Big Data Cultivation

Chapter 177: Compensation (One more to celebrate the Alliance Leader’s good mood)

Seeing the security guard speak up, the short man yelled, “Get lost, kid! You’ve got no say here.”

Then, he provocatively looked at Manager Chang and said, “Manager Chang, this place… it’s not your turf anymore, right?”

Manager Chang’s face darkened as he said, “This is our parking lot.”

According to the rules of the underworld, strictly speaking, a place that provides free parking hardly counts as the property of the party concerned. Objectively speaking, this isn’t a place of consumption, so even if a conflict occurs, it wouldn’t cause too much loss to the owner.

“Your parking lot, huh… that’s a pity,” the short man chuckled.

It seemed he was really enjoying Manager Chang’s gloomy face as he cheekily said, “My friend here isn’t great at driving, just scratched it a bit, wasn’t on purpose!”

Manager Chang’s complexion became even darker as he retorted, “You’ve caused a loss to our guests!”

“Loss? Haha,” the short man laughed uproariously and then fixed his gaze on Feng Jun, “You can ask us for compensation, so who is going to pay… you?”

Feng Jun looked at him with an odd expression, “Did you ever consider that this place is under surveillance?”

“So what if it is?” The short man sneered, “If I say it was an accident, it was an accident. You think you can prove otherwise… believe me, I can make your life hell.”

Feng Jun stepped forward, and Li Xiaobin raised his hand to hold him back, but Manager Chang firmly grasped him and said in an exceptionally stern tone, “Don’t make things worse!”

The lobby manager wasn’t sure what President Feng, who seemed to be connected to the gang world, was planning to do, but there was no doubt that Xiao Bing’s attempt to drag President Feng would be of no help and might just get him into trouble.

Because the scene was under surveillance, Feng Jun was in no hurry to make a move. Instead, he walked to the Jetta and coldly said to the short man, “Accidental or not, you have to compensate for damaging my car.”

“If compensation is needed, then so be it,” the short man said, tossing several paper bills into the air.

Under the xenon lights, the papers fluttered down to the ground, revealing themselves to be five red banknotes.

The short man looked at Feng Jun with interest, “Remember this for the future: keep your eyes open when you’re out, some people you just can’t afford to mess with. I’m in a good mood today… I’ll pay you!”

Truthfully, the money he offered wasn’t even enough to cover the repairs, not even if you downgraded the Phaeton to a Passat.

The Phaeton’s two headlights were shattered, and the hood was crumpled from the impact—there was no helping it. It may be German-made, robust and sturdy, but so was the Jetta—it wasn’t some flimsy Japanese model.

Of course, the short man did this as a deliberate insult.

I’ve already paid you. If you dare complain it’s not enough, that’s just being greedy… believe me, I’ll beat you up.

Feng Jun blinked, not bothering with how much money had been offered. Instead, he nonchalantly waved it off, “Doesn’t matter to me, I’m not lacking that amount. I just want to be clear on one thing, you lot of toads… will stop pestering Xiao Bing from now on, right?”

No sooner had he finished speaking, a shout from Wang Haifeng sounded not far away, “Careful! Don’t you dare!”

It was the Jetta driver flinging open the car door and lunging out aggressively, wrench in hand that was over a foot long, aiming for the back of Feng Jun’s head.

This guy who dared to crash into the Phaeton clearly didn’t lack gall. Hearing the solitary figure confidently dismiss them as not worth worrying about, he was already feeling discontent.

When he heard the further mockery comparing them to toads, his anger boiled over.

So he didn’t hesitate to act—Take this, you show-off!

He knew unleashing his full power could seriously injure the other man, but if it would ingratiate him with Mr. Wu, it would all be worth it.

Unfortunately for him, Feng Jun’s body swayed slightly, and the wrench ended up striking his shoulder.

And this full-powered blow… it felt as if Feng Jun hadn’t even felt it?

Before he could understand what was happening, he saw a fist in front of his face.

Immediately after, his head shook, his vision filled with countless stars, Venus included, and then he lost consciousness.

As Feng Jun started to fight, about seven or eight people suddenly rushed at him.

Wang Haifeng shouted and rushed in as well but fought smart, always hitting and running, never getting bogged down in a fight. After all, it was two against more than twenty; being cautious was necessary.

Unfortunately for him, his “take a knife for a friend” kind of loyalty didn’t get much attention.

The reason was simple: the person he was helping could fight incredibly well, with very straightforward and brutal methods. Facing a group assault, he barely dodged or parried, opting instead for direct and powerful punches and kicks, each blow sending someone flying or to the ground, leaving his attackers in disarray.

