Online: I Can See Health Bars Chapter 1273 - 565: Kill or Spare

The instant Fang Yu uttered the words "Rebel Army," a drastic shift overtook the thief’s face.

Terror visibly seized his entire bearing.

"Officer, officer! I’m innocent! I’m innocent! I’m not with the Rebel Army, I have nothing to do with them!!"

Even aware his efforts were pointless, the thief thrashed wildly in panic, dread rooted deep in his soul.

Could the Rebel Army truly resemble some primal monster, where even naming it ignites such profound fright?

"Cao Fubi! Which Rebel Army members have you contacted, and how did you link up with them? Spill it now before it’s too late. Once my techniques come into play, your confession won’t matter anymore."

Fang Yu, formerly an acting captain in the Foolish Underworld, delivered such lines with effortless command.

The thief stood plainly stunned.

The imposing aura first convinced him this stranger hailed from the Foolish Underworld.

Next, pinpointing his name alongside the Rebel Army suggested long surveillance, irrefutable proof in hand, merely biding time for the capture—which left the thief deeply rattled and on pins and needles.

Right then, utter shock gripped the thief, clueless about the depth of their probe, as though stripped utterly bare, even to his undergarments.

"Officer, officer..."

His knees buckled, words forming on his lips, when frantic footsteps pounded from the entrance.

A spark of hope ignited in the thief; he snapped his gaze doorward, only to behold brothel guards clutching clubs and spears.

"They really did come to cause trouble!"

The brothel keeper’s shrill screech nearly filled the whole establishment, so ear-piercing Fang Yu craved to block his ears.

"Go! Beat them out for me!"

Gui Gong bellowed, sending his dozen-plus guards charging at Fang Yu.

[Qing Maidong: 15/15.]

[Wei Ruran: 18/18.]

[Ge Haiyang: 22/22.]

[...]

Gazing at their health bars, Fang Yu sensed himself morphing into a wicked overlord poised to smash these helpless minions...

He dumped the thief to the floor with a resounding bang, stunning him into half-delirium from the agony, then wheeled to confront the incoming rush, guarding Ding Hui and the two women at his back.

First through the door came Qing Maidong, bearing 15 health points.

Qing Maidong pushed with all his might, clutching a machete caked in crusted blood.

Whether keen-edged or blunt mattered little; merely brandishing it daunted everyday folk.

A blade marred with blood cries of hacked flesh, perhaps slain lives—utterly chilling for martial arts novices.

Yet before Fang Yu...

His right hand lashed out, clamping Qing Maidong’s windpipe, then hoisted him aloft.

Whoosh!

Qing Maidong’s sight whirled; abruptly airborne, in a blink his skull smashed into the ceiling, protruding through the third floor’s planks amid gushing blood, teetering on unconsciousness.

"Ahhhh!"

A third-floor room held an occupant who shrieked in abject horror at the abrupt head, then bolted outward.

Amid Qing Maidong’s humiliation from failing the foe and landing in this ridiculous bind...

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His comrades followed suit in whack-a-mole fashion, skulls bursting from nearby flooring.

Bodies dangled from the second-floor ceiling, heads thrust through the third floor’s wood, jammed immovably, neither ascending nor descending...

Each struck with calibrated might—heads emerged, forms lodged fast.

Once the turmoil and agonized yells faded, his fellows recognized the encircling heads as their own band, seeming to sprout from the earth...

Excruciating pain assailed them, yet it spared their lives.

"I feel... I’m pretty much on par with the guy downstairs."

One fellow, scalp drenched in blood, forced a solemn visage and murmured gravely.

Qing Maidong desperately wanted a free hand to flick wood splinters from his locks before spouting such drivel.

Downstairs uproar lingered, signaling the clash persisted beyond these wretches, though now beyond their view.

"Pain, pain, pain! It hurts a lot, but it’s not fatal, which means this guy’s strength is just average, if Lord Xian were to act, he’d surely settle him..."

Bang!

A fresh head thrust from neighboring boards—the invoked Lord Xian himself, this brothel’s Gui Gong.

"Lord Xian?!"

"How could it be..."

All the ’planted’ heads lodged in the third-floor board let out cries of shock, but Gui Gong feigned unconsciousness and quickly played dead.

He had no choice—the shame was overwhelming.

At first, as he watched his men rush ahead, getting thrashed chaotically with no hope against the foe, yet still managing groans, he judged this opponent’s power as only average.

His own abilities far outstripped those of his underlings, his fighting techniques forged in the brutal gangs of his youth, so taking down this guy should’ve been simple.

But seconds later, he was defeated.

Just like his men, he was flung through the air in a flash, slamming into the third-floor board and turning into another ’head seed.’

From downstairs, his subordinates wedged in the ceiling looked utterly ridiculous, kicking and flailing helplessly without managing to free themselves.

Back then, Gui Gong had dismissed his men as worthless.

Now that he was stuck the same way, he finally grasped how hard it was—suspended in limbo, neither above nor below, impossible to escape without assistance.