Big Data Cultivation
Chapter 738 - Chapter 738 738

Chapter 738: 738 Chapter 738: 738 Feng Jun, upon hearing this, finally understood that he had encountered the scum of the earth, full on Siam locals.

Actually, the tour guide had mentioned this situation as well–Bangkok was a melting pot of all sorts, guns weren’t banned, and foreign tourists could easily fall into traps and had to lose money to avoid disaster.

This taxi driver, for instance, set his sights on Feng Jun as soon as he saw him leave the shopping center with two beauties, carrying both large and small bags, instinctively assuming he was wealthy.

It was lucky that Feng Jun had put many items into the Storage Bag; otherwise, there was no telling what the driver would have thought.

That was why he had pulled them into an alley with the intention of robbery. If the other party resisted, they were also prepared with poison needles to frame them–no money? Then be prepared to go to jail.

Feng Jun wasn’t fully aware of this, but when he saw the other party threaten to frame him, he made up his mind.

But before that, he still wanted to ask, “Are you sure no one hired you to deal with me?”

“Oh?” The man with the Glock’s eyes lit up, “Are you actually so rich… that someone would want to deal with you?”

“You really can’t communicate!” Feng Jun raised his arm and punched the man, plastering him against the wall.

Indeed, plastered against the wall–the man was five or six meters from the wall and was blasted away by Feng Jun’s punch.

When he hit the wall, the kinetic energy was still not small enough to shake the wall twice, and thankfully, it didn’t collapse.

Seeing this, the others were dumbfounded; after all, there were more than ten men in the yard.

Bangkok, unlike the tourist and leisure destination of Phuket Island, was a fast-paced city. Just look at those desperate motorcycle riders on the main street, and you can feel that it’s not that lazy.

But in fact, it wasn’t like that–there were also many idlers in Bangkok. If they could catch a fat sheep like Feng Jun, one catch would be enough for at least half a month of indulgence.

The smugglers sent out four drivers, who only made five thousand baht a day, amounting to one hundred and fifty thousand a month. The cash they found on Feng Jun was worth over four hundred thousand baht.

This kind of profiteering trade, supporting a dozen idlers, was perfectly normal.

Throwing a punch, Feng Jun flashed, and with a flurry of punches and kicks, everyone fell to the ground.

Among the ten or so people in the yard, three were armed, but he moved so fast that those who wanted to shoot had to worry about accidental injury.

Feng Jun didn’t start by grabbing a gun or anything, as he wasn’t very skilled with firearms. Although he had used them a few times on the Mobile Phone plane, those had been sniper rifles, which required stability and not much feel for the gun.

Moreover, he was worried that if he grabbed a gun, the others would become wary and might target Sister Hong and Feng Jing instead.

It only took about ten seconds for him to knock everyone down, and then, bending over, he picked up an iron rod.

Beyond guns, these men were armed with cold weapons like machetes and daggers, but he only picked up the iron rod.

He walked over to the taxi driver, pointing with the iron rod in his hand, and said coldly, “Tell me, who sent you?”

Dizzy from the beating, the driver shouted at the top of his lungs, “Shoot”

It was easy for him to say; others indeed wanted to shoot. However, Feng Jun had already taken down their long and short guns and tossed them to the ground; the Glock had fallen beside the man who seemed to be the leader, but that person had already passed out.

“You really aren’t honest,” Feng Jun bared his teeth and smiled, and the iron rod in his hand smashed down. There was a “crack”, and the driver’s left leg was immediately broken, the white bone fragments protruding through the skin.

“Ah~” The driver screamed earth-shatteringly, clutching his broken leg and rolling on the ground in agony.

The commotion was definitely not small, but this place was used to hiding filth and accommodating violence; the neighbors had long been accustomed to various screams here, and no one would bother about it.

Feng Jun estimated as much and chuckled lightly, “Remember now… who sent you?”

Before he finished speaking, there was a “thud,” and his body suddenly shook.

“Feng Jun!” Sister Hong shouted from the car, reaching to grab Feng Jing’s pistol, ready to open the door and get out.

Teacher Mei grabbed her in one motion, “He must be fine; don’t go down and create more chaos.”

Feng Jun turned around and saw the leader holding the Glock, staring at him with a venomous look in his eyes.

Seeing Feng Jun turn around as if nothing had happened, the leader didn’t say another word and pulled the trigger again.

Feng Jun kicked up, and a half-brick on the ground flew up, hitting the leader squarely in the chest,

The leader staggered, spewing a mouthful of blood and passing out once more, the Glock, although firing again, sent the bullet who-knows-where.

“I’m still too nice,” Feng Jun laughed again, surging forward, the iron rod in his hand smashing down ruthlessly.

