"Tyson, Trevor." Victor Feng glanced at the group walking in from outside the soccer field. Instantly forgetting about his recent missed goal, he plastered on a big smile and strode forward to greet Tyson Liu and Trevor Liu.
Trevor Liu nodded slightly at Victor. "Oh, Victor, huh? I'm not here for you today. Where’s Evan Lin from your class?"
Tyson Liu didn’t even bother to glance at Victor Feng, but Victor didn’t mind at all.
Victor’s eyes sparkled with glee. "He’s right over there! Did that punk Evan finally piss you off, Trevor? Let me take you to him!"
Victor patted his chest, then turned to look at Evan Lin sitting by the field, a glint of schadenfreude in his eyes.
"You keep fronting in class, and I only cut you slack because of Yolanda Fang. But now you’ve gone and annoyed Trevor Liu yourself—don’t blame me for what happens next."
"I’m just doing Trevor Liu a favor—so even if Yolanda Fang comes asking, it’s out of my hands." Victor grinned, practically itching for a chance to lay Evan out.
To Victor, Evan Lin was dead meat.
Tyson Liu led his group, following behind Victor. He glanced at the small, quiet figure sitting by the field and raised an eyebrow: "Trevor, you sure it's that kid?"
"You really think that scrawny kid managed to beat you and Sean, plus those PE jocks you called over?" Tyson squinted, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Bro, it's definitely him. Don't let his size fool you—he's crazy fast."
"There were a bunch of us, but none of us could even touch him." Sean Sun leaned in and whispered to Tyson, his gaze toward Evan Lin still tinged with fear.
Victor, leading the way, ignored Tyson's group's muttering and strode straight up to Evan Lin. Reaching the field's edge, he jabbed a finger at Evan's nose: "Hey, I'm talking to you—stand up!"
Victor shouted at Evan, backed by Tyson Liu's crew of five. Behind them, players from Class 5 and Class 7's soccer teams gathered.
"Look at Evan Lin just sitting there—not running at all. Is he so scared of Tyson that his legs went soft?" joked a boy from Class 7.
"Definitely. Just look at him now—he's like a quail, pretending to sleep and hoping he can dodge the mess." Another Class 7 boy waited eagerly for the drama to unfold.
"Evan Lin? Wait, isn’t he that freak who gave Yolanda Fang some racy underwear? Guys like him are just begging for a beatdown—should’ve gotten wrecked ages ago." The Class 5 boys, hearing Evan’s name, got fired up, itching to jump in.
Everyone turned to stare at Evan Lin sitting there.
Hatred flashed in Trevor Liu and Sean Sun’s eyes—if it weren’t for Evan Lin, they wouldn’t have been too scared to show up at school these last few days.
With Tyson Liu backing him up, Victor Feng felt bold. Eager to show off in front of Tyson and Trevor, he got even more aggressive.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Victor jabbed his finger at Evan Lin's nose, but Evan just sat there like a meditating monk, eyes still closed.
Ignored.
Completely, blatantly ignored.
That straight-up, in-your-face disregard burned Victor—his face clouded over.
"Damn it, can't you hear me? Are you deaf?" Victor roared. He'd wanted to beat up Evan Lin back in class—now was his chance!
Victor stepped forward, raised his right leg, and kicked at Evan Lin.
The air whistled with the force of his kick.
It was a powerful kick.
He was the striker for Class 7’s soccer team—his legs packed a punch.
Victor was sure he’d send Evan Lin flying with this kick.
Just as Victor’s foot was about to land, Evan Lin—who hadn’t moved at all—suddenly raised his left hand.
"No way... How?" Victor’s face changed instantly.
Evan Lin’s left hand caught Victor’s shin in midair, gripping it firmly.
All the force from that kick vanished instantly.
Even Tyson Liu, who’d been watching Evan Lin with narrowed eyes, was stunned for a moment at the sight.
Blocking Victor’s kick with a hand wasn’t hard.
Tyson figured he could do that too, but what was impressive was how Evan instantly absorbed all the force.
"Let go! You bastard!" Victor cursed, trying to yank his leg free, but Evan’s grip was like an iron clamp—no matter how hard Victor struggled, it was useless.
"Back in class, I let you off once. I figured you wouldn’t change, but at least you’d stop bothering me so much."
"But I was wrong." Evan Lin kept his eyes closed, voice icy and detached.
