Supreme Heir Son-in-law

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Mastering the Situation

When Xu Ke arrived, a few hooligans were in the middle of a lively conversation, each having downed several bottles of beer, their faces flushed red like monkey buttocks, chatting and laughing loudly.

As soon as Xu Ke walked in and saw the scene before him, his eyes reddened almost instantly, the veins on his temple throbbed violently. Xu Ke, exuding a murderous aura, approached the table, and before anyone could react, he kicked the table, flipping it over, sending dishes sliding off and splattering everyone with soup and beer.

"What the fuck, who the hell is this? Are you crazy?" Brother Biao was the most drenched, his large floral shirt soaked through, the lion’s head dish he hadn’t touched was now all over him. At that moment, he held a meatball in each hand, and the alcohol made his temper even more explosive; with a slight squeeze, the stewed lion’s head crumbled into mush in his hand.

Looking at the sorry state of everyone, Xu Ke’s anger hadn’t diminished in the slightest. He took long strides amidst the chaos and was suddenly in front of Brother Biao, delivering a kick to his waist with full force. Before Brother Biao knew what was happening, he felt himself airborne, hearing something crack within, followed by intense pain in his waist and hip. Almost instantly, cold sweat broke out all over him, and his earlier tipsy head quickly sobered up.

Brother Biao’s scream, controlled by the pain, successfully brought the entire restaurant to a standstill. His underlings were stunned by the unexpected turn of events, standing there like puppets, unsure of what to do. To a bystander, it might appear as if someone had pressed a pause button.

"What are you standing around for, didn’t you see I was ambushed? Get him for me!" Brother Biao, seeing his men obediently standing still, was furious enough to want to kick each of them, but his movement was restricted by the searing pain in his waist, forcing him to shout loudly. Even merely shouting pulled at his wound, making him gasp in pain.

Luckily, Brother Biao’s words brought the stunned crowd back to their senses. A young man with blue dyed hair, his cheeks flushed red from the alcohol, charged forward with his fists raised, "How dare you hit Brother Biao, watch me—ah!" Before he could finish, Xu Ke kicked him in the chest, sending him flying, and upon hitting the ground, he coughed up blood and passed out completely.

"You’ve got some nerve, daring to hit people right in front of us. You must have a death wish." A lackey with green hair spoke slurred and belligerently, pointing at Xu Ke while belching drunkenly, making Brother Biao, who was leaning against the wall, seethe with anger at his useless underlings, feeling a trace of bitterness rising in his chest, as if he could spit out blood at any moment.

The lackey continued to berate Xu Ke while belching but was suddenly grabbed by Xu Ke, who twisted the outstretched finger with a cold smirk. The finger twisted at an odd angle, and the lackey, who moments ago was berating, paused for a moment, then unleashed a high-pitched scream as if piercing the ceiling. noveldrama

Green Hair’s scream finally snapped the group out of their drunken stupor. Their eyes, now staring at Xu Ke, were filled not with drunken haze but with endless fury and a desire to tear him apart. If it were a normal person under the gaze of such a crowd, they would certainly feel uncomfortable, perhaps unable to stand if timid, but Xu Ke instead felt a rush of excitement.

He could even feel the blood beneath his skin, once flowing slowly, now pounding with fervor, nearly igniting his whole being.

Xu Ke licked his lip, speaking coldly and repressively, "Sober now?"

"Which gang are you from, daring to mess with us? Do you know who’s backing us? Ever heard of Zhao Er Ye? Are you willing to offend him? I’ll give you a chance; kneel now and apologize to us, stand there quietly and let us break your limbs, and pay each of us here half a million for our trouble. Each person you hit, five million, and we’ll let it go. Otherwise, don’t blame us for being rude," a hulking man pushed the person in front of him aside and arrogantly approached Xu Ke.

"Heh, seems I wasn’t harsh enough, your drunkenness hasn’t worn off; otherwise, why would you be daydreaming in daylight?" Xu Ke’s voice, low and slightly mocking, replied.

"What did you say?" The fat lackey didn’t hear Xu Ke clearly because of his low voice and took two steps forward, raising his voice.

But Xu Ke didn’t answer this time. His palm struck at the man’s chest, with fingers like iron spikes sinking into him. The man’s flesh rippled outward from where Xu Ke hit, like waves on a shore.

His layer of fat acted like armor, keeping him unscathed from ordinary attacks. Hence, he dared to confront Xu Ke unprepared, seeing Xu Ke’s slim frame as non-threatening even if he stood still. So when Xu Ke struck, his face carried mockery, belittling the other’s recklessness.

But the next second, his mocking smile froze, his face contorting slightly. The bone in his chest where Xu Ke struck felt split by a knife, the pain draining the color from his face. The previously downed men could groan and scream, but he couldn’t utter a sound, avoiding even unnecessary breathing due to the severe pain.

The man held his chest, slowly squatting down, trying to find a comfortable position, then squatted there like growing mushrooms, waiting for his brothers to avenge him.

"Anyone else want to have a go?" Xu Ke asked calmly, looking at the remaining men still standing.

"Kid, don’t be arrogant. I’ll make you kneel and call me grandpa. Brothers, attack!" With the earlier examples in mind, they didn’t approach one by one but swarmed together, hoping to overpower Xu Ke with sheer numbers.