The green evolution glow above them grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the face of the Saint?tier evolver.

  He was a strikingly handsome middle?aged man—

  but his hair was a chaotic explosion of neon colors, a wild punk?rock afro that completely destroyed any sense of dignity he might have had.

  That ridiculous look matched perfectly with the mysterious powerhouse from Liam Zhao’s inherited memories.

  Evan instantly understood—

  This Saint?tier clown was really here for him.

  The moment they faced him directly, an instinctive fear surged through their bodies—

  the suppression of a higher lifeform.

  “Evolution glow can pierce the darkness!” Wendy Lewis reminded them.

  Everyone reacted immediately.

  The Saint?tier man was using his own evolution glow to illuminate himself, so they tried the same.

  A moment later, red, orange, and yellow halos flickered to life around them.

  “It works… but barely.”

  Their glows only lit a tiny circle around their feet.

  Even Yvonne Hart’s yellow glow illuminated barely half a meter.

  But in this darkness that devoured all light and perception, even that tiny halo was precious.

  Yvonne inhaled deeply and looked up at the Saint?tier man.

  “Who are you? Why trap us here?”

  Evan stepped forward, releasing Wendy’s hand.

  “Yvonne… he’s here for me.”

  There was no point hiding anymore.

  They had already survived the worst part of the journey—

  and now, because of him, they were in danger again.

  Everyone turned to stare at him, confused.

  How could a Chrysalis?tier kid provoke a Saint?tier monster?

  But before anyone could speak—

  The Saint?tier man suddenly clapped and laughed, eyes locking onto Evan.

  “Well, well! Didn’t expect to find you here too.

  Looks like I’m getting a two?for?one special!”

  Evan froze.

  …What?

  So he wasn’t the main target?

  He was just a bonus?

  Even at death’s door, Evan felt a stab of embarrassment.

  If he had the burrowing skill of a Ground Mole, he’d dig himself a three?bedroom apartment right now.

  But that raised a question—

  If not him, then who?

  The answer came immediately.

  The Saint?tier man turned toward Wendy Lewis, bowed with exaggerated elegance, and said:

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  “Dr. Lewis, I’m here to invite you to join our organization.

  We’re very sincere.

  If you agree, you’ll be appointed as a department director in our research division.

  Better treatment than anywhere else.”

  Before Wendy could respond, Evan cut in:

  “Uncle, you say you’re sincere, but you won’t even tell us your organization’s name? That’s not very convincing.”

  Evan only knew the mysterious group by one trait—their stench.

  He didn’t even know what they called themselves.

  The Saint?tier man chuckled.

  “My apologies.

  I am Elder Quentin Vilewind, of the Filthsoil Organization.”

  Evan glanced at his rainbow afro.

  Filthsoil? Are you sure it’s not the Emo Hair Clan?

  Wendy finally spoke:

  “Elder Quentin, what if I refuse?”

  Quentin Vilewind smiled politely.

  “That’s fine. Forced cooperation is meaningless.

  But my mission is to obtain your formula.

  To verify its authenticity, I must invite you to our headquarters as a guest.

  Once the results are confirmed, you’ll be free to leave.”

  Yvonne stepped forward.

  “We fled from Gu’an Nation to protect that formula.

  Many comrades died along the way.

  Do you really think we’ll hand it over?”

  Quentin’s smile faded.

  “That’s not for you to decide, old woman.”

  He turned back to Wendy.

  “Dr. Lewis, your answer?”

  Wendy shook her head firmly.

  “I refused to give the formula to Gu’an Nation because I feared it would fall into the wrong hands.

  I will not give it to you either.

  Even if you kill me, I won’t speak.”

  Evan looked at her.

  The gentle, elegant woman he’d traveled with now radiated a calm, unshakable resolve.

  He finally understood the full picture.

  Wendy held a formula of immense importance—

  so important that she had been hunted across nations.

  So important that countless protectors had died for her.

  Only Yvonne remained.

  And now, the Filthsoil Organization wanted it too—

  enough to send a Saint?tier elder.

  Quentin sighed.

  “A pity.

  Then I must offend you.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  A gust of wind swept through the darkness.

  Something was approaching.

  They could only see ten centimeters around themselves.

  Anything beyond that was unknown—

  and the unknown was terrifying.

  The hunters huddled together, trembling with regret.

  They should’ve left when they had the chance.

  Suddenly—

  A shadow slid into their tiny circle of light.

  Too fast to react.

  Two massive shadowy hands emerged—

  one grabbed Wendy,

  the other grabbed Evan.

  Both were dragged into the darkness.

  Evan struggled desperately—

  but the shadowy grip was soft yet unbreakable.

  Wendy might survive as a hostage.

  But him?

  The Filthsoil Organization only wanted to turn him into an extract.

  No matter how he fought—

  even using his Charging Horn skill—

  he couldn’t break free.

  Yvonne lunged after them—

  but something blocked her path.

  She turned and charged straight at Quentin Vilewind.

  A Butterfly?tier against a Saint?tier.

  A hopeless battle.

  But she charged anyway.

  Quentin sighed.

  “Loyal… but foolish.”

  A black dagger materialized in his hand.

  He thrust it toward her—

  And Yvonne ripped the red string from her neck, revealing the pendant hidden beneath her collar.

  An eye.

  A glowing cyan eye.

  A Tier?5 relic.

  The Dreamweaver’s Eye.

  A Saint?tier elder.

  A stolen formula.

  A Tier?5 relic revealed at the last second.

  This isn’t a battle anymore — it’s a clash of worlds.

  If you were Evan, what would you think the moment that cyan eye opened?