Chapter 53: My Name Is Justice

That towering figure was Chen Xian. He looked down at his body and realized he was completely unharmed. Red vortices spun furiously across his form, pouring vast amounts of crimson energy into his physique, coursing through his meridians, and finally converging within the translucent, gray, monstrous tree in his mind.

Chen Xian noticed the mysterious tree quickly turning red and solidifying, filling him with joy; the corners of his lips unconsciously curved into a smile. The energy from the grenade’s explosion far surpassed that of machine guns and other firearms. If he could endure a few dozen more grenade blasts, it might truly allow the seventh mysterious fruit to fully coalesce.

As he eagerly pondered this, Chen Xian sprinted toward the taxi. In a matter of seconds, he covered the dozens of meters, yanked open the passenger door, and slid in.

“Stop daydreaming, drive now! Otherwise, the robbers will get away!” Chen Xian urged, patting the wide-eyed driver.

The chubby driver snapped out of his shock, nodded heavily, and slammed the accelerator. The battered taxi roared after the SUV.

Chen Xian glanced back at the explosion site in the fields. Aside from his own footprints, the vegetation remained untouched.

“It must be those red, mysterious vortices—they absorbed all the energy from the grenade explosions, sparing the fields any damage,” he mused.

Several hundred meters ahead, inside the SUV—

“Boss Biao, that young man with the cropped hair isn’t dead! He walked out alive from the grenade blast!” one robber stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief and terror.

“Damn it! What’s going on?!” Boss Biao cursed, glancing backward.

No one answered him; nobody understood what had happened, except Chen Xian.

Seeing no other option, Boss Biao floored the gas, hoping to lose that uncanny young man.

“Boss Biao, they’re getting closer! What should we do?”

“Keep shooting! Throw more grenades at him!” Boss Biao snarled through gritted teeth.

He knew neither bullets nor grenades could harm the man, but those were the only weapons left at their disposal.

Twenty minutes later—

“Boss Biao, we’re out of bullets!”

“Boss Biao, we’re out of grenades too!”

“Boss Biao, that young man is catching up! What do we do now?”

Boss Biao’s face darkened with uncertainty.

Boom!

A heavy thud sounded from the roof.

Boss Biao knew instantly—it was the young man with the cropped hair, jumping onto their car.

He frantically steered left and right, trying to shake Chen Xian off, but it was futile.

“Stop the car and surrender immediately. I may spare your lives!” Chen Xian commanded.

He could have subdued these ruthless criminals long ago, but he had delayed, wanting to absorb the energy from their weapons and grenades. Now that they were out of ammunition and had no further value to him, Chen Xian decided to end it.

“Screw you! If you want me to surrender, forget it!” Boss Biao roared, still speeding ahead.

Bang!

Suddenly, the cropped-haired head appeared outside the windshield, accompanied by a massive fist that smashed through the thick glass and struck Boss Biao squarely in the face.

A guttural scream burst from Boss Biao. Blood streamed down his face; several teeth were knocked out, and his vision blurred.

The SUV, now out of control, careened into a roadside ditch, tires exploding, the hood smoking furiously.

“I—damn you! Who are you? Dare to challenge the Hungry Wolf Mercenary Group—you’ll regret it!” Boss Biao shouted, his face twisted with rage.

Chen Xian slipped into the vehicle, unharmed, and grinned. “Remember this—I am Justice.”

With swift, practiced movements, he knocked out Boss Biao and the other three robbers, tied them tightly with ropes found in the car, and wiped their memories of him from their minds.

He had held back with that punch; otherwise, Boss Biao’s head would have burst like a watermelon.

As for the metal box containing the stolen bank money, he didn’t touch a single note.

A gentleman takes wealth by rightful means.

Chen Xian had his principles.

Having finished, Chen Xian jumped out of the car and approached the taxi driver, noticing the worn, off-brand sneakers on his feet—a sign of hard times.

From his storage ring, Chen Xian drew out a stack of cash and handed it over. “This is for you to buy a new car. Take it.”

Then, he lightly brushed the driver’s head, erasing all memories related to himself except for the repair money, including his appearance.

To avoid causing mental trauma, Chen Xian used a trace of his spiritual power to seal the memories.

The driver fainted temporarily.

With everything settled, Chen Xian strode off, moving at an extraordinary speed toward a particular direction—the one where Unit 001 was located, specifically where Fang Jing was pursuing another group of thieves.

As he ran, he examined the mysterious tree in his mind, a smile playing on his lips.

The entire tree was now blazing red, and the seventh fruit was one-third solidified and crimson.

“As soon as I absorb the energy from the other robbers’ firearms, the seventh fruit should fully coalesce!”

“I wonder, what wonders will the seventh fruit bring me?” Chen Xian mused with anticipation.

Three minutes after he left, piercing sirens echoed across the outskirts. Over a dozen police cars arrived at the scene of the SUV crash.

The police found only the crashed SUV, four robbers bound tightly like dumplings, a bullet-riddled taxi, and its unconscious driver. No other vehicles or people were present.

They were baffled: who had subdued these robbers? The taxi driver? But it didn’t seem likely.

Though they had no answers, at least the robbers and the stolen bank money were recovered.

...

Elsewhere in City H, on a suburban road—

Bang bang bang!

Gunfire erupted in rapid succession.

A bullet-ridden Mercedes SUV and a black, high-performance off-roader, one ahead and one behind, raced furiously, exchanging shots.

The police cars had been left far behind and would not catch up any time soon.

Inside the Mercedes, Fang Jing’s once-beautiful face was streaked with blood, her eyes aflame with murderous intent. One hand gripped the wheel, the other a gun—her presence fierce and formidable.

She maneuvered skillfully, evading enemy bullets while firing back at the robbers.

Beside her, in the passenger seat, a police officer lay dead, his chest riddled with bullets, blood soaking the seat.

A desperate scream rang out.

Ahead, in the SUV, a masked robber took a bullet to the head. Crimson blood poured down his forehead, as if a red blade had split his skull in two.

“Ahe!” the gang leader, driving the vehicle, cried out in anguish.

Ahe was his closest brother, a companion through years of life and death. Though not related by blood, their bond surpassed that of siblings.

“Damn the police! Blow them up! I want them torn to pieces!” the leader roared, consumed by fury at his brother’s death.

Another robber shouted, “Boss, we’re out of grenades! Only one rocket remains—it was meant for the police helicopter! Do we use it?”

PS: Third update. Friends, please recommend, bookmark, and rate... There will be a fourth update tonight~