First, disrupt the opponent’s vision.

A white strip of cloth floated before his eyes, and the guard reached out to grab it subconsciously, but immediately sensed something was wrong.

Then, block his blind attack.

As the guard unfurled the cloth and threw a punch, a straight punch struck him on the left cheek, muscle ripples spreading across his face, suppressing any words back into his belly.

Burst both eardrums.

Bi Fang clapped his hands onto the guard’s ears on both sides, intense dizziness instantly deprived the man of his consciousness.

In desperation, the opponent would flail punches blindly, using his elbow to block, then striking the torso.

With his left elbow blocking the arm, Bi Fang’s right hand took advantage of the situation to hit the guard’s liver area, a sharp pain zapping through like electricity.

Dizziness, tinnitus, severe pain.

Wave upon wave of these sensations assaulted him, and the guard had completely lost his reason, forgetting what he should be doing at that moment; of course, he could no longer do anything.

Even someone with the strongest of wills could not endure the pain of a ruptured liver.

The human body is not a perfect system.

Striking the ears with the fist or palm can cause rupture of the tympanic membrane in the middle ear due to external shock and the impact of air pressure, leading to internal bleeding, pain, tinnitus, and loss of hearing.

Moreover, Bi Fang had also powerfully struck the opponent’s liver. When the head is hit, the first sensation is extreme dizziness, not pain, and one still has a certain ability to move.

Whereas, when a liver is ruptured, the person’s mind remains clear, but the intense pain is hard to control, forcing the body to fall to the ground the next second, and the brain, sensing that an important organ has been damaged, compels the body to fall and curl up to protect itself.

The liver itself does not have pain receptors, but it is surrounded by many nerves. When the liver is struck, the sensation of pain will be transmitted to the nervous system throughout the body within seconds.

The heartbeat quickens, breathing becomes rapid, and the blood flow will be uncontrollable.

An adult male being hit in the liver with a velocity of 5 meters per second can be diagnosed with liver damage.

And Bi Fang’s fist had just reached a speed of nearly seven meters per second!

Of course, everyone’s nerve response varies, and the opponent may have the chance to counterattack, delivering the final blow.

So, could this guard become the victor of a desperate counterattack?

Before the guard collapsed, Bi Fang stepped forward, half-twisting his body, his left elbow striking the left side of the jaw, completely dislocating it, then he followed up with another attack to the liver area, finally lifting his right foot and kicking squarely on the opponent’s diaphragm.

The guard lay on the ground, curled up, his face pale as if dehydrated; he had entirely lost the ability to move.

Bi Fang picked up the white cloth, approached the guard, and kicked him in the back of the head, casually draping the white cloth over the guard’s face.

Assessment of effects: Severe tinnitus, fractured jawbone, three cracked ribs, four broken ribs, hemorrhaging of the diaphragm, liver damage, estimated recovery time for normal physiological functions exceeding ten weeks, psychological recovery time…

There is no psychological recovery time—doctors couldn’t possibly be found here. The patient would have to lay in bed for a lifetime, at the very least.

The audience in front of the screen were stunned by Bi Fang’s swift and fierce actions. This was the first time Master Fang had taken the initiative to strike. He had dealt with humans before, but whether it was Poachers or bandits, it was always in counterattack.

Only this time did he launch a proactive strike as he decided to rescue someone, and his ferocity shocked everyone.

[The guard is coming, the guard is down!]

[Wori, that was ferocious]

[Seven steps out, the gun is fast; within seven steps, the fist is fast!]

[Seven steps out, the gun is fast; within seven steps, the gun is swift and accurate!]

“Let’s go!”

Bi Fang waved toward the manhole cover, and Matthew, who had been covertly on the lookout, immediately pushed open the cover and followed suit.

Upon reaching Bi Fang, Matthew looked around apprehensively, noticing a considerable number of people in several other directions. He quickly pulled his head back and asked, “How do we get in?”

There were no entrances in their immediate vicinity, which probably explained the sparse guard presence.

Bi Fang pointed at a window high up on the wall, more than three and a half meters above: “We’ll build a human ladder; you boost me up.”

“Got it!”

With urgency at hand, Matthew didn’t hesitate. He immediately crouched down, and Bi Fang, bracing himself against the wall, sat on his shoulder.

Matthew’s face turned red. Though fit, the past days spent in Yemen had drained his energy significantly below normal levels.

His temples bulging with visible veins, Matthew, leaning against the wall, slowly stood up. Even so, Bi Fang was still a distance away from the window.

The criminals had intentionally designed it this way; the higher the windows, the harder it was for those inside to observe outside, making it difficult to plan an escape route. At the same time, it also made management easier—shutting the door in the case of an emergency would ensure absolute security.

“Just a little longer!”

“I can hold on!”

Teetering on Matthew’s shoulders, Bi Fang reached out to grab the ledge and, with a practiced pull-up, leaned over the edge of the window. With one more push, he hoisted himself up.

Matthew, his shoulders suddenly unburdened, almost collapsed, gasping for breath as he sat on the ground.

“You keep watch outside. If you see someone coming, throw a stone at the window. If there’s danger, don’t try to fight; just run. Got it?”

Matthew made an OK sign and then crouched down into the bushes nearby, all the while clutching a broken stone tightly in his hand.

The untrimmed bushes easily concealed a grown person’s figure. Plus, it was night; even if someone stood right next to Matthew, they probably wouldn’t notice him.

Assured that he wouldn’t be easily detected, Bi Fang turned his attention to the window before him.

He squinted into the darkness, unable to discern anything within.

Shouts from inside masked other sounds, but he was too close, and the distinctive noise of breaking glass could easily draw attention.

He was less than ten meters away from the other guards!

Such a high window wasn’t designed to be opened in the first place; it simply couldn’t be opened.

Bi Fang examined the window and said, “It’s a very old window, still fixed with iron nails. These types of windows aren’t hard to dismantle; we just need to pry off the nails to open it.”

He then took out a dagger and began to pry along the seam.

The old window used several thin iron nails to fix the glass in place; removing the nails would allow the glass to be taken out intact.

The wood, neglected over the years, had become very soft. The dagger slid in almost effortlessly, easily prying out the nails. Soon, Bi Fang had removed the first pane of glass.

A strong, foul smell immediately made him furrow his brow.

Perhaps his sense of smell had adapted to the odors of the sewer, for it wasn’t until he opened the window that Bi Fang smelled the damp, musty scent.

“My goodness, what a strange smell—it’s like moldy mushrooms, damp, cold, and accompanied by a stench of decay. The situation inside might be worse than we anticipated.”

Just the smell alone gave an idea of the torment the people inside were enduring.

“I can’t get through a single pane; we’ll have to pry off some more.”

However, just after Bi Fang had successfully removed the second pane of glass, a stone struck him in the back.

Someone was coming!

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