When Shawn Young heard that deep, booming male voice, his heart skipped a beat. His powers had grown a lot lately, and his senses were razor sharp—he was on high alert, tuned in to every movement around him. But now, out of nowhere, a ghostly man appeared, and Shawn hadn’t sensed a thing. No footsteps, no aura, nothing. It was downright creepy.
Shawn spun around and shouted to Alex Easton and the others, "Alex, you guys need to get out of here—now!"
"Uh—Shawn, aren’t you coming?" Alex asked, worry in his voice.
"I can’t go. That guy’s here for me—get moving! Don’t get caught up in this!" Shawn explained, voice tense.
Danny Dean, clueless as ever, hollered, "Who the hell is so cocky? Let us help you beat him up!" He craned his neck, trying to spot the guy, but saw nothing.
"Enough! I’m not joking. Danny, Jake, go with Alex and get out of here! I can handle this. I’ll catch up later," Shawn said, deadly serious.
"Let’s get out of here, don’t make things harder for Shawn. Shawn, be careful!" Alex urged, having never seen Shawn so serious. He grabbed Danny and Jake, and the three of them hurried out of the parking lot.
"Everyone except the young man—get out!" The commanding male voice echoed again, full of authority and mystery. Shawn still couldn’t figure out where the guy was hiding.
Vincent Wang shuddered as he heard the voice. He waved frantically at the wounded security guards, his voice trembling with fear: "You heard him! If you want to live, get out—crawl if you have to! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!"
Vincent hurried off toward the Golden Dragon V nightclub, leaning on a woman for support. The security guards, terrified by the killer aura, struggled to their feet and staggered out of the parking lot. In no time, Shawn was the only one left, standing motionless.
Shawn didn’t move a muscle. He could feel a cold, murderous intent locked onto him, like he’d been dropped straight into hell. Every cell in his body was shivering—he’d never sensed anything this savage before. Whoever owned this kind of aura must’ve killed a lot of people to build it up!
Shawn kept his hands in front of his chest, channeling his energy. His fingers trembled, but he stood like a statue in the middle of the lot, cold sweat beading down his face. He didn’t dare move—he knew the mysterious man had him locked in, and even the slightest twitch could mean instant death. He couldn’t afford a single mistake.
A real fight isn’t just about who’s stronger—it’s a battle of wits, experience, grit, and patience. That’s what decides the winner.
Time ticked by. The man still didn’t show himself, and Shawn stayed perfectly still, his face blank, neither happy nor sad. The killer intent never faded. Eventually, darkness fell and the parking lot lights flickered on, but no cars came in. The place felt completely cut off from the world.
Finally, a faint smirk appeared on Shawn’s lips. He called out, "Heh—getting tired already, friend? If you can’t keep up, why not come out?"
His voice echoed, but the parking lot stayed dead silent. No reply. Shawn shrugged, dropped the tense act, and strolled over to Vincent Wang’s BMW, planning to rummage for a snack. After standing like a statue for so long, he was starving.
No luck—there was nothing to eat in Vincent’s BMW. Instead, Shawn found a pile of fruity condoms, a big black massage wand, and a stack of Playboy magazines. The cover featured a busty model, and Shawn couldn’t help but flip through it, eyes wide at the steamy photos. He groaned, "Damn, this fat perv treats this stuff like food!"
Just then, the deep male voice drifted over again: "For someone so young, your composure is truly remarkable."
A tall man finally stepped out from the shadows at the edge of the lot. Under the dim lights, his long shadow stretched behind him. He moved slow at first, but in a blink, he was right in front of Shawn—no sound, no footsteps, just pure ghostly speed. It was freaky.
Shawn peeked out from Vincent’s BMW, sizing up the newcomer—a man in his sixties, hands clasped behind his back, dressed in black Tang-style clothes. For his age, his hair was jet-black and shiny, and his face was striking, with a hooked nose and piercing eyes. Most unusual were his silver eyebrows, arched upward, giving him a fierce, intimidating vibe.