Shutting Down

The security guards outside the room were already knocked out. Fan Xian was standing alone inside, looking at his younger brother, who was only 14 years of age. His face was devoid of any emotion.

It was then that the fighters and the teenagers of the room awoke. There were people who did not know who Fan Xian was yet, but they still looked at him with nervous uncertainty. The young boy whose hand had been the recipient of a crossbow bolt recognised him as the "Mister Chen" of the previous night, and so he screamed aloud, ordering a number of his men to attack Fan Xian directly.

Fan Sizhe was unable to formulate a single cohesive thought as his mind raced; all he did was grab a teapot and went to beat someone with it.

…

…

Pang!

The fighter that first passed Fan Sizhe on his way to attack Fan Xian had received a whack on the head with the glass teapot. Within a second, the man crumbled to the ground, his head bleeding.