Manipulative Harem God

Tang Lifen agreed, "Very well, Iron Fist. You shall have your duel. Zhang Wei will represent us."

Zhang Wei, wearing a sly grin, subtly stepped back, gently pushing Tang Lifen forward. "I am feeling a bit under the weather from night's exertions. The Scarlet Lady herself shall lead the juniors by example today!"

"!"

"Wh—"

"Night exercises? Huh?"

"But it's still evening."

A wave of murmurs and confusion swept through the crowd as Tang Lifen's face darkened with anger, her eyes narrowing sharply as she stood there, momentarily stunned.

"You—" she was on the verge of lunging towards the brother, her lips parting to thank him for his reveal, but he had already slipped away, to 'impart education' on the juniors.

"Huh?"

Meanwhile, Iron Fist, eyes widening in a mix of anticipation and fury, watched as Zhang Wei approached him, a relaxed chuckle escaping his lips.

"So you finally want to fight me? Haha, do you even know who I am, the great Iron Fist Che—"

Boooooom!

Before Iron Fist could finish his grand proclamation, Zhang Wei, who had been casually walking towards him, suddenly vanished and reappeared directly behind where Iron Fist had just stood.

Whoosh!

In a flash, Iron Fist's body was hurtling like a cannonball, smashing into the wall with a resounding crash.

Bam!

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"Argh—"

"Ugh!"

Beneath him, more than a dozen of his subordinates were crushed as Iron Fist's eyes flew open in shock. He staggered to his feet, "You Mf! Sneak attac—"

Boom!

This time, a boulder hurled through the air, striking him squarely on the head, rattling him even further.

Boom!

Zhang Wei stood nonchalantly in the sspot.

"Iron Fist Chen, was it?" He couldn't help but smile, before sauntering toward the now wide-eyed Iron Fist, who trembled, his face contorting grotesquely with each step Zhang Wei took, wondering which malevolent spirit he had managed to anger today.

The subordinates, in a panic, attempted to flee but not before—

Puchi!

Puchi!

Puchi!

Their heads burst, spraying the vicinity in a beautiful spectacle, startling everyone present, including a now pale Iron Fist. "B-Brother we can tal—"

Slap!

Before he could finish his plea, a slap whipped across his face, knocking several teeth loose.

Iron Fist's mind reeled from the impact, his hand flying to his bloodied mouth as he staggered back, disbelief and pain clouding his vision.

His eyes, watery and filled with a mix of fear and rage, darted around, seeking an escape or perhaps a sliver of mercy.

"Brother, please! Can we have a word?" Iron Fist stammered, his voice quivering as he tried to stitch his dignity back together, albeit with the skill of a toddler wielding a needle.

Zhang Wei advanced with an unsettling calm, his pace leisurely yet deliberate, his eyes dark with unvoiced threats. "Word? After you've unleashed chaos?" He swept his hand dramatically over the scene—bodies scattered, faces etched with fear. "You forget who you serve and now wish for peace?"

He halted mere feet from Iron Fist, his stature commanding, his presence overwhelming. "You thought you could masquerade as a leader, inflict harm on our people, and face no retribution?" His voice was cold, each syllable heavy with disdain.

"..."

Iron Fist, clutching his bruised cheek, struggled to regain his composure.

His mind was a whirlwind of panic and fury, his confidence faltering. 'He's the boss? This bastard wants my throne!'

"I... I misspoke, master! Forgive me, I didn't realize... we didn't know... We didn't know you were gracing us with your esteemed return..." Iron Fist managed a strained smile, his fists clenched not out of anger but more from the sheer awkwardness of his words.

From the sidelines, Tang Lifen watched the farcical showdown, her expression unreadable.

Yet, if one looked closely, the slight twitch of her lips might suggest she found the theatricality of the scene slightly amusing—or perhaps it was just a twinge of sympathy for the foolhardy Iron Fist.

'What on earth is this circus?' Tang Lifen mused silently, her eyes flicking over the scene with a mix of bewilderment and a hint of amusement at the absurdity before her.

The remnants of Iron Fist's crew, once puffed up with bravado, now whispered among themselves in a state of near panic.

"Is he really the master of our mighty Iron Fist?"

"How could the Boss forget his own mentor so embarrassingly? Disgraceful!"

Their respect for Iron Fist seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon, leaving a cloud of disillusionment hanging above thier heads.

"Ugh!" Iron Fist gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as if he were trying to chew on the reality of his situation.

Eyeing the smirking figure before him, he realized that any misplaced words might just expedite his meeting with the mythical Yama.

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"Master... Might I take my leave now?" he asked, his voice laced with a reluctant politeness that bordered on sarcasm.

Zhang Wei, clearly savoring the drama, gave a slow, deliberate nod.

He then turned to Tang Lifen, his tone laced with mock solemnity, "Iron Fist—You have forgotten your own master and brought disgrace upon us. From this moment on, you are unworthy to lead these men! I shall take it upon myself to oversee your 'progress' from now on. Lifen, go and fetch sblank stamp papers."

"..."

Tang Lifen's eyebrows knitted together in a mix of skepticism and mild annoyance.

'Isn't this overkill?' she mused, watching as Zhang Wei perhaps aimed to own everything down to Iron Fist's last sock.

Iron Fist's face clouded over with despair; tears glistened in his eyes as he reluctantly signed the blank papers.

With a heavy sigh, he turned, showing them his back marked by defeat. He shuffled away with his crew in tow, their shoulders slumped in resignation, leaving behind a smirking Zhang Wei, who gloated over the signed documents with glee.

The cold efficiency of brother's actions sent a chill through the women who were watching, yet Zhang Wei nonchalantly tossed the papers toward Yin Yaqing.

Whoosh!

She caught them reflexively, her mouth still hanging open in shock from the swift and ruthless proceedings.

"Close your mouth, a fly might get in! And while you're at it, use these to draft a contract transferring everything from Iron Fist to me," Zhang Wei quipped with a cheeky grin, his tone light yet undeniably commanding.

Tang Lifen, "..."

Yin Yaqing, "..."

As they watched him walk away, his smile wide and satisfied, they couldn't help but reinterpret this one-off event as perhaps a regular aspect of his 'professional' career.

Regardless, Zhang Wei was thoroughly pleased with himself; seizing Iron Fist's assets had been almost laughably easy.

With this pace, he mused, his mission to dominate the underworld of Xianghui would soon be accomplished— perhaps sooner than anticipated.