Madman!

Chapter 32: Bloodbath in the Dark Alley

As Chen Wujun walked through the alley, he was already adjusting his body's condition, casting everything from his mind. The distant clamor gradually faded away.

His heartbeat grew faster and stronger with every step.

Like war drums on a battlefield, driving his blood to surge through every vein.

Joy in battle, invincible in spirit!

Several figures burst from the darkness. Chen Wujun narrowed his eyes for just a moment.

A sharp gleam flickered behind those narrowed lids. His feet moved as if greased — without any visible lift of his legs, his entire body "slid" backward.

Several clubs whistled through empty air where he'd been standing.

Chen Wujun felt the hot blood rushing to his head. He didn't need to hold a standing stance — every hair on his body was already standing on end.

His foot stomped down with a resounding thud, and he crashed into one man's chest, his hand driving a blade into the man's neck before ripping it free in a flash.

A jet of hot blood sprayed across Chen Wujun's face. Combined with the killing intent radiating from him, his expression was terrifying.Crashing in, stabbing the neck, withdrawing the blade — the entire sequence was lightning-fast. Before the others could even react, Chen Wujun had already executed a Triangle Step to slide to the flank, twisted his body around his spine as an axis, and slammed a spinning elbow into the second man's face.

Chen Wujun's elbows were now hard enough to snap wood, and his strength was immense. The man's face caved in instantly — blood, mucus, and spit erupting all at once.

His vision went black and he toppled backward.

Only then did the rest react. Two Horse Boys swung their clubs at Chen Wujun, while the last one — a muscular youth in a tight tank top — let his expression shift dramatically.

"Watch out — this kid fights dirty!"

He simultaneously wound up his own club, surging forward a step before bringing it crashing down with far greater force and speed than the others.

Clearly a New Arts practitioner.

Three clubs descended at once, and the alley was too narrow — Chen Wujun had almost nowhere to dodge.

Yet his feet slipped sideways, and he vanished from the tank-top youth's sight in an instant.

Chen Wujun executed a lateral step, his center of gravity plunging sharply. His body dropped by half its height, not only evading all three clubs but also using the Horse Boy beside him to block the tank-top youth's line of sight.

The blade in his hand plunged into the Horse Boy's groin.

The Horse Boy's club clattered to the ground. His entire face twisted in agony before he let out half a blood-curdling scream.

"Aagh—!"

Squelch!

Chen Wujun rose and drove the blade into his neck in one fluid motion.

The remaining half of the scream dissolved into a strangled, gurgling rasp.

Chen Wujun shoved the dying man toward the tank-top youth and scrambled along the wall, darting past him.

In that brief instant, he'd already identified the tank-top youth as a New Arts practitioner. Even if the youth wasn't as skilled as he was, they had numbers on their side.

Especially with more people behind — at least six or seven more.

If he couldn't take down the tank-top youth quickly and got boxed in from both sides, he'd be in real danger.

If he could just round the corner... right where those men had been hiding earlier, he'd stashed a pot-lid-sized square wooden board that could serve as a shield.

Though Chen Wujun thrived in battle, his mindset brimming with invincible killing intent, his mind remained crystal clear — a still mirror reflecting everything.

The tank-top youth saw his own man shoved toward him and didn't bother catching the body. He leaped backward, only to see Chen Wujun scurry along the wall like a great cat, darting out past him.

Instantly, he swung his club in a diagonal arc at Chen Wujun's skull. The strike was fast and vicious, the displaced air letting out a sharp whoosh.

Even if it missed his head, it would catch Chen Wujun's shoulder.

Chen Wujun couldn't afford to take that hit — one blow could shatter his shoulder.

But the club was too fast to dodge! Chen Wujun rapidly adjusted his center of gravity, executed a Triangle Step to close the distance on the tank-top man, and thrust the blade at his chest while simultaneously hooking his left elbow upward to collide with the club's shaft.

The youth saw a flash of cold steel before his eyes and stumbled back a step, then felt a sting across his chest.

Chen Wujun's thrust hadn't landed squarely but had sliced across the youth's pectoral instead, leaving a shallow wound.

