But the teen under the pine tree didn’t move at all—just his calm, indifferent gaze kept them frozen in place.
A wave of pressure, vast as the sea, crashed over their nerves—no one dared move.
Evan Lin watched Joy Zheng pedal away until she vanished, then said coolly, "Follow my mom and keep her safe."
As he finished, three ghostly figures—the Three Maiden Spirits—surged out of Evan’s backpack, summoned from the Soul-Sacrifice Beauty Scroll.
They floated in midair. Normally, yin spirits would fear sunlight, but the Three Maiden Spirits—long bound to the Soul-Sacrifice Beauty Scroll and strengthened by following Evan—no longer shrank from daylight.
The Three Maiden Spirits streaked after Joy Zheng, while the thugs in front of the van glanced nervously at Evan Lin, eyes flickering.
Evan Lin strode over. "Do you even realize what you’re up against? Trash like you dare challenge my anger?"
Tired of living, all of you?
Evan Lin’s voice was cold and indifferent.
Seeing Evan Lin coming, the men who’d seen him fight before instinctively backed away, faces full of terror.
The nearby thugs who hadn’t seen Evan Lin in action before had only heard rumors that he was trouble. As Evan got closer, one of them suddenly gritted his teeth. “He’s just some punk kid! How tough can he be? Come on, let’s grab him and haul him back!”
A burly thug roared and charged, but before he could get close, Evan Lin casually backhanded him. The man went flying, head lolling as he passed out cold.
He didn’t even have time to grunt.
Seeing this, the rest of the group’s faces changed. No one dared step forward now—they just stared at Evan Lin, jittery and anxious.
The air was thick with tension.
Finally, one guy couldn’t take it anymore and bolted for the van. With a leader, the rest scrambled in after him, slamming the doors and getting ready to peel out.
Evan Lin snorted, stomped the ground, and leapt forward, landing squarely in front of the van.
"Run him over! Crush him!"
Someone inside the van shouted as Evan Lin stood in front of them.
The driver, sweating bullets, slammed his foot down on the gas.
The van shot toward Evan Lin, but he calmly raised his hand and pressed his palm to the hood. The fully loaded van screeched to a weird, dead stop, unable to move an inch.
"Step on it!"
One of the thugs, seeing the van wasn’t moving, yelled at the driver.
"I... I haven’t let up on the gas!" the driver stammered, drenched in sweat.
The driver, forehead slick with sweat, stared at Evan Lin standing in front of the van. This van had been professionally modified—its engine was twice as strong as normal.
Yet the guy at the hood stopped it cold with just one hand!
The speedometer was redlining, but the van didn’t budge. The engine’s roar sent chills down everyone’s spine.
The road wasn’t busy; only a few people in the distance glanced over, seeing just the van stopped there—not the teen blocking its path.
"You—get out."
Evan Lin stared through the windshield at one of the thugs inside.
That thug was the one who’d just let Joy Zheng go.
He’d seen Evan Lin flatten a whole crew at the shantytown. Now, cowering in the van’s corner, he peeked out, eyes wide with terror.
"No, please! I... I’m not getting out!" the thug protested, face pale.
"I’m sorry!"
He looked like he might cry, staring at Evan Lin—who’d stopped the van with one hand—shaking in terror, legs weak.
Being called out by Evan Lin in public made him feel like he was about to wet himself.
"Damn it! If he says get out, you get out!" one of the others snapped.
After a second of silence, someone by the door yanked it open and kicked the thug out.
To them, inside the van was safer than out.
The thug hit the ground face-first, scrambling to his feet as the van door slammed shut behind him.
Cursing under his breath, he didn’t dare look back—just bolted.
He’d barely taken half a step before a shadow flashed overhead—the packed van soared over him, slamming into a nearby wall with a burst of sparks.
Through the shattered windows, he saw his former companions pounding frantically on the glass.
They tried to open the doors and escape, but the next instant, the engine exploded.
Boom!
The white van’s roof blew off, flames scorching the pavement black.
The blast and tremor quickly drew a crowd, people running over to see what happened.
He realized that if he hadn’t been kicked out, he’d be dead—cold sweat pouring down his back.
"Take me to your boss. I don’t mind if you try to run—if you think you can get away."
Evan Lin walked past him, voice cool, face emotionless.