Chapter 74: The New Banquet of Ambush

Hearing these men complain about the price, the stall owner did not get angry. He merely muttered under his breath, “It’s always a bunch of paupers wanting meat despite having no money!”

Brother Long was immediately displeased. If you don’t want to sell, then don’t—why insult people? He gritted his teeth, ready to lash out, but Zhang Xingmin and Lin Xiaofeng reacted quickly and stopped him.

Though he had seemed dazed a moment before, Zhang Xingmin was not angered by the owner’s words. Instead, he smiled slightly and said, “We don’t have any rice. How about a flashlight? It’s LED, energy-saving, and equipped with a solar power source.”

The stall owner perked up instantly at the mention of a lighting device. He had been waiting here for nearly half a day, fearing that the meat he’d risked his life to obtain would go unsold and end up as his own meal. He hadn’t expected these men to be even more resourceful, able to produce such rare lighting equipment—solar-powered, no less.

In this place, where power outages were frequent, even rechargeable flashlights were highly sought after, and those with their own power source were especially rare. Who were these people, to be trading such valuable goods? Clearly, they had plenty of treasures to offer.

Although the stall owner tried to remain calm, his eyes betrayed him. The four men knew the deal was about to be struck—it was just a matter of seeing how much they could squeeze from him.

“You really have an LED… flashlight?” The stall owner cleared his throat to finish his question.

Shao Gang, observing the owner’s reaction, pulled a new energy-saving flashlight from his backpack, complete with a small solar panel. He switched it on to show it worked, then said, “Well? Is this good enough?”

The owner reached for it, but Gangzi quickly withdrew the flashlight, confidently saying, “Your meat barely weighs five pounds. I’ll take it all—deal?”

The stall owner hesitated. He truly wanted the flashlight—it was something he desperately needed. Even if he didn’t, reselling it could fetch a sizable supply of goods. But he still needed to trade the meat for some cheap food.

“Brother, could you leave me a bit? I nearly lost my life getting this stuff—look at the wound on my arm, took more than ten stitches. Besides, I haven’t eaten much in three days. Please, have a heart,” the owner pleaded, his earlier indifference gone.

“Gangzi, give it to him. We don’t really need the flashlight,” Dammin urged.

“Exactly! Times are tough for everyone, Gangzi—listen to Dammin,” Lin Xiaofeng chimed in.

“Fine. It’s your flashlight, so it’s your call,” Shao Gang said carelessly.

The stall owner thanked them profusely, then chopped off two-thirds of the beef for Shao Gang and his companions. He received the flashlight with glee, cradling it like a diamond, carefully tucking it away before reclining against a pillar, eyes closed, arms wrapped securely around his bag.

The four men toured the entire marketplace and came away with a fair bounty. Though fresh leafy vegetables were nowhere to be found, they collected potatoes and other long-lasting produce, along with some dehydrated vegetables. They traded for a considerable amount of rice and flour, plus dried meat, bread, compressed biscuits, beverages, and beer.

As the four prepared to head home, they passed a particularly lively area packed with people, layer upon layer. Yang Dalong, curious, pushed his way in to see what was happening.

Shao Gang knew what was inside and tried to hold him back, but he was a step too slow—Brother Long had already vanished into the crowd.

About half an hour later, Brother Long emerged, his face still marked with traces of lipstick.

“What, just visiting a prostitute? Why the fuss?” Dammin watched with an amused expression.

“Damn it, why didn’t you stop me? It was revolting!” Brother Long scrubbed at the marks on his face, as if he could rub off his skin.

“So? Were the girls inside good-looking?” Gangzi asked, his tone teasing.

“They were pretty, but they weren’t girls!” Brother Long shuddered at the memory.

He’d just squeezed inside when something the size of a basketball bumped into him. At first, he thought it was some kind of matchmaking game, but before he could react, he was dragged into the fray by the crowd.

The coy beauty before him made his heart soar—such fortune. Without thinking, he seized the opportunity. However, before he could undress, his hand landed on something distinctly masculine. Instantly sobered and all desire gone, he worried for his safety, given his special status.

Upon realizing what was happening, Yang Dalong tried to flee, but the crowd wouldn’t let him go. After much pleading and maneuvering, he finally escaped.

The other three burst into laughter at his tale. Suddenly, Yang Dalong’s face turned cold.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re that angry,” Gangzi asked, puzzled. Brother Long wasn’t usually so sensitive.

Dammin and Xiaofeng sensed trouble, quickly turning Gangzi around. They spotted an old acquaintance—a buzz-cut man.

“Well, fancy meeting so many familiar faces here!”

“Indeed. We should’ve done our homework before visiting—what a missed opportunity!”

“Don’t bother with rootless scum,” someone muttered.

“Do you know him?” Shao Gang asked, eyeing the buzz-cut delinquent.

The three nodded. “We sure do. We still have unfinished business with him.”

“Brother Long! Long time no see! Still as hot-tempered as ever?” Buzz-cut grinned, but his eyes were cold.

“Thanks to you, I’m still alive,” Brother Long replied arrogantly, chin held high.

“So many brothers, not seen for ages. Why start with threats—don’t you think it’s unlucky?” Buzz-cut spat twice on the ground, feigning indifference.

“A weasel wishing a chicken a happy New Year! State your business,” Brother Long cut him off, unwilling to waste words. He knew he could handle it alone if things got rough.

“I’m just delivering a message. No need to be so wary.” Buzz-cut tossed an envelope toward Yang Dalong and his group, then turned and walked away.

Brother Long wasn’t about to let him go so easily. He threw a sleeve blade that sliced Buzz-cut’s belt, causing his trousers to drop to the ground, revealing cybernetic skin beneath.

The crowd, realizing he was a cyborg, immediately backed away.

Buzz-cut said nothing, pulled up his pants, and left.

Zhang Xingmin opened the envelope Buzz-cut had thrown, reading the contents. His expression became grave. “A banquet at the Hongmen Gate,” he announced.