"You! What do you think you're doing!"
The bartender's face was twisted with terror as he stared at Evan Lin. Blood kept seeping down from the wounds on his head.
He'd never imagined he'd get smashed over the head with three bottles just for mouthing off in a bar.
The throbbing pain in his skull kept reminding him—this was all real!
"I'll ask you one last time. Where's the girl?"
Evan Lin's gaze was calm as he spoke, slowly tightening his grip.
The bartender's face turned from pale to red, then to a dark, liver-like shade as he struggled desperately—but it was useless.
Evan Lin's hand was like an iron vice, locking him in place.
"Let him go! Kid, are you looking to die?"
The commotion quickly drew a squad of burly bar security. They surged in from every direction, shoving through the crowd, each one charging straight at Evan Lin.
Evan Lin's eyes were cold and emotionless. He grabbed a bottle from the bar, smashed it hard against the counter, and exposed its jagged glass edge.
With his left hand, he dragged the bartender out from behind the bar; his right hand gripped the bottleneck tight.
Evan Lin charged straight into the wave of attackers.
Lynn Chen's face went pale. The crowd grew restless and anxious, their shouts mixing excitement and fear.
She watched the thin figure in front of her hoist the bartender and swing him at the incoming crowd.
In Evan Lin's grip, the bartender was like a giant weapon. Wherever Evan passed, someone dropped to the floor.
Every one of them had a thin line of blood across their necks.
But with the dim lights and all the shouting and cheering, nobody noticed the details.
To everyone watching, it looked like the security guards were just getting knocked down by the skinny kid.
One minute.
When Evan Lin finally stopped moving, every table within ten meters was overturned and not a single person was left standing.
He swung the bartender out with his left hand, tossing him hard against the bar. The man bounced back and rolled across the floor.
Evan Lin stepped forward, pinning the bartender's neck under his foot. "Three seconds. Where's the girl?"
"She... Liu Pang took her. To the Shengtian Grand Hotel..."
The bartender lay on the ground, face covered in blood. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black-clad thug beside him, eyes wide open but completely silent.
He recognized the man—Wolf. He'd just been hired recently, a former mercenary overseas who could punch through three meters of wood. Ruthless and vicious, he'd crippled three bar staff his first day for mouthing off.
Wolf was supposed to be a powerhouse, but now he was completely motionless. Even his eyes looked confused, as if he didn't understand how he died.
The bartender's will to resist was gone. All he wanted now was to survive.
He looked up, and all he saw were those cold, emotionless eyes.
"Thank you," Evan Lin said softly, then turned and walked toward the door.
At the same time, Evan Lin casually tossed the blood-stained bottleneck to the floor, flicked a tiny shard of glass behind him, and sent it slicing straight through the bartender's throat.
All that remained were the bartender's desperate, uncomprehending eyes.
But again, no one noticed. To everyone else, it just looked like the bartender got knocked out.
Suddenly, the air grew quiet. Evan Lin's face flickered in and out of view under the swirling, dim lights.
He didn't spare Lynn Chen a single glance, just walked straight out of the bar.
Lynn Chen stood frozen, her face deathly pale. The scenes she'd just witnessed kept crashing through her mind, leaving her completely stunned.
"You... you..." Lynn stared at Evan Lin as he walked out the door. After a moment, she snapped out of it and hurried after him.
She rushed outside to the curb, but Evan Lin's figure was already vanishing into the darkness, moving so fast she had no hope of catching up.
Just then, a van pulled up to the curb.
The door swung open and a cold-faced man stepped out, wearing a black trench coat. His squad of black-clad thugs rushed straight into the bar.
Victor Yu strode toward the Jade Orchid Bar. As he passed Lynn Chen, he paused for a split second, glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then walked on without stopping, leading his men inside.
"Bar's closed for the night! If you don't want trouble, get out—now!" Victor Yu barked as he pushed open the door. His men started clearing out the bystanders.
Shutting down trouble before the little fish even realized what was happening—that was Victor Yu's specialty, ever since his days cleaning up after Damon Wang.
He was a pro at this kind of thing.
Victor leaned against a table, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.
Soon, all the irrelevant guests were cleared out. The hostesses who'd been entertaining clients were locked in their rooms, not allowed to leave.
"Boss Yu, forty-three total. All... all dead." One of his men hurried over, head down, voice trembling with nerves.
Victor Yu fell silent. "Cause of death?"
"Every fatal wound was a single cut to the neck, straight through the artery. All died from blood loss. And..." The subordinate's voice turned strange.
"And what?" Victor Yu had seen plenty over the years, and while he still respected Damon Wang, there weren't many things in Brightsea that could truly shake him anymore.
"All the wounds were in exactly the same spot on every victim. The length and size of each cut were almost identical." The subordinate's eyes showed real fear.
Just what kind of person could make every wound exactly the same—and kill with a single strike every time?
Victor's fingers trembled slightly as he held his cigarette, ash falling to the floor.
He was silent for a long time before finally speaking: "Clean up the scene. Cover everything. Make sure every disappearance has a story—no loose ends."
Victor took a deep breath, feeling a chill run through his head.
His eyes grew distant, suddenly recalling another figure from years past.
A lone fighter, killing one man with every step.