However, there's no freedom for mercenaries to maintain order here at night; their duties are mostly during the day. When night falls, people huddle in their homes to pass the long night.

The local snow is incredibly thick. Observing the gray-white sky and feeling the heavy snow hit his cheeks, his figure gradually vanishes into the distance, the crunching sounds of his steps on the snowy ground fading into the endless night...

After a not too long nor too short fifteen minutes, Big Guy finally arrives at the slum that could be described excessively deplorable. Gazing at the trash strewn everywhere, the haphazardly arranged houses, and the faint glimmer of fire in the distance, he marches straight into an underground bar known for gathering intelligence without any pause.

The bar isn't particularly large. With the help of the dim yellow light, Big Guy can vaguely make out that it's around 300 square meters in size. It's packed with an assortment of people, appearing somewhat crowded.

What adds to the repugnance is that the people here seem unfriendly towards him. The men, each more menacing than the last, some bare-chested with a variety of tattoos etched into their skin. Others are bald or covered in scars, dressed in less than respectable attire.

But Big Guy doesn't care about any of this. His focus is solely on the women, watching the prostitutes sway their hips as they walk past him, some even casting flirtatious glances his way. Big Guy feels a surge of excitement, but knowing he has a mission to complete, he decides not to engage. Still, his eyes rove around sneakily, seemingly unaffected by the glaring, hostile expressions of the surrounding men, or perhaps, our foolish Big Guy has yet to realize his current predicament.

"Hey, buddy, got a light?" Just then, a gaudily dressed young man approaches from the distance, seemingly heading straight for Big Guy. It's clear to any observant person that on his way over, the young man passes several others with cigarettes in their mouths, yet he doesn't ask them for a light, choosing instead to focus on Big Guy.

Who is Big Guy? He's a junior army officer who has seen plenty of action in the military. If you were to ask him what he's learned in the army, it would be observing situations. As a federal soldier, Big Guy has seen it all. He immediately bows his head with an apologetic smile and hands over a metal lighter, "Here you go."

However, the man has no intention of taking the lighter, instead sizing up Big Guy with the cigarette in his mouth as if testing his limits, scrutinizing him for a moment before gesturing with a finger to light it for him.

The surrounding crowd watches with schadenfreude.

Yet Big Guy seems blissfully unaware of the other's intent, looking around with his innocuous gaze, as if uncertain of what's happening, before pointing at his own nose as if to ask, "Me? Are you asking me to light it for you?"

The man gives him a smirk and nods without a word.

It's only then that Zhang Xiaobo suddenly realizes that the man wants him to light his cigarette. He looks around, and, upon noticing the curious, playful gaze of the women, he hesitates, feeling somewhat embarrassed to perform such a subservient act—Yes, it's embarrassing to light someone's cigarette on command, like losing face. Doesn't he value his dignity? Big Guy definitely does. He reluctantly flicks the lighter and steps forward.

Sss...

The man's beard catches fire. He had his eyes half-closed, poised to enjoy his smoke, thinking ever since this timid Big Guy entered, that a fat sheep has arrived today. To confirm his suspicion, he had deliberately approached with the pretense of needing a cigarette lit to strike up a conversation and learn more.

These seasoned veterans of the underground world are experts at reading people and situations, with every glance, evasion, or over-calm response unable to escape their sharp perception.

With just a few words and a cooperative movement from Big Guy, they could tell that Big Guy is merely a coward—Intimidation is a daily occurrence for them, the very basics, and given their naturally intimidating appearance, it's no surprise Big Guy is panicky. However, any normal person wouldn't fare much better than him. From the moment Big Guy set foot in the bar, many have already realized that he is a plain, even somewhat naïve, chubby man. For someone like him to venture alone into an underground bar, they wonder if he's out of his mind.

To everyone's surprise, this cowardly and simple-minded fatso, Zhang Xiaobo, actually ended up burning the beard of the local thug, Carl, while lighting a cigarette—a scenario no one around had anticipated. Normally, you'd expect him to be scared stiff, carefully lighting his cigarette with extreme caution to avoid any mishaps, right?

Therefore, the first thought that crossed everyone's minds was that this fatso must have been scared out of his wits, trembling so hard he couldn't hold the lighter steady, which led to the singeing of the beard. What's sadder is that due to his panic and preoccupied mind, even after burning the beard, he stood there like an idiot, wondering what hardship he was going to face next, and completely neglected the fact that he had just burned Carl's beard.

Carl is a handsome middle-aged man with a bandana and a styled beard on each side. At least on the surface, he seems modest, gentle, elegant, and cultured. Who could have imagined that the next second, a piercing scream would come out of nowhere, even Carl himself found it hard to believe what had just burned him. It was a scorching sensation.

Carl never envisaged that this damned fatty would burn him. It was only after a second that he realized it was not someone else but him whose beard was scorched. For a moment, Carl couldn't believe it and was even filled with regret, frustration, and anger as he touched his now half-bare beard, "Damn it, you've burnt my beard."

As soon as Carl's words fell, a burst of laughter, mixed with whistles, erupted from around, "Hey, fatso, you're screwed now."

"What are you waiting for? Run, man. I bet Carl is going to kill you."

"God, Fatty's in big trouble."

Suddenly the air was thick with all sorts of murmuring voices, one after the other...

Yes, Carl is extremely angry at this moment, angrier than anyone else and wanted nothing more than to kill this fatso. But Carl knew that it wasn't just him in the bar; there were freelance mercenaries around—meaning, normally, if he bullied a passerby, the mercenaries would turn a blind eye, but murder was different. After all, it was a human life at stake, and there were serious consequences. The mercenaries might let him cause trouble, but they wouldn't allow him to take it too far.

So Carl didn't choose to act on the spot, instead, he decided to find time to secretly deal with him. But that didn't mean he would let the present lesson pass, in almost a growl, he squeezed through his teeth while grabbing the corner of the fatso's clothes, "You damn thing, how will you compensate me?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Zhang Xiaobo clearly was terrified, shaking his head vigorously like a bobblehead.

"Idiot, I'm talking about compensation, not whether you did it on purpose."

"No! The person who burned you wasn't me."

In the instant when Zhang Xiaobo uttered those words, the crowd was initially stunned, then burst into incredulous laughter... This fat fool should never have tried to evade responsibility. Had he sincerely apologized and offered all his wealth as compensation, he might have left with his body intact, and if Carl was in a good mood, he might even have spared his life.

But, he made a huge mistake—evasion. This person, whether genuinely foolish or pretending, claimed that the person who burned Carl's beard wasn't him, which undoubtedly signed his own death warrant.

Carl just stood there in disbelief, thinking he'd heard wrong. He couldn't believe that this buffoon would dare to feign ignorance with so many witnesses around. For a moment, Carl actually burst into an angry laugh, "Say that again."

"Are you stupid or what? Can't you understand? I already told you, I'm not the one who burned your beard," Zhang Xiaobo seemed not to grasp the gravity of the situation, his small eyes darting around, truly thinking Carl needed the explanation repeated.

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