Wang Haifeng had only thrown a few punches and kicks before realizing he had no one left to fight. The closest person to him, who had been about to pounce, suddenly bulged his eyes in terror, as if he’d seen a ghost, screamed in horror, and ran for his life.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Coach Wang turned to see the cause of the panic and was equally startled, “Did you knock all these people down?”

There were over a dozen people lying haphazardly on the ground, and even farther away, some had been beaten so badly they’d scrambled under vehicles for cover.

Several who hadn’t been knocked down were already running off, about fifty to sixty meters away.

Feng Jun couldn’t bother to answer his question, his body flashed as he sprinted towards the distance, where a small figure was frantically fleeing for his life.

His heart harbored hatred for the troublemaking shorty, and he was determined not to let him escape, no matter who else he let go.

The short man glanced back in mid-flight and was immediately scared out of his wits, “Please spare my life, big brother…”

Feng Jun chased two steps closer, reached out, and grabbed the back of the other’s collar.

Just then, from about a hundred meters behind, a female voice faintly carried over, anxious, “President Feng, there are cameras here too!”

Feng Jun, holding the other’s collar, hoisted him up and chuckled lightly, “You’re quite lucky, actually… you should really thank Manager Chang… there are cameras here!”

He dragged the man back, threw him on the ground, and then noticed that there were two strangers at the scene.

These two had their hands in their pockets, quietly joking with Zhang Wei while occasionally casting glances at Feng Jun.

In truth, there weren’t less than fifty pairs of eyes sizing up Feng Jun—word of the commotion in the cabaret had spread, and many people had come out to watch. After all, performances were a daily affair, but fights were not.

Coach Wang walked up with a laugh, giving Feng Jun a friendly punch, “Man, you’re getting more formidable in a fight… a real prodigy.”

Feng Jun glanced at him, speaking indifferently, “There’s no prodigy here. I just invest the time others use for chasing girls into my cultivation.”

Wang Haifeng rolled his eyes, “Lu Xun here says, ‘I never made that claim!'”

Their jokes aside, others looked at the pair as if they were monsters, especially Feng Jun—a seemingly superhuman figure, taking on more than a dozen alone and winning decisively.

Feng Jun, under everyone’s watchful gaze, approached Manager Chang and asked softly, with no expression, “No issues with the surveillance, right?”

“No issues,” Manager Chang answered promptly, fully aware of what he needed to hear, “Your car was hit first, then you were ambushed, and after that, you fought back.”

Feng Jun fished out a cigarette from his pocket and with a click, Manager Chang, not knowing when, had produced a disposable lighter and lit it for him.

Feng Jun took a deep drag, tapped her pale hand with his index and middle fingers to show his thanks, causing the lovely lobby manager’s cheeks to blush faintly with the small gesture.

But he paid no mind to these subtleties, exhaling deeply before casually asking, “Has anyone called the cops?”

“Probably,” Manager Chang affirmed, “But if you leave now, you won’t have to worry about what follows.”

“Leave? Why should I?” Feng Jun snorted softly, replying languidly, “My car was hit, and I was attacked.”

At that moment, Zhang Wei came over to whisper that the two men talking with him were police friends he had called.

One from the political department and the other a detective, they had been there for a while but had chosen not to intervene immediately—for obvious reasons. Even policemen prefer to steer clear of influential figures.

They had planned to step in at an opportune moment after the conflict erupted, primarily to secure Zhang Wei’s safety.

It wasn’t that they were timid; before a situation escalated, what could they do?

Reveal their identities and disperse the crowd? That’s a job for the riot police, not them.

Theirs would have been a premature move, likely to provoke and hardly mature—fodder for ridicule, in fact.

Besides, the cabaret was still a place of entertainment, and the appearance of police could lead to unwanted misunderstandings.

However, since they hadn’t revealed themselves earlier, doing so now didn’t seem to hold much significance.

Zhang Wei coming over to relay this wasn’t particularly meaningful; it was just his way of actively managing the situation.

Of course, he needed to maintain his connections and thought it best for Feng Jun to greet his friends.

Such formalities were not beyond Feng Jun’s understanding. Even though he knew their earlier absence wasn’t necessarily supportive, life was complex, and if he was too calculative about such matters… he’d end up friendless.

So he approached with a smile and greeted them, “I really appreciate it, the trouble you’ve taken to come here so late.”

They were internally tired of the routine—being police officers and constantly called upon by friends to clean up messes wasn’t pleasant for anyone.

But today was different; their presence provided the chance to meet a powerful individual.

The one from the political department was more reserved, given his bureaucratic position and lesser involvement in trivial matters. The detective, however, gave a thumbs up and complimented with a smile, “President Feng, what a skillful performance!”

(Extra chapter in celebration of the happy father of our alliance leader—implode for double monthly tickets at the start of the month.)

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