Shang Jiao's brows drew tight, her expression shifting from confusion to suspicion to… warning.
Something about the youth clawed at her instincts. A prickle crept up her neck, the unmistakable sensation of danger.
Yet the boy looked harmless, too young, too composed.
Why… does he feel more dangerous than Chang Bo?
Her fingers tightened on her sword. That sixth sense, every seasoned fighter's life-saving intuition, quietly screamed at her.
But before she could think further, one of her men pointed suddenly.
"Leader! Chang Bo, he's heading straight for that boy!"
Shang Jiao's expression snapped into alarm.
Chang Bo burst from the shadows like a wounded beast scenting opportunity, his blood-soaked figure barreling toward Ryan. The bearded man's scar split grotesquely as he grinned, hand stretching forward like a claw.
He wanted a hostage, a disposable one.
"Not good!" Shang Jiao shouted. "That man is Chang Bo, wanted by Heavenly Cold City! He's a one-star Upper Elite-realm expert and has killed countless people, little brother, run!"
Her voice rang sharply across the clearing.
Ryan… didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even lift a brow.
He looked mildly irritated, like someone whose meditation had just been disrupted by an annoying mosquito.
"What the, why isn't he moving?" one mercenary said.
"Is he frozen?"
"Or just stupid?"
"He's just standing there! Is he tired of living?"
Several conclusions flew through the mercenary group, none flattering.
Shang Jiao felt her teeth grind. "Little brother! MOVE! Just a step! Hold on until we reach you, we'll protect you!"
Still, Ryan remained exactly where he stood.
No fear. No astonishment. Not even a reaction to being yelled at.
It made no sense.
And then,
"Heh!" Chang Bo's mouth curled wider, triumph twisting his face. His hand shot out, claws splayed, ready to seize Ryan's throat.
He was already imagining how he'd use this boy's life to shake the mercenaries. How Shang Jiao's expression would twist when she saw him tear out the boy's throat. How his reinforcements would arrive, surround the six pests, and finally...
"Huh?"
His hand closed on air.
Ryan's figure… shattered.
Four blurred silhouettes rippled like phantoms, all shifting in unison, slipping through his grasp with ghost-like ease.
Chang Bo's pupils shrank.
"W-what…"
He blinked hard. Once. Twice.
The boy… had moved.
But not by stepping. Not by ducking.
By simply vanishing from where he stood.
It wasn't an illusion.
It was speed.
Real speed.
"What technique… was that?" he muttered.
Even the Red Scorpion mercenaries froze mid-step.
"Did he just… split into four?"
"That's not normal movement!"
"Could it be… a body technique?"
Shang Jiao's lips parted, her eyes widening with a shock reserved only for the truly unbelievable.
High-level movement technique…?
The way Ryan multiplied into four indistinct shadows, the subtle twist in his footwork, the seamless, effortless shift, it wasn't something ordinary warriors could accomplish. Not something teenagers could even dream of.
"That's… that's not a yellow-rank technique," Shang Jiao whispered. "At minimum… Earth-rank. Or, no, wait, this fluidity, the speed… could it be higher?"
Her breath hitched.
Only a handful of noble clans taught high-tier movement arts.
And even then, masters have trained for years to achieve even basic proficiency.
But that boy....
He moved like he was born doing it.
Chang Bo's expression slowly morphed, from triumph…
to disbelief…
to something uglier.
Fear.
"This brat, what kind of technique was THAT?!"
He had planned to clamp a hand on a helpless child.
Instead, his prey slipped through his fingers like smoke, mocking him.
Behind him, Shang Jiao's group stared at the young man as if seeing a spirit.
The mercenary who'd called Ryan "stupid" earlier swallowed hard, his voice croaking: "leader… I don't think he's stupid."
Another muttered, "I… think we're the stupid ones."
Chang Bo's face twisted in rage.
How dare this boy avoid his grasp?
How dare he make him look a fool?
He bared his teeth.
"You damn brat, think you can play tricks with me?! Let's see you dodge THIS!"
He lunged again.
But this time, Ryan turned his eyes toward him.
Not hurriedly.
Not fearfully.
Almost lazily.
And Chang Bo felt his chest tighten.
Those weren't the eyes of a frightened youth.
They were the eyes… of a predator noticing a bug.
Chang Bo's fingers sliced through the air a second time, fiercer than before. The wind shrieked under the force of that grab.
