Chapter 2: The Truncheon is the True Path

After lifting the mosquito net, the woman inside began to chatter on about a great many things. However, when she later saw that it was not the little thug who had lifted the tent, but rather Mo Huang, who was wearing a strange mask and holding a machete, her pupils contracted and she prepared to scream. But in the next moment, her scream was ruthlessly interrupted. The woman only saw a hand coming with a strong gust of wind, and then she lost consciousness.

Reflecting on this issue, Mo Huang's lips curled into a cold smile. Although this urban-rural fringe area was vibrant with life, all the passersby avoided this fighting club, wearing expressions of disgust and a hint of fear. Clearly, the reputation of the Qing Wolf Gang in this place was still considerable

Although this action is severe, Mo Huang feels justified. The members of the Qing Wolf Gang, not to mention their portrayal in future television dramas, are also notorious in historical records for their numerous misdeeds and malevolence, making their execution entirely justified

This dark corner is where the members of the Tianlang Gang practice their knife skills daily. Just then, a hatchet was conveniently placed on a stack of wood. Mo Huang picked it up effortlessly and advanced silently, step by step, without uttering a word

Mo Huang circled around the club half a turn, found a corner, glanced around, and after seeing that no one was around, jumped up, grasped the surrounding wall with both hands, then flipped his body and nimbly jumped inside.

When a thug urinating outside is knocked down and then hides in the bushes, the handle of the machete in Mo Huang's hand is stained with a trace of blood, and a hint of breathlessness and pallor appears on the face concealed behind the mask

Yet at this moment, as the feeling of limits approached step by step, Mo Huang remained completely unperturbed. On the contrary, he lifted his head with a sense of pleasure and enjoyment, gazing at the gradually rising stars in the sky, a hint of intoxication flashing in his eyes

A group of people is sucked into a space-time rift at the same place, arriving in the primordial world together. The primordial world offers many opportunities, but also numerous crises. If one has to enter with a group of obvious troublemakers with whom they cannot get along, it would be better to go in alone. At least one would not have to worry about the cold guns and schemes from those around them, not to mention the presence of that cunning and ruthless Primordial Wolf who continuously encounters opportunities after entering the primordial world.

Mo Huang extended his hand, gently placing the young thug down on the ground, and then stepped directly inside. In the spacious room, a wooden bed stood out conspicuously, and within the semi-transparent white mosquito net, the flesh-colored figure was particularly eye-catching.

A low, muffled groan escaped his lips, and just like that, he fainted softly. A trickle of blood slowly flowed from the corner of his mouth. By the looks of it, even if he were to wake up, he would only be drooling foolishly, completely unaware of anything.

The Qing Wolf Gang, in this current era, is insignificant and hardly worth mentioning. It is merely a gathering of a few petty thugs who collect protection fees, engage in scams such as staged accidents and honey traps, and occasionally help others in fights or even commit acts of violence. This club was established after the leader of the gang inherited his family's fortune, and its exterior appears dilapidated, with the interior decor being no better.

Upon arrival, Mo Huang remained calm and composed, yet secretly heightened his vigilance, for the destination of this journey, while not exactly a den of dragons and tigers, could hardly be considered a good place

Every step carries an indescribable sense of rhythm, silent yet remarkably swift, as if seeking to merge with the shadows of the night. The breath is prolonged yet powerful, and the muscle groups in the body begin to twitch subtly. The machete in hand swings erratically up and down, left and right, as Mo Huang attempts to adapt to the performance of this weapon at the fastest speed possible, striving to unleash his best physical condition.

Let me make it clear first, I will not do it, not even for money. I am quite familiar with your boss, Hong Ge, so don't mess around.

Silently breaking in, they swiftly knocked down the thugs inside with lightning speed, then pulled down the door and quietly left once again

When landing, Mo Huang bent down and arched his back, muffling the sound of his descent to an almost imperceptible level. Upon landing, he crouched low, moving swiftly like a cat, and concealed himself in a shadowy corner

However, Mo Huang knew that from tomorrow onwards, for the next two hundred years, this gang would become renowned throughout the land, dominating the world with no one able to restrain it. If it were not for their inflated ambitions and the desire to openly seek world hegemony, it would not have provoked the joint efforts of countless forces alongside the nation of Huaxia to eradicate them. The one who created such momentum was the existence of the ancestral-level powerhouse, Duan Tianping, the Canglang of the Primordial Wilderness.

Mo Huang confirmed the time once again; it was only 8:10, and there was still a considerable amount of time until the critical moment at 11:30. However, in consideration of his own plans, it was time to start taking action.

Mo Huang knew that this was by no means a legitimate gathering place for martial arts enthusiasts, but rather the headquarters of a local gang

Until now, Mo Huang has subdued at least twenty small-time thugs, as well as some women who are clearly not virtuous. Although each strike is a critical hit, resulting in instant kills, and the actions are executed with great efficiency, the time since his rebirth is still too short. Even though Mo Huang has slightly enhanced his abilities, he has only transitioned from the frail physique of a shut-in to that of a healthy adult, which is far from comparable to his state before rebirth. After delivering dozens of powerful blows, even within the mindset of the combat techniques from "The Realm of Silence," where he meticulously manages every ounce of stamina with the attitude of a miser, he still cannot prevent his physical strength from gradually approaching its limit.

