The crowd was dead silent—no sound at all.
Everyone looked up, gazing toward the distant sky. There were a few clouds, the same blue sky as always, and some startled birds flapping away, their chirping filling the air.
But the burly man who, just a moment ago, had been standing here with fists raised, ready for a fight, was nowhere to be seen.
Even some guests farther away, who hadn’t seen what happened, heard a shrill scream flash and vanish in midair.
It sounded like a pig being slaughtered—or maybe like one of those old eunuchs from the end of the Qing dynasty, who got snipped one second and kicked out of the palace the next.
But most people, when they heard the scream and looked up, didn’t see anyone flying overhead.
“How is this possible!”
Zack Zhao stared, eyes locked tightly on Evan Lin.
Lewis Lu, standing just behind Evan Lin, was still in shock. He was closest and could really feel it—in the instant Evan Lin’s fist met the other guy’s, what looked like an ordinary punch suddenly burst out with terrifying, suffocating pressure.
That moment was so scary it left Lewis Lu shaken and tongue-tied, but he couldn’t even find the words to describe it.
He looked around, saw Brian Guang’s stiff face, and the pretty but unfamiliar face of May Xia.
Victor Xu plopped straight down on the ground, shivering all over, unable to process what had just happened.
“That’s him—the guy I told you about before. Back in Haizhou Leyang, he fought Lu Shouhai and even went toe-to-toe with savage beasts.”
Yvonne Zhu’s beautiful eyes flickered as she sighed.
She’d wanted to stop the fight—sure, Zack Zhao’s servant was tough, but compared to him, Yvonne Zhu still felt the youth from the Beast Arena was way scarier, way more unpredictable.
“That punch just now… sent the guy flying, didn’t it?”
“Did I see that right? The guy who got punched must’ve weighed over a hundred kilos!”
“Weight? Who cares about weight! That guy was clearly a Vajra-Realm expert! Just the force from his punches could break a normal person’s limbs—and this kid sent him flying with one hit. Is he even human?”
Someone who knew what was up was totally shocked.
More people heard this and looked stunned, their eyes on Evan Lin now filled with admiration.
Power rules here—the biggest fist is always right.
“Can’t even take one punch? Your guy’s pretty pathetic.”
Evan Lin glanced at Zack Zhao, standing there, and spoke calmly.
“You’ve got a death wish!”
Zack Zhao’s face changed instantly when he heard that.
“So what if your fists are hard and your strength is big? Don’t think you can do whatever you want! If you dare kill my man, you’d better be ready to pay the price!”
Zack Zhao clenched his fists, qi surging madly all over him, his clothes rippling.
A powerful wave of energy spread out from him, radiating in all directions.
His face, usually a bit soft, now looked so cold it could drip water, his eyes locked on Evan Lin.
“Do you know? This world isn’t just about fists and strength—you can’t win everything that way!”
Zack Zhao looked furious and full of pride, just about to step forward.
CLANG!
A clear bell and cauldron sound rang out across the whole manor.
The bell and cauldron were set up on an open square nearby. Someone had struck them, making a ringing, metallic sound.
“The tournament’s about to start!”
Hearing this, lots of people snapped back to reality and hurried over.
Most of them had come for the Moore Family Tournament.
No matter how wild things got here, nothing beat watching Southriver Sword Sect masters duel it out!
On the eighth day of the tournament, there’d definitely be Southriver Sword Sect versus Southriver Sword Sect matchups.
“The matches are starting!”
Yvonne Zhu grabbed Zack Zhao by the arm.
Hearing the bell, Zack Zhao’s expression shifted again and again. He glared at Evan Lin a few more times before snarling, “You got lucky! But this isn’t over between us!”
This Moore Family Tournament was a huge deal for Zack Zhao—he couldn’t afford any mistakes.
Winning Melissa Mu was one thing, but the real prize was the Sword Debt of the Moore Family. The Southriver Sword Sect had been eyeing it for ages—even if no one in the sect could draw it yet, they couldn’t just let outsiders get near it.
Zack Zhao took a deep breath, then hurried off with Yvonne Zhu.
Before leaving, Yvonne Zhu gave Evan Lin a long, meaningful look.
“Young heroes are born, huh.”
“Still, he’s pretty lucky—not only did he show off, the main thing is he didn’t have to actually fight Zack Zhao. That guy’s a Misty Rain Sword disciple. If they really threw down, it’d be way more than just fists flying.”
A few people walked past Evan Lin, still gossiping as they went.
Levels have highs and lows, strength has strong and weak, and Zack Zhao’s known as the Southriver Sword Sect’s little genius—his reputation shines bright. Even though Evan Lin sent Zack’s bodyguard flying with one punch, that can’t compare to the Sword Sect’s fame.
In the end, he’s just a pretty strong guy, that’s all.
“Just you wait!”
Brian Guang’s face was stormy. He grabbed May Xia and the others and hurried off with the crowd.
Lewis Lu looked pale and even coughed up blood—he wasn’t in good shape.
“Maybe we should just leave now,” Lewis Lu said to Evan Lin, his voice strained.
Lewis Lu looked at Evan Lin, his tone difficult. “If we follow them, it won’t just be Zack Zhao. Brian Guang’s brother and the others might all come after you.”
He coughed twice, tossed his black backpack to the ground, and the zipper burst open, spilling out a stack of white paper. Each sheet held a portrait—all of May Xia, every expression lively and vivid.
He’d meant them as a gift for May Xia.
Now, looking at them, Lewis Lu felt nothing but emptiness—his eyes were bleak.
“Go back if you want. I’ve still got things to do.”
Evan Lin shook his head, turned around, and strode off toward the gathering crowd.
Up ahead, in an open space, a lot of people were already gathered.
Among them, Martin Mu walked forward holding a dark case.
Over on the other side, Zack Guang and six others had already arrived.
Besides Zack Guang, Warren Wang, and Zack Zhao, there were four more, all standing quietly.
All four stood there, silent and composed.