harleyscars Page 198
Page 198
The call was from her agent, whose voice was trembling with terror: "Xian'er! Where are you?! Run! Hide! Something's happened at the company! A group of madmen stormed into the company and are killing everyone they see! They say... they say they're looking for you! They are... they're assassins from Vietnam!"
"The Vietnamese gang!"
The name and a classic Hong Kong film flashed through Long Yan's mind instantly.
At the same time, a piercing roar of a motorcycle engine came from outside the gate of Wulong Temple.
A dozen or so heavy motorcycles, like a black locust swarm, came to a stop in front of the mountain gate. More than twenty men with cold faces and fierce eyes jumped off. They were all dressed in black leather jackets, and what they carried were not swords or knives, but gleaming AK-47 assault rifles and Uzi submachine guns!
The leader was a thin man with a long scar on his face. He looked at the "Oolong Temple" plaque, a cruel sneer playing on his lips, and shouted into the building in broken Cantonese:
670 “Listen up, you guys inside! Hand over a woman named Wang Xian’er! She owes our boss a debt, and now it’s time to pay it back!”
"Anyone who dares to obstruct us will be killed without mercy!"
After saying that, he raised his AK47 without hesitation and pulled the trigger at the century-old plaque of Wulong Temple!
“Da da da da da—!”
A raging tongue of fire spewed out, and the bullets instantly shattered the plaque with the three large characters "Wulongyuan" written on it, sending wood chips flying everywhere and leaving it riddled with holes!
This is the most direct and blatant provocation!
They brought weapons of modern warfare to this sacred Buddhist sanctuary!
Hearing the shouts and gunshots outside, Wang Xian'er turned pale with fright, her body trembling uncontrollably. She never imagined that she would be hunted down by a group of ruthless Vietnamese assassins.
"It's...it's my fault that I dragged you all down..." Her voice trembled, filled with self-reproach.
Long Yan reached out and gently pressed her shoulder, a calming aura flowing in, which calmed her flustered mind.
“It’s none of your business.” Long Yan looked out the door, his eyes gradually turning cold. “It was they who…walked into the gates of hell.”
He turned to Zhang Ling and Master Zhihui and said, "Daoist Master, Senior Master, let's handle mortal matters in a mortal way. You two protect this place, and leave the troublemakers outside to me."
Having said that, he started walking alone towards the mountain gate amidst the hail of bullets.
Chapter 152 Dragon Flame Kills! Wang Xian'er is Terrified
A murderous aura filled the air in front of the Wulong Temple's gate.
More than twenty Vietnamese assassins, armed with heavy weaponry, formed a semi-circular encirclement, their dark gun barrels all pointed at the battered and wrecked door.
The scarred leader, Ah B (not the real Ah B, but a minor leader in the Vietnamese gang), casually tossed aside his emptied AK47, then pulled out a gleaming Gurkha knife from behind him, licked the blade, and his face was filled with bloodthirsty excitement.
This group of men were all veterans who had retired from the Vietnam War, and every one of them had blood on their hands. Killing was as simple to them as eating and drinking.
This mission was to help their drug lord in the Golden Triangle "collect a debt" from a female celebrity named Wang Xian'er. It's said that Wang Xian'er's father was once their lord's business partner, but he double-crossed them, absconding with a large sum of money and fleeing to Hong Kong. Now, it's only natural for the daughter to pay for her father's debts.
In their eyes, this was nothing more than an easy money-making trip. What difficulty could there be in storming into a dilapidated temple and seizing an unarmed woman?
"Squeak-"
Just as they were getting impatient, the dilapidated wooden door was slowly pushed open from the inside.
The woman who emerged was neither the weeping woman they had imagined, nor a panicked ordinary person.
Instead, it was a young monk wearing a gray robe.
He was tall and handsome, with an eerily calm demeanor. Facing more than twenty dark gun barrels, his steps were unwavering, his eyes as still as a deep well, as if these vicious killers were nothing more than chickens and dogs.
"Who are you? Where is Wang Xian'er?" Ah B frowned and asked sharply.
Long Yan did not answer his question, but looked at him calmly and slowly said, "The Buddhist temple is a pure land, unstained by blood. Lay down your weapons and turn back to the right path. Leave now, and this humble monk can forgive and forget."
His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached the ears of every assassin.
The assassins were taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! What did I just hear? This little monk is telling us to turn back from the dead?"
"Is he out of his mind? Doesn't he know what we're holding?"
"Brother B, stop wasting time talking to him, just shoot him dead and let's go inside to find someone!"
