To be honest, Wang An was feeling quite lost at the time.
Because even after fabricating this identity, there was a chance—perhaps, possibly, probably, an eighty percent chance—that it would still be completely useless!
Therefore, ever since Wang An discovered he was a militia member, he had never once mentioned it.
After enduring the pain and gritting his teeth to stand up, Wang An held a Type 54 pistol in his left hand and a horse whip in his right. He then began to shuffle, limping, toward the slightly older youth.
Correct, it was indeed "shuffling" rather than "walking," because at this moment, Wang An didn't dare take actual steps. His leg hurt too much; every movement brought pain, so he could only shuffle.
Seeing Wang An shuffle toward him was like watching the Grim Reaper approach, which caused the older youth's entire face to turn green.
Furthermore, sweat was visibly pouring down the youth's face, and he swallowed hard from time to time.
It was clear that the boy was truly terrified.
However, it was also evident that the boy's eyes were locked deadly on the muzzle of the Type 54; as for the limping Wang An, he had been completely ignored.
It had to be said that under the "Great Equalizer," anyone would be afraid.
And anyone who claimed they weren't was likely someone who had never had a loaded gun pointed at them.
When Wang An shuffled up to the boy, he was also sweating—his entire head and face were drenched.
Though the distance between them was short, even that short distance left Wang An's body twitching from the pain.
Once he reached the person, Wang An steadied his nerves and swung the horse whip.
Fortunately, his arm had been clutching the man's thigh, preventing him from being beaten with the hoe handle; otherwise, Wang An might not have been able to swing the whip at all.
As soon as Wang An raised his hand, the boy immediately shouted, "Big brother, I—"
But before he could finish, the tip of the whip arrived. Although the whip didn't make a cracking sound, the boy's scream was louder than any crack.
With one lash, the boy let out a loud "Ah!" and collapsed to the ground, clutching his eyes.
Wang An lashed him two more times before abandoning the idea of continuing.
Mainly, since the opponent was wearing a padded cotton jacket, the damage from the whip was nearly zero, and it was a waste of energy.
Realizing this, Wang An casually tossed the horse whip to the ground, then struggled to squat down again to pick up the hoe handle the boy had dropped.
Immediately after, Wang An swung the hoe handle with one hand, smashing it down toward the boy he had just floored with the whip.
Specifically, Wang An aimed for the boy's head and the hand covering his face.
After three strikes with the hoe handle, the boy passed out, his face covered in blood.
As the hot blood surged and adrenaline spiked, Wang An suddenly felt that the pain in his body was no longer as intense.
Of course, whether it hurt or not didn't stop Wang An from beating people.
After knocking the boy unconscious, Wang An held the Type 54 in his left hand and dragged the hoe handle with his right as he walked toward the second person.
The second person seemed to have accepted his fate; he squatted there with his arms crossed, sticking his head out and already posing himself to be beaten.
This person performed well and saved Wang An a lot of trouble, so it only took two blows to knock him unconscious.
No matter the time or place, there is never a shortage of brave souls.
Because after Wang An successfully knocked out the first three and walked toward the fourth, the fourth person actually swung his hoe handle and charged at Wang An.
It had to be said that adrenaline is a wonderful thing; although Wang An still hurt everywhere, it was now bearable.
Moreover, this sensation of pain stimulated Wang An's nerves, making him even more furious.
Although Wang An knew that this adrenaline-fueled state could only last for a short time, he believed that the resisting fellow before him would end up miserable, and he could easily handle the last remaining one.
Noticing the man's movement, Wang An quickly clamped the Type 54 in his mouth, gripped the hoe handle tightly with both hands, and swung it toward the other man's weapon.
With a loud "Bang!", the two hoe handles collided.
Although Wang An was stronger due to age, height, and weight, he still felt his hands go numb from the vibration.
Because the opponent lacked Wang An's strength, his reaction was even worse; looking at his posture, he seemed unable to hold onto the hoe handle.
Immediately after, Wang An's "madness" kicked in, and he rained down blow after blow with the hoe handle.
After blocking twice, the youth finally lost his grip. With a "Clang!", the hoe handle fell to the ground.
With the obstacle gone, Wang An swung with even more vigor. After a few more hits, the youth was brutally beaten down.
Once he hit the ground, the youth actually began to beg for mercy, while also shouting for help.
The boy first screamed
"Big brother, I was wrong! If you spare me this once, I'll definitely study hard and never hang around with bad crowds again!"
To be honest, these words almost made Wang An laugh.
Mainly, what does it have to do with me whether you study hard or not? I'm not your father; I don't care if you study or not.
And as for "hanging around with bad crowds," where was this thought when you were swinging a hoe handle at me?
Now that you realize you're getting beaten, you decide you won't hang around with bad crowds anymore? Why didn't you think of that earlier?
Hang around whoever the hell you want; even if you stop in the future, you still have to finish taking this beating first.
So, hearing the shouts, Wang An ignored him. The hoe handle continued to fall, and not only that, but the force increased.
The reason the force increased rather than decreased was that Wang An had been exactly this kind of person during his school days.
When facing street thugs, if you could win, you fought; if you couldn't, you ran; if you couldn't run, you begged for mercy. This was simply the universal characteristic of student delinquents.
Because many street thugs, when facing students, might bully them or steal some money, but when it came to actually fighting, they usually held back quite a bit.
However, Wang An was certain that regardless of whether he let him go today, the boy would continue to be a delinquent without a moment's delay.
Because "a dog cannot stop eating shit."
As Wang An's hoe handle smashed down with increased force, the boy wailed and screamed
"My mom is the deputy town mayor! When my mom finds out you beat me, you're finished!"
After shouting this, the boy actually started crying—the loud, wailing kind!
This caused Wang An's next swing of the hoe handle to stop mid-air.
The crying didn't affect Wang An's desire to beat him.
But hearing that sentence, specifically the word "Mom," truly made Wang An freeze for a moment.
Because as far as Wang An knew, in the Northeast during this era, people in most regions called their fathers "Die," while some called them "Da."
However, when referring to their mothers, it seemed everyone used "Niang."
And as for people who called their mother "Ma," this fellow was currently the second one!
(End of Chapter)