Evan Lin released his grip.
At almost the exact same instant, Victor Feng lost his balance and went flying.
He spun a full seven hundred and twenty degrees in midair before crashing heavily to the ground, face-down. When he lifted his head again, his nose was already smeared with blood.
"Ah!" Victor screamed in pain, rolled over, and instead of clutching his bleeding face, he grabbed his right calf with both hands, squeezing desperately.
Everyone instinctively looked at Victor Feng’s right calf.
His right calf was twisted into a bizarre, almost pretzel-like shape, as if it had been spun halfway around.
The front of his foot had been bent completely the wrong way. The twisted look made everyone around suck in a cold breath.
"That bone's gotta be broken..." muttered a Class 5 player, voice trembling.
"What just happened? What’s up with Victor’s leg?" A Class 7 player was still confused, but seeing Victor rolling on the ground in agony, his face turned pale.
Yolanda Fang’s face was pale as she watched the scene unfold.
She glanced again at Evan Lin, whose face remained perfectly calm.
Everything had happened way too fast.
Evan Lin slowly stood up, not sparing a glance at Victor Feng, who lay on the ground with his face twisted in pain. His eyes fixed on Tyson Liu: "That was his price. Now, it’s your turn."
As Evan stood up, Tyson Liu’s legs instinctively felt weak. Tyson squinted, his expression shifting unpredictably.
Just now, Tyson Liu had tried his best to observe, hoping to figure out how Evan Lin pulled off that move.
There was no doubt: in that instant, Evan Lin had forced a massive burst of power into Victor Feng’s lower leg. That was the only way to explain what just happened.
"Nice move. Looks like you’ve trained too. But do you really think raw strength alone makes you untouchable? That’s way too naive." Tyson Liu’s voice was cold and his face dark.
Tyson Liu’s mind raced.
“The move Evan Lin used on Victor Feng just now only takes enough raw power to pull off. So, this kid’s strength is serious.” Tyson Liu calmed himself and quickly came to a conclusion.
If it’s just about brute strength, he might even be stronger than me. But fighting isn’t just about strength—it’s also about technique.
Tyson Liu's eyes flickered as he stared at Evan Lin, clenching his fists tightly.
"Strength?" Evan Lin curled his lips, knowing full well what Tyson Liu was misunderstanding about him.
That move just now did require power, but even more important was the control over that power.
At this moment, Evan was only at the first layer of Qi-Refining. Even if he added the dormant dragon in his left arm, flipping a guy like Victor Feng—who weighed over 150 pounds—with just one palm wasn’t easy.
But just now, Evan used a special qi circulation technique. His left arm muscles fired in rapid, continuous waves, sending power surging from his shoulder to his palm, each wave stacking on the last, until it all exploded from his hand.
That force finally hit Victor Feng’s lower leg, twisting it and sending him flying.
"I’ll stand right here without moving a step—hitting you will be like hitting a dog." Evan looked at Tyson Liu, his face cold and indifferent.
Like hitting a dog!
The moment Evan said this, everyone’s expression changed drastically.
Sean Sun stepped forward. Even though he feared Evan’s skills, he still trusted Tyson Liu more.
Tyson Liu’s fighting skills were recognized throughout the school, while Sean Sun thought Evan just had a few cheap tricks up his sleeve.
"Do you even know what you’re saying, Evan Lin!" Sean Sun yelled at him. "Tyson’s been the school’s top fighter since junior high. In ninth grade, he even took silver in the provincial youth free-fighting tournament."
"Don’t think you can act tough in front of Tyson just because you’ve got a few moves! You must be tired of living!"
With Sean Sun’s words, the crowd that had just been intimidated by Evan snapped back to reality.
"Tyson’s never lost a fight. Who do you think you are, Evan Lin? So what if you took down Victor Feng?" Next to Sean, a burly guy sneered, "Victor’s just big—he looks tough but he’s useless. If it were me, I could drop him with one hit too."
Victor Feng, lying on the ground, nearly coughed up blood when he heard that. Not only were these guys showing off, they had to stomp on his pride too?
But Victor Feng couldn’t care about any of that now—he was in so much pain that he was almost passing out.
"Damn it, Tyson, beat this kid up! Let’s see how cocky he can be. He looks like someone who gets smacked around all the time anyway." someone chimed in.
They were all waiting for Tyson Liu to make a move. No doubt about it—his reputation at school was something no ordinary student could shake.
Even some of the small-time thugs outside school weren’t considered a match for Tyson Liu by most of No. 2 High.
As long as Tyson Liu gave the signal, all these guys would swarm in for sure.
What’s Evan Lin compared to that?
Tyson glanced at Victor Feng, still writhing in pain on the ground, and sneered. He didn’t say another word, just clenched his fist and lunged forward, ready to strike.
Tyson was fast, but Yolanda Fang was even faster—she suddenly stepped right in front of Evan Lin.
