Zhao Yiming stumbled mid-step and let out a frustrated scream.
"Goddammit! It's not bootleg—it's limited edition dark mode, you system bastard!!!"
He tightened his mask and bolted forward, cape fluttering behind.
The first gang mber didn't even have ti to react before Zhao's fist connected squarely with his jaw, sending him flying backward.
"Why does no one recognize this masterpiece?!"
Zhao shouted, dodging a punch from the right, countering with a swift kick to the gut.
Another rushed in from the left—Zhao grabbed his wrist and slamd his head straight into the guy's face.
"What's wrong with this generation?! Do they not respect fine craftsmanship?!"
"Oh wow, looks like Brother Zhao's on fire," Zhang Chuan comnted coolly from the sidelines, arms crossed, unbothered.
"I guess it's ti I get serious."
He stepped forward dramatically, his grass costu rustling ominously as he began to spin.
Yes—spin.
Like a deadly, hay-scented Beyblade, he rotated with increasing speed, his body a blur of flailing grass and chaos. Anyone foolish enough to get close got smacked repeatedly by flying leaves and vines.
"Wh-What the hell is this?!" one thug scread, shielding his face from the grass-whipping.
"STOP MOVING, YOU BASTARD!" another shouted, failing miserably to get close to Zhang, who was still spinning like a top on a sugar rush.
"Hmph! You weaklings don't understand the lethal elegance of my Spinning Grass Phoenix Dance!"
Zhang declared, before slapping one guy with a spinning backhand and launching a devastating knee to another's gut.
He grabbed another by the collar, lifted him effortlessly, and slamd his head onto his thigh in one swift, brutal motion. The poor guy collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
anwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Luo Yanyu stood face to face with the bald leader of the Gold Earth gang.
The man grinned, eyes dripping with sleaze as he looked her up and down.
"Well damn, those are so good boobs you got there, sweetheart," he whistled, licking his lips.
Luo Yanyu's eyes twitched.
Then she laughed.
"I'll show you how good they are—when they slap the perverted shit outta your ugly-ass face!"
The bald leader barely had ti to react before Luo Yanyu leapt into the air, her enormous fake breasts bouncing like twin wrecking balls ready to slam the shit out of him.
"Take this Slutty Lotus Palm of the Crimson Phoenix Courtesan attack!" she scread mid-air.
SMACK!
Her absurdly oversized chest slamd into his face with the force of a thousand punches. The man flew back like he got hit by a truck, crashing into two of his own gang mbers behind him.
"ACK—CAN'T BREATHE—THEY'RE MADE OF CENT—" the gang leader wheezed, flailing as the fake boobs remained stuck on his face suffocating him.
Before anyone else could help him, Yanyu bend down and spinning her head whipped it around like a flail, the sheer weight of the synthetic hair creating shockwaves as it sliced the air.
"Ultimate Technique: 10,000 Strand Demon-Seducing Hair No Jutsu!"
"W-Wait—what the—ARGHHH!"
WHACK!
She spun like a hurricane, her wig lashing out and catching three more gang mbers mid-sprint. One got tangled and dragged face-first across the concrete.
Another got caught in the wig ornant and scread as his nose bent sideways. A third tried to run—only for the wig to wrap around his ankle and slam him into a lamppost like a ragdoll.
Zhao Yiming stared, mouth wide open behind his mask.
"...I take back everything I said about the costu."
Zhang Chuan nodded slowly. "I think I just saw a man die by cleavage. Respect."
Even Li Daijin stood there in awe, muttering, "So that's the true power of cosplay..."
Luo Yanyu, panting with fury, planted one foot atop the groaning body of the gang leader.
Her makeup was sared, her wig half-dangling, and her chestplate slightly cracked—but she stood victorious.
"Perverts shall know pain," she growled. "Next ti, keep your eyes in your skull."
Li Daijin didn't even need to lift a finger. The thugs panicked and dragged their boss off the ground in a frenzy, scrambling like rats escaping a fire.
The sheer presence of the costud freak gang was burned into their mories—a trauma they'd carry for life.
anwhile, Luo Yanyu and her crew stood tall and proud, watching the gang scatter in disgrace. Another victory. Another win for the Black Orchid!
The tenants, who had been hiding since the start of the fight, slowly erged from their shops, clapping and cheering. To the group, it felt like petals were raining from the sky in slow motion.
In reality, it was just old cabbage leaves being tossed into the air in celebration.
But none of that mattered. For the first ti, the tenants saw hope—even if it ca in the form of costud weirdos. Hope was still hope.
***
After the fight, they were welcod into Madam He's ho for drinks. Tea, warm soup, and a mont to breathe.
Zhao Yiming sank into a chair, feeling that rare wave of peace... and satisfaction.
He glanced at the system window floating beside his vision, giving it a small, approving nod.
---
[Congratulations! You finished the quest perfectly!]
[Rewards can now be claid!]
[Rewards: $2,000 | Tenants 35 Friendship Affinity | 25 Trust | 1,500 AP]
[New Perk Unlocked: "Protecting the Weak"]
(When protecting soone during a fight, your Attack and Speed increase by 30%)
---
He grinned.
Not bad. And with yesterday's insane haul from Madam Ruan's quest—$125,000, 10,000 AP, and a seductive new perk—he was officially rich again.
[Gold-Finger Seducer]
(Every ti you offer money or gifts during flirtation or negotiation, your charm is doubled for 10 minutes.)
His wallet was fat. His perks were stacked.
Life was good.
But then—his mont of peace was interrupted.
Luo Yanyu, who had been sleeping with her head gently resting on his shoulder, suddenly stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. When she realized her position, her cheeks turned red.
But this ti... she didn't pull away. She didn't slap him. She just stayed there. Blushing, quiet.
That... was new.
Zhao Yiming blinked, uneasy. "Young lady, are you—"
Before he could finish, Luo Yanyu suddenly reached behind her hanfu, toward her lower waist—no, lower—and rummaged around, her expression dead serious.
A mont later, she pulled out several photos and docunts... from behind her skirt.
She handed them to him without a word.
"Here," she said, still flustered. "The woman you asked for."
Zhao Yiming accepted the papers cautiously, holding them like they were sacred scrolls. His eyebrow twitched.
'Did she really just pull these out from her...'
He dared not finish the thought.
But when his eyes dropped to the photo on top—he froze.
It was her.
Su ilin.
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