With a furious roar, Matthew Perry grabbed the skinny man who hadn’t even had time to celebrate his success, twisted his arm behind his back, and pinned him to the ground. The shifty-eyed little thief tried to put up a last-ditch struggle, but was scared half to death by a single sentence.

“In broad daylight you dare to steal! According to the rules where I come from, thieves have a hand chopped off. Do you want your left hand or your right hand cut off?”

After the recent exchange, Eric Blake couldn’t help but think that Matthew Perry was a greenhorn who didn’t know anything. But now, seeing his serious expression and the genuine air of authority he exuded, she was stunned. He held the thief’s hand in a vice grip, his other hand on the curved blade at his waist, looking as if he might strike at any moment—and as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She grew even more puzzled.

Had she guessed wrong? How did he look anything like a criminal exiled to the Beiting Protectorate? He seemed more like a ruthless bandit...

While she was still caught between shock and suspicion, Matthew Perry’s right hand suddenly moved, and the curved blade at his waist flashed out, glinting coldly. The crowd erupted in commotion, and the skinny man instantly collapsed to the ground, stammering for mercy: “S-sir, please spare me! I-I’ll never dare do it again!”

Seeing the young man was serious, Eric Blake panicked. This was Luoyang, not Tingzhou—even if you caught a thief in the street, using such vigilante justice would cause trouble! Thinking this, she quickly grabbed Matthew Perry’s knife-wielding right hand. “Little Pei, he didn’t manage to steal anything anyway. At most, give him a beating, but you can’t chop off his hand.”

“No.”

To Eric Blake’s surprise, the young man who had just seemed so clueless now spoke with unyielding resolve: “My father once said, there are two kinds of thieves. The first are destitute, with no other way to survive—if they don’t steal, they’ll die. If you catch such a person, you can show mercy. The second make a living by stealing, living off others’ money, and never repent.”

He raised the skinny man’s hand high and declared, “This fellow may look scrawny, but he wears a gold ring and smells of meat. If he weren’t a habitual thief, how could he eat his fill every day? Not only that, look at the strength in his index and middle fingers—clearly an old hand at this. Who knows how many people he’s stolen from? If we don’t cut off this evil hand, even more honest folk will suffer!”

Catching thieves in the marketplace was nothing new, so at first the onlookers just wanted to watch the excitement. But when Matthew Perry actually drew his blade, they were all stunned.

So young, yet so ruthless?

But after hearing his speech, someone in the crowd shouted “Well said!” and soon cheers broke out all around. Many who had lost things in the southern market vented their anger on the unlucky thief. “He’s right—if you steal once to survive, that’s one thing, but a career thief deserves to lose his hand!”

As the crowd grew more and more agitated and Matthew Perry looked ready to strike at any moment, Eric Blake felt her head spinning. This young man had just been so easygoing—why was he suddenly so relentless, and so eloquent? Had she misjudged him, thinking he was simple, only to be tricked herself?

Just then, a loud shout rang out nearby: “Which blind little thief dares steal from my young master!”

The voice was so loud that even the noisy crowd couldn’t drown it out.

Eric Blake looked over in surprise and saw the trio they’d just met at the jewelry shop reappear together. The one shouting was the black-faced man with the feather fan. Running into them again was bad enough, but what shocked her most was what the black-faced youth had just called out.

My young master? So this seemingly clueless Matthew Perry was actually someone important?

Matthew Perry hadn’t expected the trio to show up at this moment, and his grip on the thief’s hand loosened. The sudden change delighted the skinny man, who broke free and dashed toward the wealthy-looking young lady he’d spotted earlier. He figured that even if someone chased him, as long as he had a hostage, what did he have to fear?

Damn it, I’ve been on the streets for years—if I can get through today, I’ll find someone to deal with that out-of-towner!

But just as he reached for the pretty face, a shadow suddenly loomed. Before he could react, a searing pain shot through his face, and he was sent flying backward. In his last moment of consciousness, he barely glimpsed the weapon—not a blade or club, but a foot clad in a soft-soled brocade boot. The next instant, his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

The sudden turn of events left even Matthew Perry frozen in place, not to mention the trio who had just jumped in to help. The crowd fell silent, everyone replaying that “last-minute kick” in their minds.