Listening to Cai Ji's words, Mo Han couldn't help but swallow a dry gulp of saliva. At that moment, the door to the emergency exit creaked open again, and everyone turned their heads toward the sound.
What they saw was a figure drenched in blood, gripping a massive cleaver-like blade. His face was obscured by gore, but the faint curve of his lips hinted at a chilling amusement.
"So many people left," Tang Ze remarked casually as he approached Cai Ji. With a swift motion, he raised the blade and severed Cai Ji's head in one fluid strike—a grim demonstration of how easily life could be extinguished.
Some of the underlings began to flee, screaming as they ran. One man, so frantic that he forgot to put on his shoe covers, felt the rubber soles of his shoes melt almost instantly upon contact with the wet pavement. When his bare feet touched the water pooling on the ground, he collapsed in agony, convulsing for a few seconds before going still.
Another man, wearing PU-soled shoes, bolted as fast as he could. But when the splashing water landed on his back, it burned through his skin like acid. He let out a sharp cry and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
Tang Ze flicked his blade, sending a spray of crimson blood into the air, droplets scattering like a macabre snowfall. Resting the weapon on his shoulder, he said coolly, "Why are you standing there? Run."
Even Mo Han, the group's leader, didn't hesitate to turn and run. Seeing their boss flee, the others scrambled after him without a second thought. Tang Ze stood calmly at the doorway, watching them scatter like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
Mo Han, seeing that Tang Ze wasn't pursuing them, felt a flicker of relief replace his fear. His voice trembled with rage as he shouted back, "You bastard! You'll pay for killing my brother! Next time, I'll cut you down myself!"
But no sooner had he finished his threat than he saw Tang Ze set down his blade and pull out what looked like waterproof waders—the kind used for fishing in ponds. However, these weren't ordinary rubber waders. When Mo Han saw Tang Ze pick up the massive blade again and start walking toward him, his face went pale, and he bolted once more.
The others cursed Mo Han silently. If he hadn't provoked Tang Ze, they might have gotten away. But now, the killer was on their heels again.
As they fled into the streets, they encountered a car missing its tires, its rims grinding against the asphalt. Inside were four men laughing hysterically as they plowed into two of the fleeing gang members. The two in the backseat stuck out their middle fingers, taunting, "You idiots! We'll crush you all!"
Tang Ze paused for a moment, then hurled his blade like an arrow. It pierced cleanly through the necks of both the driver and front passenger. The car careened out of control, crashing into a tree in the greenbelt.
The fleeing gang members glanced back, their faces twisted with terror, but they kept running toward their own neighborhood.
Tang Ze strode calmly to the wreckage. The two survivors stumbled out of the backseat, blood streaming from their foreheads. Pulling the blade free from one of the corpses, Tang Ze said coldly, "I hate being called an idiot."
The man who had been so arrogant moments ago now looked at Tang Ze with pleading eyes. But it made no difference. The blade fell, and his head rolled away, leaving his lifeless body sprawled on the ground. As his gaze faded, he stared at his own decapitated corpse and the demonic figure standing over him, filled with regret for his earlier arrogance.
Tang Ze's mind remained as calm as a still lake. To him, ending a life was as trivial as swatting a fly. He gazed at the fleeing crowd, their faces etched with terror, and a faint smile crept onto his lips.
"Close the gate! Close it now!" The first man to reach the neighborhood screamed at the top of his lungs. People peered out from their windows, confused. Why were the men back so soon? They hadn't brought any supplies.
Had they failed to raid the other neighborhood?
And why were so many of them missing?
"Wait for me! Wait! I'm not inside yet!" A man lagging behind shouted desperately, his knife lost somewhere along the way. His only thought was to get home, lock the door, and hide under the bed, hoping this was all just a nightmare.
Mo Han, seeing Tang Ze approaching, made a snap decision. "Close the gate!"
The double iron doors slowly shut, and the chain was quickly secured. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"If he dares to climb over, stab him to death!" Mo Han said, still panicked but trying to think ahead.
"Open the door! Open it! Brother, I gave you water yesterday! Please, my wife and child are inside!" The man left outside fell to his knees, begging.
But the men inside were pale-faced, too afraid to respond. On the third floor, a woman and her child looked out the window at the scene below.
"Mom, that's Dad. Why aren't they letting him in?" The little girl, about seven or eight years old, asked innocently.
The woman, in her early thirties, was frozen with fear, her chapped lips trembling.
When she saw the young man with the blade walk up to her husband and swing it with lethal precision, severing his head, she instinctively covered her mouth and her child's eyes.
At the gate, Tang Ze looked at the men inside the iron doors. He kicked the severed head toward a trash can, blood still gushing from the body.
"An eye for an eye. Now it's my turn to take what's yours," Tang Ze said with a light chuckle that sent shivers down their spines.
Mo Han gripped his knife, laughing maniacally. "Kid, if you dare climb over, I'll gut you like a fish."
Tang Ze studied the iron gate. He could climb over it, but why bother?
With a focused gaze, he swung the massive blade.
Clang!
A shower of sparks erupted as the chain was severed.
The men stared in disbelief. Was this even human strength?
The man who had been somewhat confident moments ago now screamed and bolted toward the building, wishing he had an extra pair of legs.
Tang Ze calmly opened the iron gate and secured it again. It was clear he didn't intend to let anyone in the neighborhood escape. A one-sided massacre was about to unfold.
Mo Han, back in his home, was in a daze. He began frantically packing his clothes.
"Husband, what are you doing? What's going on? Where are the others?"
Mo Han didn't answer. His hands trembled as he packed, his pants soaked with urine without him even noticing.
"Husband! Husband!"
"Ah!" Mo Han snapped out of it, looking at his wife with terror in his eyes.
"Leave! We can't stay here! He's a demon, a devil! He killed everyone!"
Seeing her husband in such a state, the woman didn't know what to do. Suddenly, her daughter pointed out the window. "Mom, it's raining again."
Mo Han froze. He slowly raised his head, watching as the raindrops began to wet the glass window. He collapsed to the floor.
"It's over. No one can leave now."
"Quick! Close the door! Push the furniture against it! Hurry!" Mo Han screamed in terror, scaring his wife half to death.
The once-dominant boss of the neighborhood had been reduced to a quivering wreck. Tang Ze's ruthlessness had shattered his spirit.
Downstairs, Tang Ze had just entered the building when the rain began to fall.
Perfect. Now no one could escape.
He walked up to Room 101 in Building 1.
Straightening his appearance, he knocked on the door with a smile. "Residents of Room 101, your delivery is here."