In the car, Evan Lin sat in the front passenger seat, turning his head to look out the window.
The minivan sped along the road. The two underlings who'd just been beaten up by Buck Niu hung their heads low, not saying a word.
Big Tank sat in the back, staring at Evan's silhouette in the front seat, his eyes full of resentment.
If it hadn’t been for Evan, Big Tank’s men wouldn’t have gotten beaten, and he wouldn’t have been humiliated right to his face.
If you’ve got a problem, just say it. Don’t bottle it up—you're already fat enough, and if you keep holding it in, you’ll end up with health issues.” Evan’s voice was calm, echoing in the car.
“No, no, Brother Nine Mysteries, how could I possibly have any complaints? It’s just, what happened just now really pissed me off. My guys got beat up and, as their number two, I couldn’t even stand up for them.” Big Tank grumbled in his deep, muffled voice.
No way was he ever going to try anything with Evan—not after Charlie Liang said the guy who trashed Imperial Grand the other night was none other than Evan “Nine Mysteries” Lin. Even if Big Tank had doubts, he wasn’t about to test it himself.
And in what he’d just said, Big Tank made sure to emphasize he was only the number two—so it was obvious who the real boss was.
When Charlie Liang told Big Tank to hand over his turf, normally not even Victor Yu could make him agree so easily—after all, running a bar meant money. But thinking about all the trouble at his place lately, Big Tank just went ahead and said yes without another word.
"So you’re number two—does that mean I’m supposed to be your boss now?" Evan’s tone stayed flat. Only now did Big Tank realize that, for all his years sizing people up, he still couldn’t read this young guy in the passenger seat at all.
After hesitating a moment, Big Tank said, “Charlie told me to have you look after my turf, so yeah, that makes you our boss.”
Big Tank’s eyes flickered—he was basically blaming Evan for not stepping in or saying anything earlier.
“Sorry, but I have zero interest in being the boss of a bunch of scumbags like you. You go ahead and keep your title—I’m Evan Nine Mysteries Lin, not your boss.” Evan leaned back in the passenger seat, gazing at the street outside, his voice still calm.
Big Tank and his crew’s faces shifted between gloom and annoyance, but they kept quiet.
Keep acting tough. I hope you really know how to fight—otherwise, you’re in for it soon!
Big Tank grumbled to himself. Back in the day, he might’ve flipped out already, but lately, with all the trouble at his turf, he just swallowed his anger.
The car gradually grew silent.
SK Bar was located on Bar Street in Peaceview District—a commercial strip lined with bars, right next to a shopping street. Every night, this place turned into a paradise for young people looking to have fun.
SK Bar, right at the central intersection of Bar Street in Peaceview District, was managed directly by Imperial Grand—prime real estate in the busiest part of the nightlife zone.
In this high-priced area, SK Bar was a hot commodity in everyone’s eyes.
Going further inside, the bar had two floors. In the center was a stage, with microphones and speakers set up.
To the right was the bar counter, with silver-gray high stools lined up, giving off a somewhat cold vibe.
Behind the bar, the bartender was polishing his tools. He glanced at Evan as he walked in, saw his shabby clothes, then looked away.
On a nearby sofa sat several girls, all made up and dressed in short skirts and hot pants, showing some skin as they played on their phones. None paid Evan any attention, but one girl saw Big Tank come in, got up, and called out to him sweetly.
Evan took in the layout—there was a spiral staircase to the second floor, but there weren’t many people upstairs yet.
"Is this your new lackey? Big Tank, your taste is getting worse." The woman glanced at Evan, giggled, and Big Tank just smiled without arguing.
A few other women glanced at Big Tank, nodded politely, but didn’t bother to be overly friendly.
Looks like he’s not very popular here.
Evan wondered—normally, since Big Tank ran the place, the girls who worked here should be trying to please him. But from the look of it, none of them seemed to care much about him.
Just as Evan was thinking, a group of people came in from outside. The girls who’d been glued to their seats suddenly lit up, stood up, and went to greet them.
They walked right past Evan without even glancing at him, completely ignoring him.
S-sorry! The cleaning lady, in her fifties with a face full of wrinkles, saw Big Tank covered in dirty water and panicked. She instinctively pulled a rag from her pocket to help wipe him off.
Damn it! Are you blind? This outfit cost me hundreds!' Big Tank glared, raising his hand to slap her.
But before he could bring his hand down, he suddenly felt his wrist hurting, like it was caught in an iron clamp.
It was just a little water—getting this mad, Big Tank, you sure look tough.' Evan stared coldly at him, making Big Tank shiver all over. He quickly shook his head, 'No, no, not tough at all. I was wrong, I was wrong. Sorry, Auntie, sorry!'
Big Tank’s face changed faster than flipping a book. When Evan let go, he looked at his wrist—now ringed with a red mark.
Damn, he’s strong!
Big Tank was surprised. He was fat, with thick wrists, but Evan’s grip still made him ache.
You two, help Auntie dump the water!' Big Tank ordered his two injured underlings.
Thank you, thank you!' The cleaning lady looked gratefully at Evan, who nodded slightly and didn’t say anything more.
Going further inside, the bar had two floors. In the center was a stage, with microphones and speakers set up.
To the right was the bar counter, with silver-gray high stools lined up, giving off a somewhat cold vibe.
Behind the bar, the bartender was polishing his tools. He glanced at Evan as he walked in, saw his shabby clothes, then looked away.
On a nearby sofa sat several girls, all made up and dressed in short skirts and hot pants, showing some skin as they played on their phones. None paid Evan any attention, but one girl saw Big Tank come in, got up, and called out to him sweetly.
Evan took in the layout—there was a spiral staircase to the second floor, but there weren’t many people upstairs yet.
Is this your new lackey? Big Tank, your taste is getting worse.' The woman glanced at Evan, giggled, and Big Tank just smiled without arguing.
A few other women glanced at Big Tank, nodded politely, but didn’t bother to be overly friendly.
Looks like he’s not very popular here.
Evan wondered—normally, since Big Tank ran the place, the girls who worked here should be trying to please him. But from the look of it, none of them seemed to care much about him.
Just as Evan was thinking, a group of people came in from outside. The girls who’d been glued to their seats suddenly lit up, stood up, and went to greet them.
They walked right past Evan without even glancing at him, completely ignoring him.