Chapter 7: The Fierce Battle in the Eastern Suburbs

The night shrouded the eastern suburbs in darkness, and an eerie silence hung over the abandoned factory. The only sound that broke the stillness was the low wail of the wind as it passed through rusted sheets of metal. Lin Feng stood outside the factory, his sharp gaze sweeping over the corroded iron gate. The corners of his mouth curled slightly. Last night's submission of Li Tianhao and the ensuing panic of the Zhao Corporation confirmed that his plan was advancing steadily. And tonight, the clandestine meeting between Lin Zhengxiong and Zhao Wanshan presented a golden opportunity to further dismantle his enemies.

Pushing open the iron gate, Lin Feng stepped in lightly. The dim lighting inside barely illuminated the decaying machinery, while the air reeked of rust and mildew. At the center of the space, Lin Zhengxiong and Zhao Wanshan sat at a battered table, surrounded by seven or eight burly men gripping steel pipes and daggers. Lin Zhengxiong lit a cigar, exhaling a swirl of smoke before sneering, "So what if Lin Feng is back? That useless brat really thinks he can overturn everything?"

Zhao Wanshan nodded in agreement, his voice low and sinister. "I've contacted the Shadow Syndicate. They promised to send experts tonight. Lin Feng won't live past tonight." He raised his glass and downed the liquor in one gulp, his face brimming with smug satisfaction. Neither of them realized that danger was already lurking in the darkness.

Just then, the factory doors were kicked open with a resounding bang, shattering the quiet of the night. Lin Feng's silhouette appeared at the entrance, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, his eyes as sharp as blades. "Kill me?" His voice was calm but carried an undeniable chill. "Do you really think you're worthy?"

The factory fell into dead silence. Lin Zhengxiong and Zhao Wanshan's faces paled instantly. Lin Zhengxiong jumped up, his cigar falling to the ground as he roared, "Lin Feng, you're courting death!" Zhao Wanshan slammed the table and waved his hand. "Brothers, get him! Cripple him!"

The burly men charged forward, steel pipes swinging, daggers gleaming under the dim light, all aimed at Lin Feng.

Yet Lin Feng remained unfazed. In a flash, his figure flickered like a phantom among them. His movements were so swift that no one could track his trajectory. A series of dull thuds filled the air, followed by sharp cracks of breaking bones. Within a minute, the ground was strewn with groaning bodies—some clutching their stomachs, others holding onto broken limbs, their faces contorted in agony.

Dusting off his hands, Lin Feng slowly walked toward Lin Zhengxiong, who stumbled backward in fear until his back hit the cold, hard wall. There was nowhere left to run. Lin Feng pressed a foot against his chest, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp for breath. "Lin Zhengxiong, the debt from three years ago starts getting settled today. You framed my parents and stole the Lin Corporation. Enjoying yourself?"

Lin Zhengxiong trembled, his voice shaking. "Lin Feng, I'm your uncle! You can't do this to me!" He struggled desperately, but Lin Feng merely increased the pressure under his foot, making him cough up blood, his complexion turning ghastly pale.

"Uncle?" Lin Feng chuckled coldly. "When you set fire to my home three years ago, did you consider me your nephew?"

Shifting his gaze to Zhao Wanshan, Lin Feng's expression darkened. "And you, Zhao Wanshan. You helped Lin Zhengxiong seize my family's assets and even manipulated Liu Wan'er into betraying me. Did you really think I'd forget?"

Zhao Wanshan, paralyzed with fear, collapsed onto the floor, his legs too weak to support him. "Lin Feng, I was wrong! I didn't know the Shadow Syndicate would be so ruthless! I was just following orders!" He frantically tried to absolve himself, but the killing intent in Lin Feng's eyes only grew stronger.

"The Shadow Syndicate?" Lin Feng narrowed his eyes. "Tell me where they are." His voice was low, but the menace behind it was unmistakable.

Zhao Wanshan swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "I—I don't know their exact location. All I know is that they have a contact point in the northern suburbs of Jiang City, an underground casino. Some top assassins will be arriving there tomorrow…" Before he could finish, Lin Feng delivered a sharp kick to his jaw. Zhao Wanshan let out a pained cry and collapsed, unconscious.

Lin Feng released Lin Zhengxiong, then turned his gaze to the darker depths of the factory. Piles of abandoned machinery cast long shadows, but something—or someone—seemed to be lurking there. He sneered, "Come out. Stop hiding."

A moment of silence followed before a black-clad figure emerged from the shadows. Draped in a dark robe, their face was masked, revealing only a pair of cold, piercing eyes.

"So, you're Lin Feng?" The voice was hoarse, dripping with malice. "The Shadow Syndicate has let you live for three years—that's already a miracle. Tonight, your luck runs out." With a flick of the figure's wrist, a throwing knife sliced through the air, aiming straight for Lin Feng's forehead.

Lin Feng tilted his head slightly, dodging the blade by a hair's breadth as it embedded itself into the wall. He smirked. "An elite of the Shadow Syndicate? You don't seem that impressive."

Before his words fully landed, he launched forward. His fist, like a cannonball, hurtled toward the masked assassin. The assassin reacted swiftly, drawing a short sword to block, but the sheer force of Lin Feng's strike shattered the blade. The assassin was sent flying, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud before coughing up blood.

"Who leads the Shadow Syndicate?" Lin Feng stood over him, his voice frosty.

The assassin gasped for breath but managed a chilling smile. "You'll never find out." With those final words, he bit down on a hidden poison capsule under his tongue, instantly succumbing to death.

Lin Feng frowned, kneeling to inspect the corpse but found nothing useful. Standing up, he cast one last glance at the unconscious Lin Zhengxiong and Zhao Wanshan. "I'll spare your lives. Tomorrow, you're taking me to the northern suburbs."

Without another word, he strode out of the factory. The night wind howled past, carrying away the scent of blood.

Back at his office building, Lin Xue'er rushed over, concern written all over her face. "Brother, are you alright?"

Lin Feng ruffled her hair lightly. "I'm fine. Just some petty clowns." He turned serious. "Tomorrow, I'm heading to the northern suburbs. Stay here and wait for me."

Lin Xue'er nodded obediently, admiration gleaming in her eyes.

Inside his office, his bespectacled assistant approached. "Boss, we've acquired half of the Lin Corporation's shares. The Zhao Corporation's financial chain is breaking. They won't hold on much longer."

Lin Feng nodded. "Good. Tomorrow, we force them to kneel."

His eyes burned with determination. The battle in the eastern suburbs was just another step toward his ultimate revenge.