Chapter 44: The Bear's Roar

Chen Fan knew danger was coming, just not that it would arrive so quickly. In a reflexive act of self-defense, he raised his arm and intercepted the brick midair. With no enhancement from any attribute, he endured the blow with nothing but his ordinary flesh and bone.

“Damn, that hurt so much I could cry for my parents.”

Once the crisis had passed, Chen Fan retreated in a crouched stance, keeping a safe distance from his opponent.

“You’re certainly diligent, lying in wait for me since the end of training. I suppose you’re a thug hired by Wei Youlong?” Chen Fan scrutinized his assailant—a slender, clean-cut figure with neatly trimmed hair, clad in a high school uniform he couldn’t quite identify.

He Wei remained silent, gripping the brick tightly, his eyes locked on Chen Fan’s, neither eager to fight nor inclined to flee.

“Hey, you went to high school with Wei Youlong, didn’t you? How much did he pay you to risk your neck? We can talk this over,” Chen Fan ventured, seeing the stern expression on the other’s face.

He Wei said nothing, scanning their surroundings. For speed, Chen Fan had taken a shortcut, a path with few pedestrians, and the ambush had been set at a corner where the streetlamp was broken, leaving the area poorly lit at night.

“Afraid I’ll figure out who you are? There’s no hiding from me. I know Wei Youlong’s background, and it wouldn’t take much to investigate his classmates. You won’t stay hidden for long.”

Chen Fan had no intention of running. Hiding wouldn’t solve the problem, and he wasn’t afraid of a fair fight—after all, he had military boxing under his belt, giving him the psychological edge.

He Wei smirked, “Dragon paid two thousand yuan to teach you a lesson. Just a few hits with a brick, nothing serious. You’ll only need to rest in the hospital for a couple of days.”

Seeing his opponent pull back slightly and ready himself, Chen Fan anchored his stance, weighing which move from his military boxing would bring victory.

“Where will he aim next? What if he throws the brick? Stay calm, don’t let Wei Youlong get his way. As long as he doesn’t strike a vital spot, a bit of blood won’t matter.” Confirming He Wei had no sharp weapons, Chen Fan fixed his gaze on the brick in his hand.

“Ha!”

He Wei lunged at Chen Fan, who immediately lowered his center of gravity, twisting his body in preparation for a spinning kick to knock the assailant down.

Smack!

Chen Fan felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. His vision blurred, and his movements faltered for a split second, forcing him to block with his elbow.

“Damn it! You sneaky little rat—hiding another guy behind me.” Chen Fan clutched the back of his head, picking up the weapon that had fallen—a battered old Nokia.

“Hurry up and finish him, get the money, stop running your mouth. Qin Peilin, you hid in the grass for ages and only now show yourself.” Seeing Chen Fan caught off guard, He Wei intended to strike while the iron was hot and collect his reward.

Qin Peilin moved in from nearby, grabbing a red brick from the flowerbed by the path. His crotch was soaked, and he smiled, “Nature calls, you know. The grass was full of mosquitoes—nearly ruined me.”

“Wei Youlong really doesn’t know how to pick his men. Just two unreliable thugs,” Chen Fan muttered, massaging his head, the aftershock making him feel as if his body were split apart.

He Wei laughed, “If he’d hired real gangsters, they might have gone too far and gotten you seriously hurt. We’re professionals—guaranteed to hurt but not cripple. As for whether Dragon will keep sending people after you, that’s not my concern.”

Chen Fan shook his head, roaring, “Let’s see who’s still standing in the end!”

He Wei quickly raised the brick, aiming at Chen Fan, but Chen Fan didn’t intend to dodge. He charged straight ahead, throwing a fierce hook that shattered the brick.

Crack—crunch.

His fist broke the brick, then transformed into a blade. Chen Fan drove his fingertips like daggers into He Wei’s hand, tearing a three-centimeter gash between his fingers with a sharp, crisp sound.

Seeing the situation turn dire, Qin Peilin hurled his brick at Chen Fan. Chen Fan tossed aside the cumbersome Nokia, calculated the trajectory, and snatched the brick from the air, crushing it to dust in his grasp.

“Damn, what kind of rubbish are these school bricks? They crumble so easily.” Qin Peilin failed to notice the agony on He Wei’s face, naïvely blaming the weapon.

Smack!

“Teach you to misbehave, teach you to attack people, teach you to be a mangy dog.”

Chen Fan slapped He Wei across the face, leaving a vivid red imprint on his fair skin, knocking his jaw so askew he couldn’t close his mouth.

Only now did Qin Peilin sense something was wrong. He’d meant to rush to his friend’s aid, but instead stood frozen, watching.

Smack!

“Don’t like your face, so what if I hit you?”

Chen Fan landed another slap—this one with the flourish of Armstrong’s spiral spin. He Wei, like a ballet dancer swept up in ecstasy, spun in slow motion, eyes closed, landing in Qin Peilin’s arms.

Unable to bear He Wei’s weight, the two crashed to the ground.

“Go back and tell Wei Youlong—anyone who crosses me will pay the price.” Chen Fan sneered, leaping forward in a stride to pin the two down, raining blows on them like a windshield wiper set to high speed.

“There. Job done. Time to walk away.” Glancing at the two battered figures on the ground, Chen Fan shrugged and jogged back to the dormitory.

Xu Changhui, startled by Chen Fan’s sudden arrival, slammed his laptop shut and called out, “Fan, you’re back! That was a long meal.”

Chen Fan noticed something odd about his left hand and tactfully replied, “Ran into some trouble on the way, but it’s settled. I’ll shower first.”

“Alright, go ahead,” Xu Changhui breathed a sigh of relief. Once Chen Fan entered the bathroom, he slipped his left hand back into his pants.

It was only after being struck by the Nokia that Chen Fan discovered the hidden skill of the Bear Badge. Originally, the toy bear could only warn of danger, but when Chen Fan was hurt, it transformed into an enraged bear, attacking like a wild beast. Just the slaps alone were enough to incapacitate an ordinary person.

“That was satisfying—so many slaps and not even my hand hurts.” Chen Fan looked at his palm, then tried a playful swing at the bathroom pipes.

“Ow! Damn, that hurts.”

He shook his reddened hand, rubbing soap over his smooth hips, realizing that the bear’s rage mode wasn’t permanent and required a certain trigger threshold.

Wrapped in a towel, Chen Fan checked his phone messages, only to stumble upon an unexpected discovery.