid, you've crossed Young Master Yu. You're coming with us—our boss wants a word."

"And who might your boss be?" Tantrum inquired coolly.

"You'll find out soon enough. I suggest you come quietly. If you put up a fight, don't blame us for getting rough," another stocky man added with a cold indifference.

As he spoke, he advanced and reached for Tantrum's shoulder with a firm hand.

Daniu was about to caution the muscular man to watch out when Tantrum preempted him. This time, he didn't shift his stance but swiftly grabbed the man's wrist, seizing his pulse in an instant.

Before the man could muster any strength, Tantrum twisted and tripped him, sending the burly figure crashing face-up onto the concrete with a thunderous thud. Stars swirled before his eyes as he groaned in agony.

Tantrum had been exposed to the ways of the Ancient Martial Family from a young age, but his dedicated training in the ancient martial arts spanned less than three years. His grandfather claimed that Tantrum's natural ability was unparalleled, a rarity even among the Ancient Martial Families with millennia of heritage. By talent alone, few could match him.

Internally, Tantrum honed the Profound Yellow Spell, a technique renowned in the ancient martial arts community, albeit incomplete. His grandfather had stumbled upon it during his youthful adventures. Externally, Tantrum practiced a form of grappling that defied specific forms, offering an infinite array of moves that targeted an opponent's weak points with the utmost simplicity and efficiency.

Tantrum's confidence in his ancient martial arts was unshakable. Facing these burly men, who knew little more than a scattering of moves, he didn't need to unleash his full prowess. A flick of his wrist was enough to subdue them.

"Let's gang up on him!"

Upon witnessing Tantrum neutralize one of their own with a single maneuver, the remaining three, excluding Daniu, lunged at him from different angles.

These were seasoned fighters, hardened by their time in the underworld, with plenty of brawling experience and formidable strength.

But their opponent was Tantrum.

He didn't deliver lethal blows, but he didn't pull his punches either. Steering clear of their vital spots, his fists still found flesh, eliciting howls of pain from the strong men.

Soon, they were wailing, taking Tantrum's barrage of punches and kicks like punching bags.

Unbeknownst to them, across the river in the affluent neighborhood, two men and a woman stood on the balcony of a three-story villa, thoroughly entertained by the spectacle below.

The woman was strikingly young, with the cherubic features of a doll's face that made her incredibly endearing.

Yet, her eyes betrayed an uncanny serenity and detachment, rendering her age indiscernible and exuding the authoritative presence of someone in command. The two men, clearly her aides or underlings, positioned themselves a respectful half step behind her.

"Wang Shu, what's your take on the individual down there?" she inquired, her gaze fixed on Tantrum. Her voice, though melodious, was laced with an unmistakable air of authority.