With a muffled “plop,” the leader’s head burst open like a split watermelon, red and white splattering everywhere.

This was the very reason Feng Jun had chosen the iron rod; knives could kill, but the impact of an iron rod murder was absolutely more shocking.

Those who constantly gambled with their lives on the blade might not be scared by a knife wound, but the lethal power of an iron rod was something most ordinary people, apart from those from war-torn areas, found hard to stomach.

Feng Jun intentionally left those three guns untouched; he wanted to see if the opponents were just bluffing with the guns, or if they truly dared to fire at someone.

If they had fired into the air, he might have considered how to deal with these people, but since they fired at him, he felt completely justified in killing them.

He had smashed the skulls of three men, and when he got to the fourth, the man screamed for his life, using Chinese, “Spare me, spare me… we just wanted to rob some money.”

A Huaxia citizen? Feng Jun raised his eyebrows slightly, “Has really no one hired you?”

“Truly no one,” the guy blubbered incoherently, “We’re just the, the… kidnappers of a fat sheep.”

Feng Jun sighed; he remembered this man was the one who tried to pull him out of the fray, “As a Huaxia citizen, you actually help foreigners to cheat your own people. Don’t you have a conscience?”

“My father isn’t a Huaxia person,” the guy’s mind was obviously a bit hazy, daring even to utter such words, but the next moment he realized his mistake and quickly tried to correct himself, “I was raised by my mother, I’ve never betrayed my compatriots!”

Feng Jun was somewhat inclined to believe that this guy was brought up by his mother; otherwise, being in a foreign land, he wouldn’t be able to speak Chinese so fluently.

But the part about ‘never betraying compatriots’ was just laughable.

So, he swung his rod and knocked the man out, then moved on to the next person, continuing his questioning in English, “Who hired you to go after me?”

Seeing that he was no longer killing people left and right, these scumbags finally calmed down a bit, but many had already been scared to the point of incontinence.

But in fact, Feng Jun had no intention of sparing anyone; having already killed, what did it matter if he killed a few more?

He simply didn’t want to make too much of a mess at the scene. After all, having taken three lives was enough to establish his authority.

In the subsequent questioning, everyone was very cooperative. Perhaps before they had thought their lives were worthless, but after seeing three smashed watermelons, they finally realized that being alive was indeed the best thing.

Unfortunately, most stated that it was merely an accident.

However, the guy who planted the drugs to frame him was clever.

He didn’t speak English well, but there was no problem in making his intentions clear, “Who do you plan to accuse? Our leader could have contacted anyone… maybe it was his doing, we can all testify for you.”

Perhaps worried that Feng Jun might not understand him, he even proceeded to over-explain, “After all, he’s already dead and can’t defend himself.”

“The will to live… is truly strong,” Feng Jun murmured softly as he knocked the man out with his rod.

By the end of the questioning, he had obtained no new leads, so he finally came to the rough conclusion that it was just his bad luck to have encountered a random event.

After that, he killed each person one by one, leaving only two bodies behind–the one who spoke Chinese was among them.

For the rest of the bodies, he pulled out a Storage Talisman for mortals and packed them away, considering the energy points a waste to bring these scumbags to the mobile phone dimension; they simply weren’t worth it.

In what used to be a courtyard filled with more than a dozen people, only two bodies remained, along with signs of a struggle and pools of brains and blood, certainly a headache for the Siam police force.

He didn’t sympathize with these police officers at all; it was their own doing–if they hadn’t failed to act, would Bangkok be this chaotic?

In any case, as long as he took the taxi driver’s body and drove the car away, it would be hard for anyone to trace it back to him in the near future.

Of course, before doing all this, he’d definitely need to scout out “any nearby cameras.”

Just as he expected, there were no cameras around; would those involved in these dealings not create trouble for themselves by leaving evidence of their crimes?

After dealing with the bodies, he wasn’t in a hurry to leave, but continued to search the nearby items, unexpectedly discovering that in a locked hut, there were not only some gold jewelry but also some heroin.

He kicked the door open and gathered about two hundred grams of gold, including a gold bar.

Together with the gold, there was also about a hundred thousand Thai baht, though Feng Jun didn’t take a single baht; this amount of money meant nothing to him, and he disliked any trouble–even though most of the banknotes were old.

The heroin was interesting, stored in a large plastic bag with several smaller packs inside, identical to the packet used to frame him.

The small packets were not really small, at least not the kind used for consumption; each pack contained about ten grams, essentially the amount “distributors would purchase.”

This he could take! Feng Jun collected it. His base in Huaxia Country was growing and he had to prepare for all kinds of scenarios.

As he continued to search the house, suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine came from outside the door.

(Update to here, has anyone noticed the new monthly ticket?)

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