Upon reaching the door, Mo Huang stood still for a moment, listening intently. From within came a series of rapid and passionate gasps from a man and a woman, making their actions all too clear.

Certainly, the applications of this set of combat techniques are not limited to this; however, given Mo Huang's current physical condition, merely this is already approaching the limit, after all, the time since his rebirth has been too short

Observing the throngs of people, blinded by greed and urgency, Mo Huang weaves through them like a sage, seemingly detached from the world, gazing down with compassion at these pitiful souls. For Mo Huang, although he has been reborn into this era and possesses memories of life in this time, the imprints left by his life three hundred years later are overwhelmingly strong, causing his personality to consistently reflect the traits of humanity from three hundred years hence. Mo Huang is aware of this, yet remains indifferent, as the world of the primordial chaos is about to descend, heralding an unprecedented transformation in human society.

It is truly a long-lost feeling of nostalgia

Therefore, Mo Huang decided to take measures to monopolize the opportunity to enter the primordial world ahead of others

Who the hell is that bastard, can't you see I'm enjoying myself?

After knocking the woman unconscious and confirming that she would not wake up for a day, Mo Huang quietly left as silently as he had arrived. When the space-time rift opened again, Mo Huang hoped that no one else would be awake besides himself.

Knock knock knock

As I journey along, Mo Huang's feelings resemble that of visiting a history museum, observing, examining, and evaluating with the perspective of three hundred years later, yet remaining detached and unable to immerse oneself within it

In the eyes, there flickers an eternal flame

After putting on the mask, Mo Huang stood quietly with closed eyes for several breaths, silently practicing the set of combat techniques known as "The Silent Ridge." When he opened his eyes again, a coexistence of cold rationality and fervent madness emerged, transforming his entire demeanor from that of an ordinary person into that of a formidable warrior

At that time, all beings will transition to an era three hundred years later amidst various bumps and obstacles, while I have merely arrived a step ahead, with nothing unfavorable about it

Moreover, combat skills are not without their consumption

As the door swung open, the little ruffian inside was just about to unleash a torrent of curses at the scoundrel who had disturbed his enjoyment, when he was interrupted by a gust of wind.

Then he took out a mask from his pocket, which was a cartoon version of the Monkey King Sun Wukong. This was purchased by Mo Huang when he passed by a toy store, and its intended use is self-evident

Every corner of the wall, behind the trees, and even in the grass are the landing points of Mo Huang, gradually approaching the destination, a solitary brick house with dim yellow light shining through the window.

A few young thugs with yellow hair were squatting at the entrance of the club, glaring at the passersby with fierce looks, deriving amusement from the anger and fear reflected in the faces of those who dared not speak up or appeared timid, occasionally bursting into loud laughter

This area belongs to a relatively remote corner of the city, showcasing the characteristics of an urban-rural fringe. Tall buildings and brick houses coexist here, blending modernity with the charm of the old, infused with vibrant vitality. A fighting club named Qinglang is situated here.

Although this fighting club is poorly decorated, it occupies a considerable area. While most of it is flat land, there are also several brick houses inside. However, based on the market value, even considering the land prices in a third-tier county, it is worth at least tens of millions of Huaxia currency. The fact that the Qinglang Gang, a relatively small local gang, can possess such a large piece of land reflects the capabilities of Duan Tianping.

Since I have already arrived, will the Wild Cang Wolf still rise to prominence in such a manner

The wooden handle of the knife swept from left to right with tremendous force, cutting through the air with a deep, whistling sound, its trajectory forming an unusually dazzling curve, aimed at the temple of the unfortunate thug.

And this future progenitor-level powerhouse is currently nothing more than a fallen local gang leader. It is only at 11:30 PM, when the space-time rift opens in this club, that he will be drawn into the primordial world, marking the beginning of this unparalleled strongman's rise to prominence

The sound of knocking continued, followed by a rustling of footsteps coming from inside the room, accompanied by bursts of foul language.

In the era of 325 in the primordial wilderness where he resides, although technology is more advanced and increasingly bizarre, the year 2012 still possesses its undeniable charm

Mo Huang strolled through the bustling streets, looking around with a certain enthusiasm

Gazing faintly at the final objective, the largest three-story building, where the renowned figure, the ancient and majestic wolf of the wilderness, who has left an indelible mark in history, resides at this moment.

The architectural layout of the Qing Wolf Gang's base is particularly poor, with brick houses serving as dormitories for the thugs, scattered haphazardly one after another. However, this very arrangement provides Mo Huang with immense convenience

What could be more exhilarating than approaching one's own limits and then rising to unleash potential to surpass those limits? Mo Huang believes there is nothing.

Knock knock knock

The operation of the "Realm of Silence" combat technique left Mo Huang's heart in a state of clarity, akin to a water mirror reflecting the vast world. Externally, his sensitivity heightened, allowing him to perceive even the flight patterns of mosquitoes with clarity. Internally, he achieved a meticulous grasp, enabling him to mobilize every muscle group at will. This was the source of Mo Huang's abundant confidence, for in this state, he could exert up to two hundred percent of his current combat power.

Muscle soreness, a feeling of swelling and numbness, and the mental sting brought on by intense combat techniques gradually impacted Mo Huang's spirit.

Faith is scattered, morals are corrupt, survival is difficult, and there is a variety of filth and disorder, yet there exists a sense of decadent beauty that the future lacks, truly deserving to be called the last dark age before dawn in the annals of history