Why Force Me to Take Action

Five burly men charged toward Qin Ran, their appearances unmistakably marking them as body cultivators. The leader, especially, was built like a bear, with a fierce and menacing expression, exuding an intimidating aura—standing there like a guardian deity.

In contrast, Qin Ran was slender and delicate, with refined features that made him look more like a scholar holding a brush than someone who knew how to fight.

The stark contrast between the two sides was striking. When the leader reached out to grab Qin Ran by the shoulder—

"Ooh…"

The ordinary islanders who had gathered around gasped in shock, their hearts filled with worry for Qin Ran.

But the next second—

"Smack!"

"Whoa!!"

The onlookers erupted in even louder exclamations!

There, in front of the furniture shop, the slender Qin Ran had effortlessly blocked the bear-like man’s hand with a single palm, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Then, with a twist of his wrist, Qin Ran precisely locked onto the man’s pressure point.

The burly man was brimming with brute strength, capable of overturning rivers and seas—yet no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t pull his hand free. Instead, his wrist ached sharply, forcing him to freeze in place.

The scene was almost comical—the towering man, half a head taller than Qin Ran, was now hunched over in pain, his wrist locked in Qin Ran’s grip, making him appear shorter.

Qin Ran’s fingers pressed firmly against the man’s wrist joint and acupoints, cutting off his qi and blood flow, rendering him powerless.

As an alchemist, Qin Ran had an intimate understanding of the human body’s pressure points and joints. That was why a single precise grip was enough to immobilize the man.

"If you have something to say, say it properly. Resorting to violence is just wrong," Qin Ran said with a smile, nodding amiably at the surrounding crowd. "We should strive for peace and harmony. Why resort to bloodshed?"

As he spoke, the other four men were already itching to rush forward and rescue their leader.

The two fingers gripping the man’s wrist felt like steel, the pain spreading until half his body began to numb.

Unable to break free, the man cursed inwardly—What kind of alchemist is this?!

He looked up at Qin Ran again, seeing only a delicate young man. The shopkeeper had clearly told them to capture an alchemist.

But how could an alchemist overpower him in a single move?

He was a second-tier body cultivator!

On Demon Island, he had few equals.

"Who the hell are you?!" he demanded.

Qin Ran twisted his wrist further, intensifying the pain. "Weren’t you the ones looking for me? Why ask who I am?"

Gritting his teeth, the man spat, "You’re no alchemist—you’re a body cultivator!"

"You don’t even know my true strength… So you have no idea who Li Feiyu really is?" Qin Ran shook his head, releasing the man’s arm. "Who sent you?"

"Hmph!"

The man rubbed his wrist, glaring furiously. "You don’t deserve to know!"

With that, he reached behind his back and drew a massive cleaver, swinging it straight at Qin Ran.

Seeing their leader draw his weapon, the other four quickly followed, unsheathing blades and swords as they charged.

"Why?!" Qin Ran’s face twisted in anguish as he watched the cleaver descend. "Why force me to fight?!"

"Ah, such a kind-hearted boy!" an elderly woman in the crowd sighed.

"This cruel world…" an old man muttered. "It always pushes good people to fight back."

The leader was a second-tier body cultivator—his slash could split mountains and shatter stones. Yet Qin Ran merely clenched his fist and met the blade head-on.

"Hah! No matter how strong you are, you dare face my blade with bare hands?!"

Enraged by Qin Ran’s apparent disregard, the man put all his strength into the strike, refusing to dodge or adjust his swing.

"Clang!"

A deafening impact rang out as fist met steel.

And then—

The cleaver shattered where Qin Ran’s fist had struck.

"What?!" The crowd gasped in disbelief. "Did I just see that?!"

"His flesh withstood a magical weapon—and the weapon broke?!"

"Who is that young man?!"

A fleeting, radiant glow had flashed across Qin Ran’s fist before the blade shattered. Without pause, he drove his punch forward, slamming into the man’s chest.

The force was overwhelming—the man was sent flying across the street, crashing through a shop’s wall and disappearing behind it.

With their leader knocked out in one punch, the remaining four men froze in shock.

But Qin Ran didn’t stop. His steps blurred as he closed the distance, fists clashing against blades. A series of metallic snaps later, their weapons lay broken, and each man was dealt several punches, sending them flying.

Two were embedded in walls, one followed their leader through the shop, and the last was planted headfirst into the stone street.

Standing in the center of the battlefield, surrounded by Demon Island’s residents, Qin Ran clenched his right fist with his left hand, his expression pained, as if he regretted having to hurt them.

"Why?" he asked again. "Why did you have to push me like this?"

The ragged onlookers pitied him—a kind young man forced to defend himself against street thugs, his heart surely tormented by the violence.

Unable to bear it, someone stepped forward. "Don’t torture yourself—run! The island lord’s guards are coming. If you don’t leave now, you’ll be jailed for fifteen days for street brawling."

"Ah, really?" Qin Ran snapped out of his thoughts. He quickly patted down the man buried in the street, retrieving an identity token from his pocket.

One side bore the character "Yuan."

"So it is the Yuan Organization?!" Qin Ran’s eyes narrowed. "Persistent bastards!"

He checked the others—all five carried the same tokens.

"You still aren’t leaving?" another urged.

Qin Ran glanced up—uniformed guards were pushing through the crowd toward him.

"Thank you all for the warning!" He cupped his hands in gratitude before slipping away into the throng.

By the time the guards arrived, only the Yuan Organization’s men remained—Qin Ran was long gone.

On the rocky shores of Demon Island, Qin Ran turned back, glaring at the distant city, teeth clenched.

"Chased off by the Yuan Organization again… Am I really as cowardly as my original self?"

"Yuan Organization… Just you wait, damn it."

Muttering curses, he dove into the sea and swam away, not daring to return—like a kid talking tough but running from a fight.

"I'm going back to help that cowardly main body secure a foothold, not because I'm afraid of you. Once I've set up the formation array on this deserted island..."

Muttering to himself, he swam back toward the divine sense imprint on the desolate island.