水蜜桃实验室

As soon as they entered, they were met with a stench of blood and burnt smell. Brother Hu, once a small-time hoodlum licking his wounds from knives, had been cut in fights many times, so he was particularly sensitive to the smell of blood.

Gazing at the dark marks of dried blood on the floor, a tightness gripped Brother Hu’s heart; a bloody battle had definitely taken place within this villa.

A few of his underlings, who had seen their share of action, also looked uneasily at Brother Hu. They had entered the villa eager for a big score, but now inside, their eagerness faltered, and they felt like bolting right away.

“Brother Hu, this place seems a bit unsettling,” Huang Mao said, his voice quivering with trepidation as he addressed Triangle Tiger.

“Dammit, what’s there to be scared of, it’s just a bit of blood. The blood I’ve shed in the past could fill this entire room; what’s this little amount?” Although Brother Hu felt a chill in his heart, he couldn’t show weakness and spoke boldly.

After all, he was the leader of this gang. If he showed fear first, his underlings would no longer listen to him and would surely flee in terror, making this visit a wasted effort.

Never mind the blood, first, let’s see if there is anything valuable to be found.

Brother Hu thought about it, pushed down the slight sense of dread in his heart, and ordered his subordinates, “Take out the tools you brought and start cleaning this place properly, do a professional job. I’m going to go upstairs and see if there’s anything worth taking.”

“Alright…” the crowd responded with disappointment.

They had come to steal, and nobody really wanted to be a janitor, but they didn’t dare disobey when Brother Hu spoke, so they took out brooms and mops and began to work.

The bloodstains here also quelled their thieving hearts quite a bit; the owner of this villa was clearly a dangerous person. If their theft was discovered, they could very well become the next bloodstains in this place.

With this thought, everyone started working diligently.

Seeing that his men were immersed in cleaning, Brother Hu felt more at ease. He took off the conspicuous cleaning uniform and threw it on the sofa, then casually walked up to the third floor by himself.

As the leader of the small-time hoods, Triangle Tiger was not only brave but also cautious. After slowly making his way to the third floor, he began to carefully inspect the layout of the rooms. He then put on a pair of gloves that could prevent fingerprints and started cautiously rummaging through the house.

This villa was not only large in size but also had three floors and more than ten rooms. Brother Hu believed that even the owner couldn’t remember exactly where he kept all his belongings. If Brother Hu managed to steal just one or two expensive items, this venture would be profitably secured.

Throughout his search, Brother Hu saw many things that tempted him. A plasma TV over 90 inches wide, worth tens of thousands; a supercomputer from the Fruit company, worth hundreds of thousands; several paintings and calligraphies that looked extremely valuable—even though he wasn’t cultured and didn’t know the exact worth, they clearly were of great value.

There were also some art pieces on the desk, clearly finely crafted by masters—a rosewood carving, an obsidian ashtray, and an ivory pen holder. All ignited a strong desire for possession in Brother Hu.

But although Brother Hu desired them all, he was well aware that, in thieving, one must never take too much. Taking an excessive amount would surely alert the owner. Only by stealthily taking away a nondescript yet valuable item could he avoid danger and gain the most profit.

Brother Tiger picked for a long time, feeling a bit conflicted, so he sat down on the luxurious sofa on the third floor to take a break.

The sofa was covered with soft and comfortable cushions made from South American mink fur. Brother Tiger lay on the sofa as if he were sitting on a cloud, his whole body tightly enveloped by comfort, which made him marvel, “Dammit, the life of rich people is just too good, their sofa is a hundred times more comfortable than my bed.”

As Brother Tiger lay on the comfortable sofa philosophizing about life, outside the villa, a pair of eyes were hawkishly scanning the inside of the villa.

A man dressed in a Zhongshan suit squatted on a sycamore tree outside the villa, coldly observing everything inside.

He was the Martial Artist Iron Hand Master, who had come to Zhonghai City following Xu Fangcheng and Xu Wentao.

After getting off the plane, Xu Wentao used the Xu Family’s connections in Zhonghai City to find out about Xu Fan’s most recent residence, which was none other than the Star of Zhonghai villa.

Upon hearing the news, Xu Fangcheng’s face turned to anger, he couldn’t believe that Xu Fan, who had been swept out of the Xu Family’s door for so long, still dared to live in a property bought by the Xu Family, which was practically a death wish.

Moreover, from the intelligence provided by those in the know, Xu Fan was currently living in the villa with a little girl about four or five years old.

Upon hearing this, Xu Fangcheng revealed a playful smile, “This young master really is not easy to deal with. After being kicked out of the Xu Family, he still dares to live in my Xu Family’s villa with a little bastard child. He’s simply courting death. Iron Hand, once you enter that villa, catch that little bastard for me, too. I want to see what kind of trashy woman our dear young master of the Xu Family has fooled around with to produce this little bastard.”

Iron Hand quietly took note upon hearing this.

At this moment, Iron Hand stood on the tree trunk outside the villa, which was over five meters high, firmly grasping a branch as thick as a thigh.

The hard branch of the sycamore tree felt like soft foam in his grasp, his palm strength creating a hand-shaped indent on it.

Iron Hand was so named because he practiced one of Yan Country’s traditional martial arts sects, the Iron Palm Sect’s signature skill—Iron Sand Palm.

Iron Hand’s Iron Sand Palm was among the best within his sect. His hands could easily chop up roof tiles, and even hard rocks seemed fragile like tofu in Iron Hand’s palms, easily crushed into powder with a squeeze.

Initially, his gaze searched among the crowd sweeping inside the villa, but seeing they all wore cleaning uniforms, Iron Hand gradually showed a look of disappointment.

When Iron Hand’s gaze gradually shifted upstairs, through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, he spotted someone lying on the sofa who was not in a cleaning uniform.

A glint of surprise flashed through Iron Hand’s eyes, his figure shifted, and he astonishingly leaped four to five meters from the tree, landing on the villa’s second-floor balcony.

There was a window connecting the second-floor balcony to the house. Iron Hand opened the window and slowly walked towards the figure on the sofa.