"Are you talking to me?"
Quentin Shang turned around again, his gaze sweeping over the crowd beside Evan Lin, every inch of him brimming with pent-up inner force, ready to explode.
Just now, the voice sounded as if it rang right next to his ear.
But the boy in front of him clearly showed not the slightest trace of inner force.
So maybe the real expert is hidden in the crowd, not showing himself?
Who else could it be besides you?
Evan Lin bent down, finished cleaning the dust off Jill Jing's face, looked at the little wound on her cheek, and sighed: "Luckily, it's not deep. Give it a few days, it'll heal up, and won't leave any scar."
It sounded like he was talking to Jill Jing, but also as if he was chatting with Quentin Shang, or maybe just talking to himself.
This time, Quentin Shang's gaze suddenly sharpened.
He could confirm it was Evan Lin who just spoke, but he couldn't figure out how this kid, who clearly had zero inner force, managed to let his voice land so clearly in Quentin's ears from fifty meters away.
"You got some kind of sound-transmission artifact?"
He frowned, asking again.
Right now, that seemed like the only possible explanation.
"Take care of her."
Evan Lin placed Jill Jing's hand into Selina Wu's palm, letting her hold it.
Selina Wu nodded. At this point, she knew any words would be pointless.
Evan Lin straightened up, walked toward Quentin Shang, not planning to answer his question. His voice was calm: "Is your surname Shang or Rowe?"
Shang?
Rowe?
When these two surnames reached Selina Wu's ears, her brows furrowed.
Selina Wu had heard a bit about what happened in Beijing a few days ago.
But whether it was the Shang family or the ancient-martial Rowe clan, none of it had anything to do with Selina Wu's circles. She'd just listened and let it pass.
Only now, hearing Evan Lin mention those two surnames again, made her heart tighten a bit.
"You know about all that?"
Quentin Shang saw the boy in front of him coming closer, raised an eyebrow, his face darkening: "So it looks like you might be involved with what happened before?"
"That works out. If you just follow me quietly now, you'll suffer a lot less."
He gave a mocking smile, his expression full of contempt.
"So, Shang or Rowe?"
Evan Lin shook his head slightly: "You didn't answer me. That's not good."
"People who don't listen need to get beaten."
A lot of people were watching nearby.
Quentin Shang carried a powerful 'keep away' aura; nobody dared get close.
Evan Lin's voice wasn't loud, but every word landed in people's ears, making them turn their heads again and again.
Mostly, it was surprise and admiration.
Admiration for Evan Lin daring to talk to Quentin Shang like that.
Just comparing their builds, anyone with half a brain could see who's stronger.
"Beaten?"
Quentin Shang sneered, eyes full of contempt as he stared at Evan Lin: "You really think I don't see through your little plan?"
"This is a main street in Beijing, packed with people. If I make a move here, it'll cause all kinds of trouble."
"Isn't that exactly what you want?"
"With nothing but your empty bravado and zero actual strength, you're just a joke I could crush with one hand!"
Quentin Shang was about to speak.
Evan Lin was already right in front of him.
He raised his hand.
And slapped him.
Whatever Quentin Shang was about to say got stuck in his throat.
His face twisted to the side, half of it numb and swollen, eyes wide, three bloody teeth flying out of his mouth.
"You want to die!"
Quentin Shang's face suddenly turned icy, and so did his heart.
With his Pointing-to-Mystery Realm cultivation, he should've been able to react—but when this kid raised his hand and slapped him, Quentin didn't even get a chance to respond!
Pointing-to-Mystery Realm.
Inner force usually flows freely throughout the body.
With inner force, it's like having extra armor on your body.
But the sheer force in that slap shattered his inner force and broke his teeth!
Quentin Shang, as if facing a mortal enemy, shouted explosively. He grabbed a parked car beside him in one hand, lifted the whole thing, and swung it at Evan Lin.
The crowd erupted in chaos.
Someone screamed in shock.
Someone else shouted excitedly, "Holy crap!"
One-handedly lifting a car—how much strength does that take?
And as the car came crashing toward Evan Lin, it was also charged with Quentin Shang's fierce inner force.
The steel frame of the car twisted and warped under the inner force.
Without a hint of hesitation, Quentin Shang used his other hand to viciously chop at Evan Lin's neck.
Inside the commercial street, the wind was completely sliced apart by Quentin Shang, turning into a chaotic, roaring turbulence mixed with savage, beast-like energy. The ground shattered, debris flying everywhere.
The car came down right on top of Evan Lin.
Everyone's hearts clenched at once.
Selina Wu's face went pale; Jill Jing trembled all over.
Just when everyone thought the boy in front would be crushed into a pile of broken flesh by the car...
The next moment, everyone saw the boy's right hand, fingers pressed together into a blade.
He moved gently and slowly, extending his single hand-blade right toward the fierce car.
He chopped.
Is he really going to split the car with his bare hand?
The onlookers found this scene both ridiculous and absurd.
But in the very next instant—
No one dared make a sound.
Where the seemingly thin hand-blade passed, the car was sliced cleanly, the cut smooth as glass.
The massive car was split in two as easily as if it were nothing.
The shattered car's body revealed a completely ruined, deformed engine, metal parts clattering with crisp, ringing sounds.
That seemingly ordinary hand-blade kept moving forward.
It split the car in two.
It didn't stop.
Quentin Shang stared at the boy in front of him, his face still calm.
Every hair on his body stood on end, cold sweat soaking his back.
Without a moment's hesitation, Quentin Shang stomped the ground, roared, and brought his hands together, gathering a surge of inner force to meet the oncoming hand-blade.
He just needed a breath's worth of time.
If he could just push off and leap up, he might have a chance to escape.
But that seemingly slow hand-blade was even faster than he imagined.
In the instant before death—
"Whether you answer or not, it doesn't matter."
Quentin Shang heard the boy's faint voice in front of him. Right after, all he could see was the hand-blade and that calm, indifferent face.
"Shang family, Rowe family, doesn't matter."
"Both will be wiped out."
As the words left his mouth—
That was the last thing Quentin Shang ever heard.
Because the hand-blade had already struck.
All Quentin saw was the edge of that hand-blade.
But in Quentin's eyes, it was no longer an ordinary hand.
His eyes were full of terror. The last thing he saw was a surge of razor-sharp sword qi.
Eighty-one streams of sword qi.
All released from the boy's hand-blade, slicing Quentin Shang into eighty-one pieces.
The crowd watched as the man who'd just lifted a car suddenly widened his eyes in terror.
And the boy's hand-blade, so fierce it was beyond belief, never even touched the man's body.
But in that moment, everything ended abruptly.