Scorpion turned to see a tall figure approaching leisurely.
Walking straight through, as if the dozens of steel pipes were mere trifles, he stood firm in the center of the clearing, locking eyes with Scorpion.
"Where did this brash kid come from, daring to make trouble here?"
"This place has always been under Scorpion's watch. You say it's your turf? You must be tired of living!"
"Boss, just give the word, and I'll turn him into a pig's head right now!"
The gangsters waved their steel pipes, shouting loudly.
Scorpion waved them off, the scorpion tattoo on his face trembling.
Years of living on the edge had imbued him with an aura of lethality, prompting most to steer clear.
Yet, this young man before him remained calm, even daring to meet his gaze!
Was he a greenhorn, fearless out