The others heard this and felt a chill run down their spines.
"You think you’re hot stuff for not backing down? Evan Lin, let go and see if I don’t drop you with one punch!" Victor was stuck in a ridiculous one-legged pose, wobbling like a total clown.
Missing his kick and ending up like this in front of everyone made Victor feel utterly humiliated.
Everyone was watching!
Victor’s face went pale, then flushed red with rage. He wanted nothing more than to rush Evan Lin and stomp him into the dirt.
"Hey! Stop it! What do you think you’re doing?" Yolanda Fang had wanted to come over as soon as she saw Tyson Liu’s crew heading for Evan Lin, but the girls from her class held her back.
She finally broke free and ran over.
Seeing Evan Lin surrounded, Yolanda’s face darkened. "Tyson Liu, you just got back to school and you’re already causing trouble?"
Tyson Liu eyed Yolanda with interest. "Well, well, if it isn’t Yolanda Fang. What, I need your permission to do something now?"
"Evan Lin is my friend. If he’s done something to upset you, talk to me." Yolanda hesitated a moment before stepping forward. With the lingerie incident still fresh, her words made people speculate.
"Yolanda, are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re actually friends with that pervert." A Class 5 soccer player looked heartbroken, disbelief on his face.
"Yeah, Yolanda, I don’t buy it. How could you be friends with someone like that? Unless you two have some secret thing going on." Another Class 5 boy said, clutching his head in despair.
"Can you not be so dirty-minded? Who I’m friends with is none of your business." Yolanda snapped, fed up.
"Tsk, Yolanda, don’t think just because you’re tight with Li Qingsong’s crew from No. 1 High that I won’t mess with you." Tyson Liu stared at Yolanda, eyes brazen. "You’re sticking up for this guy—if Ethan Yi hears about it, what’ll he think? Didn’t you always want to get close to Ethan? Aren’t you afraid of the rumors?"
At the mention of Ethan Yi, Yolanda’s expression flickered, but she didn’t back down. She glared at Tyson Liu and spat, "None of your damn business."
Silence.
When Yolanda shot those words at Tyson Liu, everyone—Class 5, Class 7, Tyson’s crew—felt a chill.
Tyson Liu’s cocky grin froze. He tipped his head back, licked his lips, and the smile vanished completely.
"Crap, bro’s about to lose it," Trevor Liu thought, groaning inwardly.
"None of my damn business? Good one." Tyson Liu nodded at Yolanda, then pointed at Victor Feng, still stuck in his crane stance in front of Evan Lin.
Victor was suddenly the center of attention again, silently cursing his numb right leg—he could barely stand.
"It’s all Evan Lin’s fault. Just wait till I get my leg free—he’s dead meat!" Victor fumed, trying again to yank his leg free, but failed.
"He’s Trevor’s lackey, and Trevor’s my brother. Your friend is messing with my brother’s guy—how do you want to settle this?" Tyson’s voice was ice-cold. "I’m not interested in your business, Yolanda, so you’d better stay out of mine."
"Evan, let go. Just let him go," Yolanda turned to Evan Lin and called out.
If Evan let go now, Yolanda’s status might not protect him forever, but it could buy him some time.
"Let go? Why should I?" Evan Lin shook his head. "Victor needs to pay for what he’s done. In this world, everyone has to answer for their actions."
"He messed with me once—I let it slide. But twice? No way I’m giving him a third chance." Evan said coolly.
Yolanda’s face fell, frustrated—why was Evan so stubborn?
There were five in Tyson Liu’s crew, plus players from Class 5 and Class 7—more than twenty, almost thirty people.
If Tyson really started a fight, Yolanda knew the soccer players would jump in and Evan would get swarmed.
Everyone knows you go after the easy targets.
"See, Yolanda? Don’t say I’m not showing you respect—your friend just threw it away." Tyson Liu snorted, eyes locked on Evan Lin. "Victor’s my guy now. Let’s see you stop him from coming at you again!"
"Easy. You want to see? I’ll show you." Evan Lin slowly opened his eyes, looking calmly at Victor.
Evan’s left hand, gripping Victor’s shin, pulsed with a subtle, almost invisible tremor—a thread of energy snaked through his muscles, hinting at something otherworldly.
Victor didn’t realize what was happening—then his face twisted in shock, mouth open, unable even to cry out.