Chapter Eleven: Is This Fool Scarface?

“Blondie? What the hell is your damn mother doing here? What’s going on?” Scar frowned, his face darkening with displeasure as he looked at Huang Dapao.

But he didn’t make a move immediately. Instead, he stared intently at Huang Dapao, and with his hand behind his back, he gave a subtle signal to his men.

The three underlings understood instantly. They quietly closed in from the front, surrounding Huang Dapao.

In that cramped space, the atmosphere instantly grew tense.

Yet Huang Dapao lounged casually on the sofa, legs crossed, wearing a shiny V-neck short-sleeve shirt. His yellow hair stuck out in all directions, making him look like a low-level street punk.

He sniffed and chuckled, “Heh heh! Brother Scar! You’ve got a bad memory, haven’t you? The intel on Wanli neighborhood? That was me. So what’s strange about me showing up here?”

“Hmph! I don’t have time to waste on you. What the hell do you want? The person I’m after—is he hidden by you? Hand him over right now!”

Scar barked sharply.

Huang Dapao shrugged. “Hey, hey, hey! Brother Scar, don’t talk nonsense. Which eye of yours saw me take your guy away?”

“I’m a man of one thing only here. I heard you took a million yuan from that dumb rich second generation on this case! I at least gave you the info; I deserve a cut, don’t I?”

Scar suddenly burst into laughter.

Looking at Huang Dapao with contempt, he sneered, “You want money from me? You? You still think you’re Young Master Huang? You’re just a bastard son raised by a whore, and you dare put on airs in front of me?”

Huang Dapao’s cheerful expression darkened instantly at those words.

“Shut up!” Huang Dapao’s eyes turned red as he shouted at Scar.

“Son of a bitch! Blondie, who the hell do you think you’re yelling at? Hmph! If it weren’t for Hao’s sake, I’d have killed you long ago. You dare ask me for money? You dare defy me?”

“My patience is limited. Hand over the guy now! And don’t even think of getting a cent.”

“If you don’t comply, hmm! Today, you won’t leave here with even one hand,” Scar boasted arrogantly, pointing at Huang Dapao, oblivious to the murderous glint in his eyes.

“Ding ding ding!”

At that moment, Huang Dapao’s phone rang.

After three rings, it ended automatically.

Huang Dapao laughed, a bright, happy laugh.

Scar frowned and shouted, “Damn it! Blondie, what are you laughing at? Pretending I don’t exist? You’re asking for death!”

Enraged, Scar drew his butterfly knife from his pocket and lunged at Huang Dapao.

—

Huang Dapao wasn’t stupid. As soon as Scar moved, he flipped backward, hiding behind the sofa and evading the blade. Then he dashed into the bedroom behind and locked the door.

Scar was furious and shouted to his men, “Damn it! Go break down the door! That damn Blondie dares to mess with me — I’ll teach him a lesson today!”

But before he finished speaking—

*Bang!*

A muffled sound came from behind Scar.

He turned to see four or five burly men wielding machetes pouring through the door. His three men were held at knifepoint.

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