Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups-Chapter 310 - 217_2

After a bout of resistance and struggle, his knees slammed heavily into the ground full of fallen leaves and dirt, crying with snot and tears.

"Hurry up and dig, stop dawdling!"

The lanky thug wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve as he barked softly at his companion.

The shovel in his hand repeatedly dug hard into the soil with each motion, the dirt flying up and splattering on his pant legs.

Another slightly shorter and stockier thug responded bluntly, "Got it."

The frequency of his shovel swings was much slower than his companion’s, and after a few shovelfuls, he’d grumble:

"Damn fat bastard, making us work this hard, even if he confesses later, we can’t let him off easy..."

Both men’s arms, with their rolled-up sleeves, revealed fierce tattoos, clearly indicating they weren’t good people.

As the dirt continued to fly, a deep pit was gradually forming beneath their feet at a visible pace.

The fat man kneeling on the side shivered uncontrollably at the sight.

He looked up at the bald man standing in front of him, pointing a gun at him, and pleaded tearfully:

"Boss, please have mercy and let me go. I really don’t know anything about the antiques!"

"I have elderly parents and young children, my whole family depends on me. My parents are unwell, bedridden all year, and can’t skip their medicine. My kid just started elementary school. So obedient and sensible, waiting for me to come home every day..."

Speaking emotionally, his snot almost dripped into his mouth, and he didn’t bother to wipe it.

"It’s okay."

The bald man’s eyes were cold as he mercilessly interrupted:

"I still have two brothers watching your house. Once you go down, we’ll send them to reunite with you."

The fat man’s face turned ashen upon hearing this, his body shaking even more violently, like chaff in the wind.

"Boss, whatever it is, take it out on me. I really am just running a legitimate business."

"If you want money, I can give it to you, a million! Not enough? Then two million, still not enough? Then... then... five million..."

The more he spoke, the more his voice trembled, as if both afraid and pained at the thought of having to fork out so much money to save his life.

"Are you bloody kidding?! Who do you think you’re fooling?!"

The lanky thug digging the pit couldn’t help but curse, full of disdain, while his shovel hit the ground heavily.

"Mr. Xu, do you think we didn’t investigate you before acting?"

The bald man snorted coldly, stepping forward, the gun muzzle almost touching the fat man’s forehead.

He lowered his head slightly, looking down at the fat man, his eyes even colder, as if seeing a lamb about to be slaughtered:

"You’re one of the top ghost goods dealers in East Capital, right? I’ve heard you hid all the good stuff in an underground vault at your old home, including those stolen antiques from the West Mountain Ancient Tomb."

"For these things, my brothers and I haven’t celebrated for a year, we’ve been watching you for a week."

"What underground vault?"

The fat man appeared completely bewildered, quickly shaking his head to defend himself:

"There’s a cellar at my old home, but the old house is about to collapse, the cellar’s full of junk, there’s no way I’d dare keep such valuable things there."

"Still playing hardball!"

The bald man shouted angrily, suddenly striking his head with the gun butt.

The fat man’s forehead immediately split open, blood streaming down his face. He yelped in pain and fell to the ground in a mess.

"Really, I’m not lying to you!"

He lay on the ground, clutching his wound, pleading with a sobbing voice:

"I don’t know where you heard this from, maybe that day I had a foolish moment and thought of mixing in the underworld, occasionally bragged to make myself seem capable, and offhandedly mentioned an underground vault. Who would have thought it reached you guys, I’m truly regretting it deeply."

"Guys, please be gracious and spare me this time. I promise I’ll never boast again. If I do, may lightning strike me!"

"Damn it, I’ve got no patience for your bullshit!"

The bald man then went forward and kicked him several more times, the boots landing heavily on his body with a dull thud.

The fat man wailed, hugging his head with both hands, curling up into a ball, his face contorted with pain,

"Shut up, cry out again and I’ll shoot you now."

The bald man’s eyes showed a chilling intent to kill, the gun aiming at the fat man’s forehead, on the verge of an outbreak:

"I’m telling you if you don’t give up the location and keys to the vault today, I’ll bury you alive right here. Then, not dead nor alive, you’ll become a wandering ghost!"

