He didn't use technique; he used pure, vented frustration. He was a blur of white robes and blue light, appearing as the great Yama, who was pissed from eating something bad.
Crash. Bang. Thud.
Bodies flew, and screams echoed.
Ji'an stood back, shielding her eyes from the sun. Beside her, Gu Zhiwei watched with wide eyes.
"Brother Lin, your guard..." Gu Zhiwei whispered, trembling slightly. "He is... so terrifying."
"Yeah," Ji'an said, watching Wangchen kick a thug so hard he defied gravity. A proud smile tugged at her lips. "He's a bit grumpy today. Skipped his morning meditation."
'Go get 'em, Villain,' she cheered internally. 'Vent that stress. Better them than the Protagonist.'
Within moments, the path was clear. Wangchen stood amidst the groaning bodies, sheathed his sword, and turned back to Ji'an. His hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes bright and wild.
He walked up to her, ignoring the carnage behind him.