At the same time, his hardened elbow smashed into the weakest point of the club's shaft where no leverage could be applied.

Bang!

The bat was knocked wide, nearly flying from the youth's grip entirely.

Chen Wujun's elbow throbbed with numbness. He stamped his foot and bolted around the corner, kicking over a stack of wooden crates before yanking out the board hidden behind them.

It was only about the size of a pot lid, but it had a crude handle nailed to the back.

With the board in hand, Chen Wujun's confidence surged. One hand gripping the wooden shield, the other holding his short blade, he fixed his gaze — cold and venomous as a serpent — on the tank-top man before him.

At that moment, seven more people rushed into the alley.

"Did you get him?"

"Damn it — this kid's vicious! Get over here!" The tank-top man's face twisted with fury as he wound up and swung his club at Chen Wujun.

Chen Wujun sidestepped, pivoting his body halfway as the shield angled to one side, deflecting the bat's force. The tank-top man felt his club skid uselessly along the shield's surface.

Simultaneously, Chen Wujun feinted, his body swaying as if to slash at the hand gripping the club. The tank-top man's heart lurched and he scrambled backward.

But Chen Wujun's foot cracked against the ground with a Shock Step as he surged into the man's chest, the folding knife in his hand carving arc after arc of cold steel through the dark alley.

The tank-top man retreated only two steps before his back hit the wall. His heart sank as he lashed out with a desperate kick at Chen Wujun.

But that kick was exactly what Chen Wujun wanted. He burst forward two paces with a Shock Step, then instantly transitioned into a Triangle Step, pivoting to the youth's flank. The folding knife plunged into the youth's side, then ripped savagely across.

The gash stretched a hand's length wide. His innards nearly spilled out.

The youth was scared out of his wits. The club clattered from his hands as he shoved against the wooden shield with everything he had left, pushing Chen Wujun away.

In the throes of death, the youth had mustered every last ounce of strength — the force was far from insignificant.

Chen Wujun didn't bother finishing him off. Behind him, another attacker was already swinging a club at the back of his skull.

He ducked and threw himself backward, dodging the club while driving his elbow back like a spear, launching the man over half a meter away.

Then Chen Wujun retreated into the shadows beyond the corner once more — shield in one hand, short blade in the other — listening to the approaching footsteps, calculating the distance.

He also fought to control his breathing.

In those brief moments, Chen Wujun's heart had been hammering wildly.

Not from exhaustion, but from the explosive bursts of movement that had sent his adrenaline skyrocketing and driven his heart rate to its absolute peak.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the tank-top youth slide slowly down the wall, back pressed against it, hands clutching his torn side, leaving a smear of crimson on the brickwork.

The youth's face had gone deathly white.

The seven pursuers charged into the alley and covered several dozen meters before they saw bodies strewn across the ground. But having rushed from the relatively bright Longjin Street into this dark passage, their eyes hadn't adjusted. They couldn't make out the specifics — only that their target wasn't among the fallen.

"After him!" bellowed one of them, a muscular man covered in tattoos.

"Careful... he's there!" The youth with the slashed belly pointed toward the corner where Chen Wujun stood, managing one hoarse shout.

But the group couldn't see what lay beyond that corner — they had no idea Chen Wujun was standing right there, waiting for them.

As the chaotic footsteps closed in and several of them rounded the corner, Chen Wujun burst out with the shield raised and drove the folding knife into one man's abdomen in rapid succession.

"Shit!" The others felt their scalps prickle as they swung their clubs at Chen Wujun.

Chen Wujun shoved the stabbed man aside, slipped backward, and retreated behind the corner again.

He silently tallied the count in his head.

Lidong had actually sent twelve men to ambush him.

He'd stabbed several, knocked down two more, and there were still six outside.

"Son of a bitch — he hasn't run!" one of them cursed.

They exchanged glances. Three of them raised their clubs and rushed the corner simultaneously.

The alley was so narrow that three abreast was already shoulder-to-shoulder.

Chen Wujun stomped.

With a thunderous bang, he launched himself forward like a battering ram. The wooden shield angled outward in a tilted wedge, one push and one deflection sending two bats careening to the side. The third man couldn't reach him at all.

