I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

"You fucking want to die."

He waved his hand.

The four young thugs behind him moved at the same time.

Two men pulled short iron bars from their jackets, one pulled out a piece of lead pipe wrapped in cloth, and the last one clenched his fist.

The four people spread out in a fan shape and approached Evan from three directions.

With a physical constitution of 1.9 and the Night Demon Potion boosting their perception by 30%, these people moved as slowly as if they were swimming in water.

The first iron bar swung from the right, and Evan saw its trajectory, speed, and landing point.

He dodged to the side, and the iron bar grazed his ear as it slammed into the door frame, sending splinters of wood flying.

"Damn it! You owe me for my door frame!" Evan roared.

Repairing this hole will cost at least 8 cents!

As he spoke, he simultaneously threw out his right fist.

The fist struck the thug squarely in the jaw.

The power from his 1.9 physique was concentrated on a single fist. The thug's head snapped back, his eyes rolled back, and he fell straight backward like a plank of wood.

He slammed his head on the sofa with a dull thud, and the iron bar flew out of his hand, clattering and rolling into the living room.

The second thug swung a lead pipe down from the left.

Evan dodged to the side, and the lead pipe struck the spot where he had just been standing, leaving a dent in the wooden floor.

He raised his right foot and kicked the thug in the chest.

The immense force sent the man flying out of the room, crashing into the stairwell railing with a dangerous crack. He slid down the railing and fell to the ground, clutching his chest and curling up like a shrimp.

Before the remaining two could react, Ivan had already moved in front of them.

With his left hand, he grabbed a fist that someone was swinging at him, clenched his fingers, and twisted it forcefully.

A cracking sound came from his wrist joint, and the thug screamed and fell to his knees.

Evan released his grip and slammed his elbow into the back of the neck, causing the man to fall to the ground motionless.

The last one was so frightened that he turned and ran, but after only two steps, Evan caught up with him in a flash and kicked him in the lower back.

The person collapsed in the corridor, chin hitting the floor, a bloody tooth spitting out of their mouth.

It took less than ten seconds in total.

All four people fell to the ground.

Just as Ivan turned around, his extremely sensitive ears caught a faint sound.

The sound of metal rubbing together.

It was very light and short, but with the enhancement of the Night Demon Potion's perception, it was as clear as if it were right next to my ear.

That was the sound of the gun's safety being released.

Ivan's body reacted faster than his mind.

He leaped out of the door, braced his hands on the stair railing, flipped over, and landed on the platform half a floor below.

The sound of the boots landing was dull and steady, and the slight bend in the knees absorbed the impact.

Just as Zack drew his short-barreled revolver from his waist and before he could even raise the muzzle, Ivan had already disappeared around the corner of the stairs.

Ivan's voice came from downstairs, echoing in the empty stairwell, carrying a deliberate, provocative flippancy.

"A bunch of useless trash! Come down here if you dare!"

Zach gripped the gun, his hand, veins bulging, trembling slightly.

But he did not fire.

The nature of the matter completely changes when a shot is fired inside an apartment building.

The Gus gang can run rampant in this neighborhood because the police officers who have taken bribes turn a blind eye.

It's okay to beat someone up, it's okay to collect protection money, but breaking into a house and shooting someone will make the news.

If it makes the news, the city hall will have to send someone to investigate, and no one will have a good time if they do.

Zach had never been humiliated like this by a sickly person.

After shoving the gun back into his waistband, he kicked one of his men who was groaning on the ground.

"Get up! All of you, get up!"

"Go, call a few more people over here!"

His voice echoed in the stairwell, rough and menacing.

"I'm going to break both his legs today!"

Chapter 19: Terrifying Bad Luck, Overestimated Physique

Evan ran out of the apartment building with light steps, the cold wind blowing into his collar and making his shirt flutter.

He stood on the steps, looking at the dimly lit street illuminated by the streetlights.

The nights on Guding Street are as lively as ever.