"Yolanda, move!" Tyson’s fist tightened, then relaxed, then tightened again. "He started this—why are you still protecting him? I’ll count to three. If you don’t move, don’t blame me for being rough with you too."
Tyson’s voice was steady, but his eyes were full of impatience.
Evan beating up Victor Feng in front of everyone was a slap in Tyson’s face.
And don’t forget, Evan had already taken down Trevor Liu and Sean Sun before—those debts had to be paid sooner or later.
"You’ve got some nerve. Sure, Evan shouldn’t have hit him, but Victor Feng totally had it coming!" Yolanda Fang puffed out her chest, standing in front of Evan and glaring fiercely at Tyson.
"So what, Tyson? You planning to bully the few with the many today? Huh?" Yolanda sneered. "You want to get rough with me too? Go ahead and try! If you’ve got the guts, hit me! Come on, Tyson Liu, let’s see what you’ve got!"
Yolanda spat out every word, her tone rising to a near roar by the end.
She was like an angry lioness.
Tyson Liu raised his eyebrows.
Evan, shielded behind Yolanda, felt a headache coming on. He patted her shoulder.
"What?" Yolanda snapped, turning her head with a scowl.
"It’s fine. Step aside, I’ll handle it. Beating one is beating, beating a whole crowd is still beating. No big deal." Evan hadn’t finished when Yolanda glared at him.
"Beat, beat, beat—beat your uncle! Evan Lin, shut up! This isn’t your business!" Yolanda was annoyed. Sure, it felt great when Evan floored Victor Feng, but facing a crowd of thirty-plus, including Tyson Liu, she wasn’t so sure.
Even though she’d seen Evan’s moves at Imperial Grand KTV, Yolanda still didn’t trust letting him fight here.
Part of her worried Evan would get hurt; the other part was that this was school.
If a fight broke out on campus and something really bad happened, it’d be a huge mess.
Evan stood there with his mouth open, secretly amused. If the guys back on the Immortal Martial Continent saw the mighty Nine Mysteries Immortal Lord being shielded by a regular girl, they’d die laughing.
"Bro, maybe let it go for today? Wait till after school, then we can deal with him." Trevor Liu tugged Tyson’s sleeve, whispering in his ear.
Yolanda Fang wasn’t like the other students at No. 2 High—she had all kinds of ties to First High. And the way she stood there, fearless, who knew what kind of backing she had?
While Tyson hesitated, four figures rushed toward the field from outside.
"Over there!" Mia Chen spotted the crowd gathered at the edge of the field, but couldn’t see what was happening inside.
"Don’t tell me Evan Lin’s getting jumped by all those people in there."
The thought flashed through Mia Chen’s mind and made her anxious. She sped up.
Next to Mia was Mr. Zheng, the Class 7 homeroom teacher, and two campus security guards.
"What are you all doing! Stop! Stop right now!" Mr. Zheng was short and skinny, but his voice was sharp when he shouted.
Hearing Mr. Zheng’s shout, all the soccer players from Class 5 and Class 7 turned their heads.
"What are you doing, what’s going on here!" Mr. Zheng shoved into the crowd, clearly flustered.
If his own students got into trouble, he’d be the one to blame.
Pushing into the crowd, Mr. Zheng immediately spotted Victor Feng on the ground, his foot grotesquely twisted as he cried out in pain.
"What happened here! Call an ambulance, now!" Mr. Zheng’s face changed, and the security guard beside him quickly dialed 120.
"Who did this? Who’s responsible?" Mr. Zheng pointed at Victor Feng, furious.
The crowd went silent.
"Teacher, you should ask your own student, Evan Lin." Tyson Liu saw Mr. Zheng and smirked.
"Tyson Liu?" Mr. Zheng was momentarily stunned when he saw Tyson.
Then he followed Tyson’s gaze and saw Evan Lin standing behind Yolanda Fang. Mr. Zheng’s face fell. "Was it you who hurt Victor Feng?"
"Yeah, it was him!" someone from Class 7 shouted.
"It was Evan Lin! We can all testify—he’s the one who hurt Victor Feng!" another voice chimed in.
In an instant, everyone pointed the finger at Evan.
Tyson Liu grinned at Evan with a look of disdain.
So what if you’re strong?
If you fight at school, you’ll get expelled.
Looking as poor as you do, it’s not like your family has any connections to protect you.
Once you’re expelled, out that school gate, that’s when payback really starts.
Thinking of this, Tyson Liu shot Evan a meaningful look.
Evan kept his face cold, but before he could speak, Yolanda Fang stepped up and stared down Mr. Zheng. "Teacher, just look at Evan—look at his build and look at Victor Feng. You really think a scrawny kid like Evan could do this alone?"
"Besides, you know what kind of guy Victor Feng is and what kind of guy Evan is. Don’t tell me you don’t know the difference."