Saying this, he turned his head to look at the two digging the pit, urging: "Hurry up, don’t drag it out."

"Okay, boss, nearly done digging."

Upon hearing this, the two subordinates immediately swung the shovels with even more effort.

Before long, the seemingly tailor-made grave was already taking shape.

The chubby man was kicked into the pit with a heavy foot, rolling over and landing at the bottom.

He looked up at the pit walls, more than a man’s height, watching as yellow mud kept falling down in batches with the swing of a shovel, covering him completely.

It was clear the people opposite him meant to bury him alive here.

His face turned ashen with fear, and he begged frantically:

"No, no! I’ll talk. Isn’t it enough if I talk?"

The bald man heard this, and sneered coldly:

"Some people just won’t cry until they see the coffin. Speak quickly, or it might be too late!"

The chubby man hesitated for a while, trembling lips ready to say something.

Just then, an unusual rustling sound came from the bushes nearby.

It sounded like the soles of shoes snapping dry twigs or stepping through the grass.

Shortly afterward, a startled rabbit dashed out, its frantic footsteps accompanied by several sharp squeaks.

The sudden commotion stunned all three bandits, prompting them to turn their heads.

Before their taut nerves could relax, they saw a strange man stride out from the depths of the forest.

The newcomer was dressed in a neat tracksuit, with a tall, upright figure, sharp eyebrows, and starry eyes, dashingly handsome.

It was Fang Cheng, who had tracked them down.

Facing the three with fierce glances at him, Fang Cheng remained unfazed. He spread his hands and said in a relaxed manner:

"I’m just passing by for some exercise; feel free to continue."

As he spoke, he discreetly assessed the surroundings; his gaze swept over the deep pit behind the robbers, and the chubby man who looked so woeful.

The bald man narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Fang Cheng, lifting his gun slightly, the muzzle unintentionally tilting in his direction as he spoke coldly:

"Passing by for exercise? Hmph, this place is so remote, it’s not exactly somewhere you just pass by easily."

The tall and thin bandit hefted the shovel, tilting his head in agreement:

"Big brother is right. I bet this guy’s probably that Xu’s bodyguard, tracking us down."

The short, stocky bandit nodded in agreement, his voice gruff:

"Anyway, we can’t just let him leave like that."

The bald man held his gun high, a hint of killing intent in his eyes, and he spoke with a solemn tone:

"Since you’ve stumbled upon our business here, why don’t you stay as well."

With these words, he nodded at the tall, thin bandit.

Receiving the signal, the tall and thin bandit’s eyes revealed a fierce look.

With his big brother armed, his temper was flaring, full of fighting spirit.

He immediately gripped the shovel tightly on his shoulder and, without a word, charged menacingly toward Fang Cheng.

The shovel sliced through the air in a cold arc, with its sharp edge aimed straight at Fang Cheng’s forehead, as if intending to shave off half of his head.

Due to his fierce movement, his facial muscles even quivered slightly with the swing of the shovel in both hands.

But Fang Cheng remained calm, dodging sideways like a phantom to evade the violent strike, effortlessly maneuvering to the side.

His figure barely seemed to move, as if he just sidestepped with ease.

He still wore that indifferent expression, as if merely playing a light-hearted game.

The tall and thin bandit missed his strike, brushing past Fang Cheng with the shovel.

He found himself in a rage, veins bulging on his forehead.

He roared in anger, once more swinging the shovel with the sound of wind, fiercely smashing toward Fang Cheng’s backside.

Fang Cheng seemed to have eyes at the back of his head, subtly tilting his head, as his five fingers shot out like steel hooks, instantly grabbing the edge of the shovel.

The tall and thin bandit struggled with a flushed face, arms exerting all their strength to pull back.

Just as he tried to muscle back, Fang Cheng suddenly exerted power, flinging his arm and releasing his tightly gripped fingers.

The tall and thin bandit suddenly flew uncontrollably, like a kite with a broken string, crashing straight into a tree.

Crack.

It wasn’t the tree that broke, but the bandit’s spine.

The sound of bones snapping was clear and captured everyone’s attention, chilling them to the core.

This sudden turn of events left everyone present completely dumbfounded.