The tavern was bathed in warm yellow light and the strains of an off-key accordion played as a street vendor hawked his last few bags of roasted chestnuts on a street corner.

Groups of workers staggered out of the tavern, helping each other as they moved toward home.

The Night Demon Potion's effects made his vision incredibly clear.

He could see not only the areas illuminated by streetlights, but also the dark corners where there were no lights.

Deep in the alley, a thief squatted behind a pile of garbage, counting the loose change he had just stolen, his lips moving silently.

On the fire escape of the building across the street, a young couple were pressed tightly together. The woman's skirt was lifted by the wind, but neither of them noticed.

At the far end of the dead end, a homeless man sat leaning against the wall, a hand-rolled cigarette in his hand. He took a puff and then tilted his head back to exhale a cloud of sweet white smoke into the night sky.

In his eyes, the whole street seemed as if a curtain had been lifted, exposing everything hidden in the dark folds.

"Tonight is my time to shine. In that case, I'll have some fun with them."

"I'd better take advantage of this opportunity to convince them that I am also a superhuman."

"This will reduce a lot of trouble in the future."

Thinking of this, Ivan turned to look at the entrance of the shoe repair shop downstairs.

Old Tom hadn't closed up shop yet. He sat on a low stool, using the kerosene lamp light shining from the shop to sew the last few stitches on a boot.

He had clearly heard the commotion upstairs: the sounds of fighting, screams, and Zack's curses. In this old building with virtually no soundproofing, every sound was crystal clear.

But the old man didn't look up, didn't look around, and didn't even change the rhythm of his stitching.

Those who have lived their whole lives on Guding Street know when to play dumb.

"Old Tom, if Zack can't find me later, just say I went to the old factory in the south suburbs."

Ivan lowered his voice as he finished speaking.

Fearing that Zach wouldn't be able to find him, he smashed up the apartment in a fit of impotent rage.

As for whether the other party might both beat him up and smash his house, Evan had considered the possibility, but the probability was very low.

In Zach and Mary's minds, the apartment was already theirs, and they only needed to wait for Evan to breathe his last before they could own it.

They don't need to damage their future assets just to vent their anger.

Old Tom paused his stitching for a moment.

He didn't look up, but simply lowered his eyes and nodded slightly.

"it is good."

One word: no more questions, no more words.

Evan turned around, took off running, and started running against the cold November wind.

The sound of boots clicking on the cobblestones quickly faded into the distance, swallowed up by the night wind and the noise of the tavern.

A dozen seconds later, Zach walked out of the apartment building with a gloomy expression.

He looked around; the street was bustling with people, but there was no sign of Ivan.

That sickly fellow ran faster than a rabbit and had long since disappeared into the night.

"He said he went to the old factory in the southern suburbs."

Old Tom's voice came from across the street, not too loud, not too soft, just loud enough for Zach to hear.

The old man still didn't look up, his needle and thread continuing to pierce the leather of the boots with a steady rhythm.

Zach glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

He clenched his teeth, and the snake tattoo on his neck twisted slightly with the throbbing of his jaw muscles.

"This skinny guy, I think he's gone crazy from taking drugs."

The Guz gang has deep-rooted influence in this neighborhood.

The dingy little clinic in the dockside area that introduced Ivan to the drug trial was also one of their businesses.

They knew everything about Ivan: what he had done, what drugs he had taken, and how many times he had sold his blood.

"Today I must send you to hell."

Zach beckoned to his men, and the group marched south down the street, their boots clattering on the stone floor like a pack of vicious dogs unleashed from their cages.

After they left, the street returned to a brief period of calm.

In the dark alley across from the apartment building, a figure leaned against the wall, motionless.

He was an ordinary-looking young man, wearing a dark work jacket with the brim of his hat pulled low.

A faint, dark red glint flashed in his eyes in the shadows, like two cigarette butts about to go out.

"What is this guy trying to do?"