Ah B was so angry he laughed. He pointed his curved knife at Long Yan and said cruelly, "Little monk, I'll count to three. If you don't get out of here after three, I'll peel your skin off piece by piece!"
"one!"
"two!"
Long Yan looked at him quietly, gently shook his head, and a trace of pity appeared in his eyes.
"Stubborn."
Just as Ah B was about to shout "three", Long Yan moved!
His figure, like a ghost, left a faint afterimage in the spot before disappearing in an instant!
"Where is he?!" Ah B's pupils contracted sharply, and alarm bells rang in his mind.
The next second, an indescribable sense of crisis came from behind him!
He turned around abruptly and saw only an enlarged palm, growing larger and larger in his field of vision.
That was Long Yan's palm.
"boom!"
A muffled thud, like a heavy hammer hitting a watermelon.
Long Yan's palm lightly landed on A-B's chest. The sneer on A-B's face froze instantly, and then his entire chest visibly caved in!
He didn't even have time to scream before he was sent flying like a tattered sack, crashing into a motorcycle behind him and sending the several-hundred-kilogram vehicle tumbling over. He landed dead, his eyes wide open in death.
One palm!
With just one palm strike, he instantly killed their leader!
This horrifying scene brought all the assassins' laughter to an abrupt halt. For the first time, shock and fear appeared on their faces.
"Fire! Fire! Kill him!"
Finally, someone reacted and let out a hysterical scream.
“Da da da da da—!”
“Thump, thump, thump, thump—!”
More than twenty automatic weapons simultaneously unleashed deadly fire! The dense barrage of bullets formed a death net capable of tearing any flesh and blood to shreds, relentlessly pouring towards Long Yan's location!
However, what happened next completely shattered their understanding and courage as professional assassins.
Facing that net of deadly bullets, Long Yan neither dodged nor avoided it.
He simply raised his arms slowly, and his simple gray monk's robe fluttered even without wind!
"Om-!"
A faint, almost imperceptible golden aura suddenly appeared around him!
That wasn't a physical shield, but a "protective aura" formed from extremely pure internal energy!
"Jingle bells, jingle bells—!"
Countless bullets, upon contact with the golden gas shield, were as if they had struck the hardest alloy steel plate! The bullet heads were deformed and shattered, scattering sparks, yet they couldn't even penetrate the thin gas shield in the slightest!
All the bullets were easily deflected!
"This...this is impossible!"
"Monster! He's a monster!"
The assassins' expressions shifted from shock to utter terror. They frantically pulled the triggers until their magazines were empty.
When the gunfire stopped and the smoke cleared.
Long Yan remained standing quietly, unharmed. The ground beneath his feet was littered with deformed bullets.
At that moment, his calm gaze was more terrifying than any devil in the eyes of these battle-hardened assassins.
“It’s my turn.”
Long Yan's voice was like the pronouncement of death.
He swayed again, like a tiger, and charged into the flock of sheep.
What followed was no longer a battle, but a one-sided, devastating massacre.
Long Yan didn't use any fancy moves, just the simplest punches, palms, fingers, and elbows.
His punches could easily pierce a person's chest.
His palm could shatter a person's skull.
His fingers could pierce a hard throat.
Wherever he went, the sounds of bones shattering and the screams of those dying echoed everywhere. The killing skills honed on the battlefield seemed laughable and powerless in the face of Long Yan's absolute power.
Less than a minute.
More than twenty ruthless Vietnamese assassins all fell in pools of blood.
Blood flowed like a river in front of the entire Wulong Temple, resembling a hellish scene.
Long Yan stood silently amidst the corpses, his body untouched by a single drop of blood. He looked at his hands, stained with the blood of slaughter, his eyes devoid of any emotion or pity.
Even Buddha has the wrath of Vajra.
He will show no mercy to these villains who seek to bring war and slaughter to this peaceful land.
The killing is for... to stop the killing!
Inside the main hall, Uncle Da and Xiao Zhen, who witnessed everything through the crack in the door, were already pale with fright. Wang Xian'er, on the other hand, collapsed to the ground, her legs giving way, her eyes filled with fear and disbelief.
She never imagined that the gentle and calm Long Yan would have such a terrifying side, like a demon god.
Only Zhang Ling and Master Zhihui had solemn expressions.
“The Vajra glares fiercely, subduing the four demons…” the wise master murmured.
Zhang Ling took a deep breath and said with a complicated expression, "This guy... he's much more decisive and efficient at killing than I, a Taoist priest..."
After dealing with all the assassins, Long Yan turned around, his gaze passing through the doorway and meeting Wang Xian'er's terrified eyes inside the hall.
He knew that this scene would likely become a nightmare for her for the rest of her life.