Chapter 120 Street Fight
Lin Chen's footsteps came to a sudden halt.
The momentum of his forward dash stopped as if he had been nailed to the spot.
He slowly turned around,
leaning firmly against the mottled wall,
blocking half the light in the alley.
Dust and debris peeling from the wall fell with the evening breeze,
landing on his shoulders,
but he didn't even lift a hand to brush it off.
When that smirk appeared on the corner of his mouth,
it was as cold as an icicle in the middle of winter, without a hint of warmth.
His gaze was even more striking,
staring at the eleven ashen-faced little thugs before him,
without a trace of fear in his eyes.
Instead, it was as if he were looking at a group of buffoons,
mixed with a bit of playful mockery, as if he couldn't be bothered with them.
“Run?”
Lin Chen let out a scoff.
Not even a speck of spittle flew as he spoke,
his tone lazy and casual.
“I just didn't want to dirty the ground in front of someone's shop.”
“It's bad luck.”
He took half a step forward,
his heel making a dull thud on the uneven concrete ground.
The light bulb of the roadside convenience store flickered,
buzzing and crackling as it cast light upon him,
making his clean T-shirt look particularly conspicuous.
The eleven men instantly surrounded him,
the steel pipes and belts in their hands creaking as they gripped them tight.
The smell of rust mixed with the stench of sweat permeated the narrow alley.
The lead man with a scarred face spat as he spoke:
“Kid, you're pretty arrogant!”
“Today, I'll let you know who calls the shots on Pozi Street!”
Lin Chen didn't respond.
He simply raised an eyebrow,
looking like he was watching a group of ignorant children.
Internally, however, he chuckled. This display
was far inferior to the training dummies he used when practicing combat.
He had recently mastered the Basic Combat Skill granted by the system;
dealing with this rabble was as easy as pie,
not even worth a warm-up.
As soon as the Scar-faced Man waved his hand,
the group lunged forward with a howl.
The sound of steel pipes whistling through the air
kicked up the dust in the alley.
Anyone else would have cowered long ago,
but Lin Chen merely shifted his body,
his footwork incredibly swift, as if the Basic Combat Skill was etched into his very bones.
His mind was crystal clear;
he didn't need to consciously think about every movement,
as his body reacted a step ahead.
The man on the left swung his steel pipe too forcefully,
losing his balance. All Lin Chen had to do was sidestep,
and the man would stumble on his own.
He sidestepped against the base of the wall to dodge the first swing.
A deep scratch instantly appeared on the wall,
and bits of brick crumbled down.
Lin Chen's peripheral vision caught the scratch,
but he felt no ripple of emotion.
He only thought about not damaging the nearby shops
to avoid causing trouble for others;
after all, that was the reason he had moved away in the first place.
With a block on the left, the force of the belt swinging toward him was neutralized.
The man's hand went limp, and the belt nearly whipped his own face.
“Ah, it hurts, it hurts!”
The corners of Lin Chen's mouth curled slightly.
He thought to himself, with such little strength, he dared to act tough with a belt;
he must never have suffered a setback before.
With a sidestep to the right,
the person lunging forward tripped on the loose gravel,
falling flat on his face.
“Ouch!”
His palm scraped against the rough concrete, leaving a bloody mark.
The onlookers were dazed:
“Oh!...”
“Ah!”
Many people let out sounds of surprise,
feeling as if they were providing sound effects for a martial arts movie.
Lin Chen didn't look much.
His full attention was on the people lunging at him.
He deliberately held back his strength.
After all, he just wanted to drive these people away,
not truly injure them
to avoid getting into unnecessary trouble.
Self-defense and intentional injury were two different things.
He didn't strike ruthlessly, yet every touch was perfectly timed.
Either he'd grab an opponent's wrist and twist it behind their back,
“Aiya! It hurts, it hurts...”
making them howl in pain;
or he'd give a gentle trip, causing
a burly man to slam hard onto the ground.
He even knocked down two of his accomplices behind him.
“Ouch...”
“Eek, ouch...”
Seeing them collide and tumble over each other,
Lin Chen even found it a bit comical.
These people had no coordination at all, just charging blindly;
they were even weaker than he had anticipated.
Eleven people circled him,
but they couldn't even get close.
Instead, they bumped into each other and stumbled,
knocking over torn cardboard boxes and waste plastic bottles along the alley, which rolled everywhere.
A cacophony of clattering sounds filled the air.
Throughout the whole ordeal, Lin Chen barely lost his breath, not even a bead of sweat on his forehead,
and his gaze remained indifferent.
He could clearly anticipate everyone's movements,
calculating in his mind to finish this quickly
to prevent a crowd from gathering and escalating the situation.
His peripheral vision swept over a stray cat scurrying in the corner, startled,
and then at the convenience store owner, whose eyes were wide with shock as he clutched his phone, not daring to make a sound.
He knew Chu Feifei had called the police.
That was fine; it would be easier to handle the aftermath once the police arrived.
In just about ten minutes,
the alley was littered with people lying all over the place.
Cries and moans rose and fell,
mixing with the faint sound of gravel rolling on the ground.
Lin Chen brushed off non-existent dust from his sleeves.
He looked down at himself: his T-shirt was smooth,
his pants weren't torn, and there wasn't even a scratch.
Aside from a bit of dust on the hem of his shirt, he looked no different from when he first entered the alley.
He felt a sense of relief; fortunately,
he hadn't gotten dirty or caused a mess for the shops.
This combat skill was truly useful;
it seemed the time spent absorbing it hadn't been in vain.
Just then, the sirens from the Pozi Street Police Station finally approached from a distance.
The piercing sound cut through the chaos in the alley,
startling several sparrows resting on the wall into flight.
The police car stopped at the alley entrance.
Two Police Officers got out and pushed through the crowd,
their brows furrowing instantly.
Looking at the scene, only Lin Chen stood upright,
hands in his pockets, perfectly clean.
“Who called the police?”
“Who started the fight?”
An older Police Officer held a notebook, his tone serious.
Another young and beautiful female Officer called out on her radio:
“North side of Night Snack Street, there's a group fight. We need backup!”
The Yellow-haired Man scrambled up from the ground,
pointing at Lin Chen while grimacing in pain:
“Officer!”
“It was him!”
“He beat us like this!”
“There were eleven of us!”
Several others nearby chimed in,
pointing at their injuries with miserable faces.
Lin Chen finally looked up, his tone still calm,
even carrying a hint of helplessness:
“Officer, I didn't lay a hand on them.”
“They were the ones who surrounded me to attack,”
“I just dodged a bit and bumped into them.”
He held out his hands, showing his clean palms:
“Look, I don't even have a scratch on my hands.”
He was certain that the surveillance cameras must have captured everything clearly.
It was self-defense the whole time; he had nothing to fear.
“Besides, all these bystanders saw it.”
Lin Chen pointed to the onlookers.
“Furthermore, isn't there a camera up there? It should have recorded it.”
The middle-aged Police Officer sized him up,
then looked at the people lying on the ground.
The injuries on their faces were plain to see.
Comparing that to Lin Chen’s unblemished appearance,
he had a general idea of what happened.
“You'll have to come back to the station with me to make a statement.”
He then pointed to the eleven on the ground,
“All of you, crouch down and don't move,”
“Wait for my colleagues to arrive with a vehicle to take you back to the station.”
The Yellow-haired Man pointed at Lin Chen and shouted.
“Why doesn't he have to crouch?!”