The red sports car roared away, leaving Lin Hai standing alone on an overpass between skyscrapers.
He couldn't help but recall Lin Wei's parting sneer—"What's it feel like to get beat in a mech like a dog running for its life?"—and let out a bitter smile. Deep inside, he still felt a faint trace of regret. If he had just been given more time to familiarize himself with the Short Sword mech…
Who's to say he wouldn't have won?
The city's traffic wound above and below him, complex and layered like a labyrinth in steel and glass.
But Lin Hai didn't get lost.
On Haizhou Star, the junk heaps changed shape every few days—reshaped by nature and the garbage freighters that dumped refuse from orbit. Navigating home through mountains of trash and sandstorms taught him more about orientation than any GPS ever could. Compared to that, this shining, manicured city was like a work of art.
He had memorized the route on the way here in Lin Wei's car. A quick mental calculation told him the walk back to the Lin estate was at least twenty-seven kilometers.
Coming from the slums, Lin Hai didn't even consider hailing a cab. Even if he knew what it was, he had no money in his pocket—and he wasn't going to show up at the Lin estate like a beggar asking the family to pay his fare.
So he ran.
With the sun glowing low on the horizon, casting its slanted rays across the city, Lin Hai ran—twenty-seven kilometers—toward the estate, toward his new "home."
He liked the fresh air of Riverbank Star, the fashionable girls on the sidewalks, the warm sunlight, the towering high-rises, and the crowds of professionals bustling about.
In a world so alive, he could pretend he wasn't from that garbage-strewn hell of a planet.
But as he turned down a quiet lane, something changed.
A car pulled in front of him. Then another behind. A third boxed him in.
Three vehicles formed a crescent around the path—blocking off this little leaf-strewn road.
Lin Hai's steps slowed.
He wasn't sure who he had offended. At the training club, he'd kept a low profile, and he had made sure no one had followed him.
Which left only one possibility…
He narrowed his eyes as the luxury car doors opened, and a group of young men stepped out. Their expressions were unfriendly.
One of them opened a trunk and took out a baseball bat.
"Are you sure about this?" someone murmured. "Using a bat? It might be hard to control how hard we hit…"
"Even if he's a bastard, he's still Lin Hao's older brother… if we go too far, it might backfire."
"We're just giving him a scare," said another. "Lin Hao made it clear—don't draw blood, don't leave visible marks. Just teach him to stay in his place. But we're not going to embarrass ourselves either. He needs to understand that here, on Riverbank Star, a bastard like him should learn humility. We're not here to make friends—we're here to send a message."
A final voice cut in, venomous: "He's just a mangy wolf from the slums. We'll break him until he's a house pet."
At the corner of the street, hidden behind another vehicle, two people watched.
Lin Hao. And beside him, a pale-skinned youth named Zhang Mo.
"Why are they bringing bats? It's just one guy…" Lin Hao said, frowning.
Zhang Mo waved him off. "Relax, Lin-shao. You think they're gonna bash his head in? No way. Your boys are just venting for you. After what he did at the family meeting—slapping you in front of everyone—you really want to let that slide? Look, they'll be careful. You'll see."
Lin Hao clenched his jaw. The memory of his throat being grabbed, the burning sting of the slap, made his face twitch involuntarily. Though his upbringing had been strict, it hadn't robbed him of the pride of being a lord's heir.
His hands curled into fists as he watched the seven-man crew slowly surround Lin Hai.
Back on the road, Lin Hai stood his ground, staring at the gang.
So brazen. So public. As if they weren't afraid of anything.
Of course. He was a bastard. His name held no weight. No one in the Lin family would stand up for him.
The one with the bat—Nan Zi—grinned coldly.
"There's an old Imperial saying: 'Where there are people, there is conflict.' You're new here. Don't even know why we're doing this. That's because you don't understand how things work on Riverbank Star."
He raised the bat.
"Don't worry—we'll be careful. I'll knock out the teeth on your left side. Your right cheek? Untouched. We're just doing a job."
The others cracked their knuckles. Some of them were active-duty soldiers—no doubt Lin Hai was strong, but seven well-trained fighters versus one? This wasn't a fight—it was a beatdown.
Nan Zi's speech, the menacing posturing, the threatening gestures—all of it was to break Lin Hai mentally before striking.
And it should have worked.
They expected fear. Panic. At least a flicker of hesitation.
But Lin Hai didn't flinch. Not once.
Nothing in his expression changed—not a twitch of his eye or a shift in posture.
He simply… watched.
Was he an idiot? Did he just not understand fear?
If he was the reckless type to fight to the death, maybe the baseball bat was justified.
But worst case, they also had stun batons tucked at their waists—just in case.
No matter what this street rat did, he had no escape.
These weren't nobodies. They were heirs to noble houses from Sector One. Each of them had background, influence, and connections. The kind of people others knew better than to provoke.
And they weren't even masked. They didn't care if Lin Hai recognized them afterward.
So what? A bastard wasn't going to do anything to them. Even if they saw him again, what would he do—glare?
That's when it happened.
As the group closed in, Lin Hai suddenly stepped forward—not back.
His gaze fixed on something behind Nan Zi, brow slightly furrowing. His voice held a trace of surprise.
"…Lin Wei?"
Everyone froze for a second.
A fake-out? Probably.
But something in his tone and the way he stared—so direct, so focused—planted a seed of doubt.
"…Lin Wei?" one of the others echoed.
"Wait, did he just say… 'Sis Wei'?"
Nan Zi couldn't help it. He turned to look—just in case.
The others followed his gaze. The path was empty, save for some drifting leaves.
"You little—" Nan Zi turned back, eyes blazing.
But Lin Hai was gone.
Gone.
Vanished.
In the instant they looked away, he had slipped into their formation and disappeared.
Even Lin Hao and Zhang Mo, watching from a distance, were stunned.
One moment, Lin Hai had been there. Then—he wasn't.
He'd crouched, ducked, and slipped through their ranks like a shadow vanishing into fog.
They had faced street brawlers, arrogant punks, even seasoned veterans from the military zones.
But never—never—had they faced someone like this.
Someone who didn't fight back.
He ran.
He slipped away like a slick eel, a fish diving into the deep.
And in that moment, with the wind swirling and the silence deafening,
they were all left stunned—utterly disoriented—by the chaos he left in his wake.
The bastard from the slums…
Truly, a cunning little demon.