As Su Shuochi arrived at the factory gate, he saw the ground littered with men lying every which way, wailing and howling.
The sound of a siren—WEE-WOO... WEE-WOO...—grew steadily closer. An immense chill radiated from his eyes, and the air around him seemed to drop in temperature in an instant.
Consumed by fury, he unleashed a rain of fists, viciously pummeling Scarface and his men.
He struck their arms and legs, but his fists landed most often on their faces and heads.
Scarface curled into a ball, the ferocious assault nearly knocking him unconscious from the pain. He couldn't even manage to scream.
All he could do was wail uncontrollably. After what felt like an eternity, the rain of fists finally stopped.
Scarface lay on the ground like a dead dog, his eyes burning with intense hatred.
'If he could make a sound, he'd tell these ignorant fools exactly who they were dealing with.'