Yet Ryan…
He moved like drifting mist.
Four shadows blurred outward again.
A single slip of his foot, light as a feather, precise as a blade, carried him right past Chang Bo's reach.
Chang Bo's fingers snapped shut on emptiness.
Again.
And this time, the boy didn't even bother stepping back. He stood upright, hands loose at his sides, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Mocking.
Or worse, bored.
Chang Bo felt heat rush to his face. "Looking for death!"
He lunged again, rage swelling hot in his chest.
But the boy's smile only deepened.
This kid is strange… too strange.
Two evasions, smooth, effortless, no tension in the muscles, no panic in the eyes.
The boy wasn't "avoiding." He was walking around Chang Bo's attacks like they were nothing more than inconveniences.
A cold whisper climbed Chang Bo's spine. "Boy… who are you?" he growled.
For the first time, fear crept into the murderer's voice.
On the Holy Mystic Continent, when strength couldn't suppress someone… It meant your life was no longer in your own hands.
Ryan shrugged lightly. "Who I am doesn't matter," he said, voice calm as lake water. "What matters is, you shouldn't have come to bother me."
He tilted his head, as though trying to understand how a mosquito had wandered into his path.
Chang Bo's pupils shrank.
He's not scared? No, worse, he thinks I'm beneath him!
That brief flare of humiliation twisted his gut, but Chang Bo smothered it behind a mask of false apology.
"Little brother," he suddenly said, face switching to remorse as fast as flipping a page, "I… may have misunderstood. That earlier strike was a mistake. I thought you were with those killers chasing me. They're evil, shameless mercenaries, murderers, the lot of them!"
Ryan stared at him calmly
Chang Bo plowed on, desperate. "I swear I'm no villain. I'm with the Wolf Sky Mercenary Corps, a force of justice! I was framed, you see..."
At that, he pulled out a gold badge, gleaming brightly even in the dark.
A wolf's head is engraved in fine detail.
The Red Scorpion mercenaries behind Shang Jiao stiffened.
"Gold…? That's a high-rank mercenary badge."
"And Wolf Sky's reputation is extremely good…"
"Could he… actually be telling the truth…?"
For a second, even Shang Jiao wavered.
Chang Bo's grin widened. He pointed dramatically at the Red Scorpion members.
"They're the wicked ones! Spoiled children from powerful families. Framed me, murdered my companions! Little brother, join me, we'll wipe out these parasites and restore peace!"
The Red Scorpion mercenaries trembled with rage, teeth grinding, but none dared to attack, not yet.
If the boy believed Chang Bo, they would be slaughtered between two enemies.
Shang Jiao stepped forward, voice tight with anger. "Don't listen to him! He's wanted by Heavenly Cold City, a murderer with a bounty higher than most villains! Four of our brothers died at his hands!"
Chang Bo scoffed, eyes gleaming wickedly. "Where's your proof? Hm? If I'm lying, then show it!"
"You..." Shang Jiao nearly choked from fury.
Chang Bo pressed on, pretending sorrow: "Leader Shang is beautiful but… vicious. She killed my companions; now she blames me. That's a talent I could never match."
Her face flushed red, brows sharp as blades.
The Red Scorpion mercenaries trembled with barely held fury.
Before they could erupt, a calm voice cut sharply between them.
"Enough."
Ryan lifted his hand, silencing both sides instantly.
"Who's right or wrong doesn't matter to me," he said. "Handle your own grudges. I'm not interested."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Shang Jiao exhaled, shoulders relaxing slightly. Although Ryan wouldn't help them, at least he wouldn't join hands with Chang Bo.
Chang Bo, however, felt his jaw tighten.
This boy, this arrogant brat, was dismissing him?
Him?
As if he didn't matter?
Ryan's indifference stung more than any insult.
But Chang Bo forced a smile, hiding the murderous glint in his eyes. "Very well. Since you will not help me eliminate them, I shall bear the burden myself. Even if it costs my life, tonight, Red Scorpion Mercenary Corps dies in the Forest of Death!"
He drew a short knife, stance ready, posture noble, as if he were some tragic hero fighting injustice.
Shang Jiao's voice rose like a blade's edge. "And we of the Red Scorpion Mercenary Corps will not leave a demon alive."
Ryan… simply sighed, already growing tired of the noise.