56 A.T. Kearney Street, located in the heart of Chinatown, where three streets meet.

In the old days, it was very lively, and the shops would set up their stalls outside their doors to attract customers.

There were many traders and Chinese people coming and going, and even horse-drawn carriages were not uncommon.

But today it's unusually quiet.

The doors of the shops were closed and sealed; Pedestrians who passed by also chose to take a detour when they saw this.

Anyone who has lived in Chinatown all year round knows that there is about to be a "fight" here.

The so-called "Tang Dou" refers to the fight between Chinese gangs, or the merger of fires.

The two sides set a time and place to fight in groups, who instigates who is the dog, who runs first and who loses, and the loser eats the dust and gives up the territory.

This kind of fighting happens in Chinatown almost every month, so pedestrians and shops have long been experienced.

The police won't take care of it, and they have to collect the corpses themselves.

At about eight or nine o'clock in the morning, a group of Chinese wearing black horse coats began to appear at one end of the street.

With axes in their hands and red strips of cloth wrapped around their arms, they gathered in twos and threes.

People dressed in the same attire as them kept coming from all directions to join the crowd.

These are the people of impartiality, and they are gathering.

The bald Zong Wenkai appeared in the crowd early.

The others only had one axe, pinned to their waists, but he had two, crossed and pinned behind the waistband of his trousers.

Some people use fighting as a way to compete for power and discourse, but Zong Wenkai is more than that.

He likes to cut people.

Several white-skinned thugs appeared around the impartial crowd.

They chewed tobacco in their mouths and carried a bag of revolvers and bullets.

One of the thugs pulled out a handful and held it in his hand.

Judging from the condition, this mottled revolver has not been passed through many hands, and it is not very well maintained.

"Do you want a gun?" The mixes peddled their guns to the Chinese in less proficient Chinese.

"How much?" Someone came up.

"Thirty dollars." The thug said with a hippie smile.

"Why don't you go and grab it?" Someone pouted.

The Chinese who came forward to watch dispersed in a hurry.

The gangsters were a little unwilling and continued to weave through the crowd.

However, they wandered around and couldn't find a seller willing to buy a second-hand revolver from them for thirty dollars, so they gradually dispersed.

The bald head glanced at the thugs, and then patted the axe on the back of his waist:

"How can I use my axe to do these things."

He is very the mouth, but he is scolding his mother in his heart.

If I had the ability to get a large number of guns, would there still be a reason for the existence of those two gangs in Chinatown?

The younger brothers of Binggongtang also laughed along.

But their laughter soon came to an abrupt end.

Because Yan Qingshan appeared on the other side of the street with Rui Duantang's people.

The men, all dressed in white clothes and wearing yellow turbans around their heads, and weapons similar to theirs in their hands, walked in their direction with a menacing attitude.

The old man is old and strong, and he takes the lead in the first place.

In his hand, he was carrying a double-barreled shotgun that he had gotten out of nowhere, and the bullets were already loaded.

The bald complexion gradually became hideous.

He drew the two axes from behind his waist, shook them in his hands, and then held them in his hands:

"Brothers, copy guys, get ready for war!"

With that, he walked quickly towards the opposite side with the people from the court.

The footsteps on both sides became faster and faster, and when they were about fifty meters apart, they turned into rushes.

The bald head had already seen the gun in Yan Qingshan's hand.

But he didn't have the slightest intention of retreating, but took two axes and galloped forward.

As soon as he ran, he shouted loudly: "Invulnerable!" Invulnerable! ”

Yan Qingshan saw the bald head rushing over, and pulled the trigger when he raised the shotgun.

But I don't know if it's because of the gun or the person, but the gun went off, but the bald head didn't fall.

Didn't fight.

The bald head could already hear the sound of shrapnel whizzing over his head.

He subconsciously shrunk his neck, but because his neck was too short and thick, people in front and behind couldn't see it.

After realizing that he had not been shot, the bald head became even more excited and accelerated to charge.

And the little brothers behind him also shouted one after another:

"Invulnerable! Invulnerable! ”

Yan Qingshan saw that the other party had taken the lead in momentum, and he was a little anxious.

He threw away the shotgun in his hand, took the Daguan knife carried by the two younger brothers beside him, and rushed behind him.

Thirty meters,

Twenty meters,

10 meters,

With a roar, the crowd on both sides slammed into each other.

The two gangs fought together, and the sounds of fighting and scolding mingled and floated over the streets.

Yan Qingyun danced with a Daguan knife like a tiger, and the four or five people around him couldn't get close.

After slashing down a member of the Binggongtang gang who wanted to get closer, he began to look around for the bald figure.

From the beginning just now, after the bald head took a photo with him, he didn't know where to run:

"Zong Wenkai! You eggless coward! Come and walk with your grandpa for a few rounds! ”

The old man shouted angrily with a knife in both hands.

The bald head held two axes in his hand, slashing people on the other side.

Hearing Yan Qingyun's scolding, he turned a deaf ear and continued to cut all the way back.

He's pretty good, but he's not stupid.

Yan Qingyun was holding a long handle, and he was holding two axes with short handles, and he suffered a loss when he fought.

This old man's knife skills are good, but after all, he is old.

As long as his own people consume his physical strength, it is not too late to go back and give him two axes.

For this "Tang Dou", all the main forces that could be dispatched were dispatched on both sides.

Except for a few who fish on the periphery, those who fight in the inner circle are all core cadres.

The number of people on both sides is equal, and the strength is basically the same.

For a while, it was difficult to distinguish the winner from the loser.

There are constantly people who are cut to the ground, and there are also unlucky people who are cut into the arteries, and blood is splattered.

The white coats of many people in Ruiduantang were soaked in blood and turned red, while the robes of those in Binggongtang were faintly wet in the sunlight.

Both sides are attributing, but neither side is willing to take a step back.

First, the location of this territory is important, and once it is seized by the other party, it is equivalent to being trampled on the head.

Last time, Binggongtang was made an off-the-beaten-track move by Yan Qingyun's people, and he was beaten to the ground.

Come back today to find a field, and it is still difficult to solve for the time being, so naturally I will not give up easily.

The people of Ruiduantang were planning to use this opportunity to consolidate their last victory, how could they just give up.

Just when Binggongtang and Ruiduantang were killed, a person probed his brain on the street.

He glanced at it, then shrank back and trotted all the way into a courtyard.

The courtyard was full of people.

The dwarf Cha Dongxiong squatted on a wooden box, holding a cigarette butt in his hand and a wooden-handled axe beside him.

"How's the fight going over there?" The dwarf took a drag on his cigarette butt and asked.

"Almost, the losses on both sides are quite large." The man who went to investigate the situation replied.

The dwarf stood up and jumped from the top of the wooden box.

He threw away the cigarette butt and picked up the axe from the box.

"Listen, wait and rush over with me, as long as it's not from Baoliangtang, cut it for me!"

The dwarf raised the axe in his hand and gave a loud command to his younger brother.

He's not tall, but he's imposing.

He led the group of people out of the courtyard and appeared on the corner of the street.

Impartiality? Ruiduantang?

From today onwards, there is only Po Leung Tang in San Francisco, and the day when he Cha Dongxiong will dominate Chinatown is coming!

(End of chapter)