Feng Lin, wiping the blood from the corner of his lips, stepped back slightly, adjusting his stance. The direct confrontation had failed. His opponent, a cultivator at the early third stage of Body Refining, was simply too powerful.


    The enemy, a man with harsh features and a piercing gaze, did not lower his guard. His oppressive aura filled the empty alley. He glanced at Zhou Han, still frozen in fear a few meters away.


    "Give me the ring, and maybe I''ll spare your life." His voice was calm, confident, as if he were stating a simple formality.


    Feng Lin, panting, forced a bitter smile. "Are you sure he has it?"


    The enemy frowned. "Don''t play with me. I know he stole it."


    "Stolen, yes... but who says he still has it on him?" Feng Lin took a step aside, positioning himself slightly in front of Zhou Han as if to protect him. "You saw the state he was in when he got here. If it were him, why would he have run like a scared rabbit instead of defending himself?"


    The enemy hesitated for a moment, scanning Feng Lin and Zhou Han. A good fighter never underestimated an opponent, and Feng Lin didn’t look like just a weak mortal.


    "Interesting," murmured the man. "If it’s not him, then it’s you."


    Feng Lin chuckled lightly. "You overestimate me. If I had it, I would have run off a long time ago. Yet, here I am, talking to you."


    The enemy remained silent, analyzing each word. He knew the tactics of weaklings trying to buy time, but he couldn’t ignore a possibility: what if the ring had already passed hands?


    It was then that Feng Lin decided to play his trump card. He exchanged a quick glance with Liang, who immediately understood. Without a word, Liang moved discreetly to the side, pretending fear and hesitation.


    The enemy noticed the movement and shifted his stance slightly, ready to react.


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    Feng Lin took advantage of this brief distraction. He picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at the enemy. The man, reflexively, swatted it aside with a backhand. That was enough.


    With a leap, Liang propelled himself toward the enemy’s side and attempted a quick strike at his flank. The man, responsive, turned just in time to block the attack, but Feng Lin was already on him. Using his speed, he targeted a vulnerable point – the knee.


    The enemy grunted under the impact, briefly losing his balance. That was the opening Feng Lin had been waiting for. Without wasting a moment, he struck a palm toward the man’s throat, a vicious blow aimed at choking him.


    The enemy, though experienced, couldn’t completely dodge. He staggered back, gasping slightly, one hand on his throat.


    "Nice shot..." he growled, his voice hoarse. "But it’s not enough to beat me."


    Feng Lin smirked. "I know."


    His gaze slid toward Zhou Han, who was watching the scene, frozen between fear and hope. The enemy wouldn’t leave as long as he thought the ring was here. Feng Lin intended to use that to his advantage to turn the tide once and for all.


    Zhou Han furrowed his brows, confusion on his face. Feng Lin claimed not to have the ring, but then... where was it? He was certain he had seen him take it.


    A doubt crept into his mind. Feng Lin might not be fast enough to flee with it, or perhaps… he was playing a more complex game. Zhou Han hesitated, watching the enemy whose gaze remained fixed on him. The pursuer wouldn’t leave as long as he thought the ring was in his possession.


    Feng Lin, for his part, wore a slight smirk, as if enjoying the situation.


    The enemy didn’t move, his eyes shifting from Feng Lin to Zhou Han. His instincts whispered that something was wrong. Feng Lin seemed too calm, despite the disadvantageous situation.


    "Stop your games, kid!" he snarled. "Give me the ring and maybe I’ll let you live."


    Feng Lin smiled slightly.


    "If you think I have it, come and take it."


    He adopted a defensive posture, ready to dodge. The enemy didn’t take the bait and advanced cautiously. He knew Feng Lin wasn’t strong enough to face him head-on, but something about his demeanor unsettled him.


    Suddenly, Feng Lin stepped back, drawing the enemy into a narrower part of the alley. Liang, until then motionless, tensed. He had understood Feng Lin’s plan.


    The enemy feigned an attack, but at the last moment, he faked and withdrew sharply, testing Feng Lin’s reaction. He wasn’t about to fall for a trap that easily.


    "You think I’m an idiot?"


    His aura exploded suddenly, exerting an overwhelming pressure. He intended to finish this fight immediately.


    Feng Lin, still smiling, threw a quick glance at Zhou Han, who seemed on the verge of panicking.


    "In that case… show me if you’re capable of taking this ring by force!" Feng Lin called out.


    The enemy, exasperated, charged violently.


    Feng Lin tried to dodge by leaping to the side, but the opponent was far too fast. A punch charged with aura came down on him before he could reposition. The impact exploded through his guard, shredding his raised arms as if they were mere paper.


    A searing shock ran through his torso, sending him flying backward. He slammed violently into the cobblestone ground, rolling several meters before coming to a stop. A dull ache flooded his entire body. He tried to breathe, but a metallic taste filled his mouth.


    The enemy didn’t give him a moment’s respite. Taking advantage of his position, he leaped forward and slammed his foot down on Feng Lin’s back, pinning him hard to the ground.


    "Where’s the ring?!"


    Feng Lin gritted his teeth, feeling an overwhelming pressure crushing his spine. His fingers trembled from the pain, but he knew that giving up now meant death.