With a quick turn of his head, he saw that at some point, a large group of people had started tailing him and the The Grant Family from behind. Each one had a face full of menace, and quite a few were even wielding clubs and sticks.

At the front was none other than the fat man David Brooks, who had taken two beatings from William Grant. At this moment, he stood proudly at the head of the group, pointing forward like a sword.

"Hey! Little thief, if I don't make you kneel and call me grandpa today, I'll take your surname!"

"...Damn," William Grant looked at David Brooks's despicable face, and at the crowd of The Brooks Family that was at least twice as many as his own side, and his scalp tingled.

He sized up the straight street, which had no shops, only enclosing walls.

Could it be that today I have to roll up my sleeves and do a city street run through Song Dynasty Bianliang?

Chapter 8: Are You Willing to Turn Swords into Plowshares, Speak!

The street, which had been bustling with the people of Tokyo Bianliang, was now lined with citizens hugging the walls with practiced ease.

With their hands over their heads, heads tilted, and eyes wide with surprise and bewilderment, they watched the two groups about to clash.

After all, the public security in Tokyo Bianliang was just so-so, and there were more than enough spoiled sons from noble families.

Add to that the countless wandering heroes, all sorts of mixed-up gangs everywhere, and group brawls were a common sight.

So, the people of Tokyo Bianliang had long since stopped being surprised.

They knew exactly how to avoid being mistaken for gang members, how to watch the excitement up close without getting caught up in the fight.

Their speed and skill at dodging were so practiced it was almost heartbreaking.

With victory in hand, Samuel Brooks tilted his head, and a pack of wolf-like Brooks Residence Guard charged forward, clubs in hand.

By the carriage, Yvonne Foster's face had turned green. He quickly reached under the carriage and pulled out a baton, still offering his young master a sincere suggestion.

"Young master, in my humble opinion, a gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years. Please, young master, retreat for now..."

"..." William Grant couldn't help but look at this trusted aide, who had just used two historical allusions, with new respect—but seriously, aren't you chickening out a bit too fast?

At this moment, chaos had already broken out ahead.

Just then, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. William Grant turned his head.

He saw the drill instructor of the 800,000 Imperial Guards, Matthew Lane, running over with a spear that had lost its tip but still had a striking red tassel.

He heard the imposing Instructor Lane, brandishing his blunt-tipped spear, shout as he charged over.

"Young master, don't panic! With Matthew Lane here, no one can harm a single hair on your head!"

Before he finished speaking, Matthew Lane had already moved like a dragon, using his spear to send a Brooks Residence Guard who had broken through the The Grant Family's defensive line flying through the air.

Seeing that Brooks Residence Guard fly nearly ten feet, and watching Matthew Lane twirl his red-tasseled spear like a blooming red flower, flashing back and forth—

The Brooks Residence Servant, who had previously held the advantage in numbers, were like Wei soldiers at Changban Slope, being beaten and sent flying by Zhao Zilong's dragon-like spear.

Matthew Lane was full of energy, showing off his spear and staff skills to the fullest.

Young Master Grant had mentioned the 800,000 Imperial Guards' instructor Lin Chong several times; surely he never expected that his own skills would be this formidable.

Fortunately, this incident of a gang assault on Young Master Grant gave him the perfect opportunity to display his extraordinary abilities.

With this, maybe Young Master Grant would put in a good word for him with the Grand Commandant, and he could leave that upstart Lin Chong, who dared covet his instructor position, in the dust.

Just as the ambitious Matthew Lane was fighting with all his might, spear flashing like a dragon, he heard Young Master Grant shouting from behind.

"Great skills, Instructor Lane! That little fat guy in the brocade robe—catch him, and you'll have done a great deed!"

Hearing this, Matthew Lane's eyes lit up. His sharp gaze swept the scene and immediately spotted the half-grown fat boy standing outside the melee, flanked by two strong men, staring at him in shock.

With a flick of his spear, a red flower burst forth, and he sent another club-wielding thug rolling away.

Then he strode forward, heading straight for the little fat boy in the brocade robe.

Samuel Brooks stared blankly at the chaos before him. He had brought so many elite fighters today, hoping to redeem himself.

Yet out of nowhere appeared this master of the red-tasseled spear.

Even the Andrew Brooks his own father had sent to help him couldn't take two moves, and was now curled up on the ground like a drunken shrimp, twitching uncontrollably.

At this moment, as soon as that scoundrel William Grant spoke, the man with the red-tasseled spear came straight for him.

Samuel Brooks was instantly terrified, turned around, and tried to escape on his short, chubby legs.

Matthew Brooks and Peter Brooks braced themselves to block the way, but how could they possibly stop the instructor of the 800,000 Imperial Guards?

In just a few moves, they were knocked to the ground, forced to watch helplessly as the burly man with the red-tasseled spear captured David Brooks.

...

A group of bruised and battered The Brooks Family were herded to one side, while their own sixth young master had been captured alive.