Chen Wujun's blade slipped into the first man's chest in a flash — three rapid stabs — before he drove his knee into the second man, shoving him back. His feet slid beneath him as he retreated into the alley once more, then spun and bolted.

"He's running! Don't let him get away!" The remaining few felt their scalps go numb and their lungs nearly burst with rage.

Bodies littered the ground, but these men were gang members through and through — they'd seen plenty of corpses.

This many people sent to catch one man, and this many had gone down while the target escaped? They'd never be able to show their faces again.

The moment they gave chase, the group inevitably spread out, some faster than others.

Chen Wujun sprinted over twenty meters. The two closest pursuers had closed to within three meters.

Suddenly, Chen Wujun dropped his center of gravity. His feet skimmed across the ground in a sharp slide before he planted one foot and launched himself back toward them.

The two behind him swung their clubs down hard.

Chen Wujun blocked and deflected again with his shield, knocking both bats aside.

The lead pursuer had been ready this time and lashed out with a kick.

But Chen Wujun switched to a Triangle Step, instantly sliding to the man's flank — one stab into the thigh, one into the gut, then one into the neck.

Before he'd even finished, two more clubs came crashing down. He tilted the shield upward at an angle to block and deflect.

Thwack! Thwack! Though the shield shed most of the force, the impacts still rattled his hand numb.

He kicked the nearest body into the two behind, blocking their advance, then thrust his blade at the man beside him's stomach.

That man's eyes went wide with terror as he stumbled backward, but Chen Wujun's footwork was faster. He closed the gap and drove the knife into the man's belly, stab after stab.

Then he pulled back, creating distance — wooden board in one hand, blade in the other, his flickering gaze locked on the three remaining men.

By now his face and body were drenched in blood. He looked like a vengeful specter.

The three survivors felt their scalps crawl, their expressions shifting between dark and uncertain as they stared at Chen Wujun.

Of their twelve, only three were still standing.

This kid's strikes were too vicious, too ruthless.

"Go back and get reinforcements!" One of them drew a deep breath and ordered the Horse Boy behind him.

Two of these three were New Arts practitioners — significantly stronger and higher-ranked — which was precisely why they'd fallen behind during the chase.

The one being sent back was just a regular member. Brave and willing to fight, but far outmatched in ability.

So he was sent to deliver the message.

In a nearby window, someone peeked out briefly, then pulled their head back inside and drew the curtain shut, before cautiously peering through the crack.

None of the men on the ground paid any attention.

"Kid, we underestimated you!"

"Vicious and merciless — but you're dead today. I'm going to cripple you." One of them spoke through gritted teeth, his gaze ice-cold. If looks could kill, he would have skinned Chen Wujun alive.

"Didn't expect you to be this weak! If running your mouth actually worked, you could be governor!" Chen Wujun taunted between heavy breaths, baring his teeth in a mocking grin. Then he suddenly launched himself backward, spun around, and ran.

"Damn it! Get back here!" The two cursed in unison and took off after him, clubs in hand.

Chen Wujun sprinted a dozen meters before cutting sharply around a corner into an adjacent alley.

The two cursed under their breath. The Walled City's alleys were a labyrinth — but they couldn't give up the chase. They only slowed their pace, wary that Chen Wujun might double back on them at any moment.

Yet all they heard were faint footsteps growing fainter. When they rounded the corner, Chen Wujun was already far ahead.

They muttered another curse and broke into a sprint.

By the time they reached the next junction, they slowed again.

Chen Wujun had vanished.

Both sides of the alley were lined with stacked crates and flattened cardboard boxes. In many spots, only one person could squeeze through at a time.

The two exchanged a glance, their eyes cold and grim. If they let him escape, neither of them could go back.

They could only press forward at a brisker pace, clubs raised, until they reached a stack of cardboard. One of them booted it over — the boxes scattered across the ground.

No one hiding behind them.

But they hadn't gone much further when a tower of wooden crates ahead suddenly came toppling down toward one of them.

And both men caught sight of those eyes — watching them from behind the falling crates, cold and venomous as a serpent.