Chapter 13 — Hiding for Five Years, One Night Becomes Legend

“Van Thu” knocked away a guy's gun barrel, “Truu De Khan Chuy” hit him on the neck.

The other guy was grabbed by the collar from behind by a Sledgehammer and carried like a chicken —

“Bang.” Hit the floor with a thud. The floor is cracked.

Second floor, finished cleaning. 3rd floor. Snake Head on 3rd floor. With 2 bodyguards. The path up the stairs is very narrow, can only fit one person.

“I'm up.” I said.

Bau Ta nodded: "I will cover the rear." I walked up the stairs without a sound. Arrive in front of the door on the top floor — the door is closed. Iron door. Locked from the inside. I put my ear close to the door to "listen". The sound of two people breathing. Very stressful. Squatting on either side of the door — a standard defensive position. There was another sigh — deep inside the room. Very rhythmic. Too rhythmic. Snake Head is not afraid at all. This makes me a bit wary. But let it go. I took a step back. The right palm is glued to the iron door.

“Discovery.”

The internal power of Tai Chi not only affects the human body. Any object will do. The force penetrated the iron door — the door itself was not damaged. But behind the door, two bodyguards were squatting on both sides - They only felt that the iron door was like a giant drum being hit hard, the shock wave passed through the steel and hit their internal organs.

“Whoa —” Two sounds of retching rang out.

I heard the sound of their bodies falling down. Then he kicked the lock hard and the iron door opened. The two bodyguards hugged their chests and curled up on the ground, their mouths bleeding. Organ damage. Not dead, but within the next 10 minutes, don't try to get up. I walked past them, looking deep into the room. Snake Head is sitting behind a red ironwood table. It is the gentle middle-aged man in the photo. At this time, he placed a cup of tea in front of him. He was holding it up and taking a sip. Then put it down. Raise your head and look at me. Smile.

“Tai Chi?”

My steps stopped.

“I thought China no longer had any true Taiji descendants.” He spoke in broken Chinese, "After Hua Guo An died, I thought this kung fu was lost."

My pupils suddenly constricted. Does he know my grandfather's name?

“Mr. —”

“Don't rush.” Snake Head picked up the teacup and took another sip, with a leisurely demeanor as if he was receiving guests in his living room, "Hua Quoc An almost killed my master in the past. My master had to hide and hide in Northern Myanmar for 40 years."

He stood up. Take off your vest and throw it on the chair. The body under the shirt — much more muscular and strong than I imagined.

“Your master?” I stared at him.

“Lang Quyen Street South.” He moved his shoulders, "Do you think I'm just an ordinary human trafficking businessman?"

His arms suddenly bent in a strange way — just like the two claws of a mantis.

“Before doing this job, I was also a martial arts practitioner.”

【Chapter 12】 He strikes. No rambling, no probing. Duong Lang Quyen's speed — extremely fast. Extremely fast. Twice as fast as a Sledgehammer. Compared to the mercenaries in the border areas, it's truly a world of difference. This is someone who truly has martial arts. His arms were like hooks like saws, the density of attacks was extremely high, every move was aimed at dangerous places - throat, eyes, lower body. Tortuous. Sinister. I took 3 steps back. Not suffering to force back — but to “listen” to the path of his power. The characteristics of Duong Lang Quyen are fast, dense, and continuous. Strike like a storm, not giving your opponent breathing space. But there's a catch — it's mostly linear. Coming like a thread. Tai Chi goes in a circle. When the fourth attack came, I stopped backing away. The left hand drew an arc — “Bang” took his right hook.