Even the Norwoods, the family that abandoned him, were an important part of Silverton, yet they were nothing more than a speck of dust in Silveraberg. The Solberg family was a big one, yet not even they could control the whole of Silveraberg.

Silveraberg was on par with Uppersea, and maybe even Imperia. A single person having enough power to grant him immunity in Silveraberg? Preposterous.

The bodyguard shook his head and grinned. “No, and I don’t have to.”

Evan noticed he stood taller the moment he said that. That was pride that came from within. If a bodyguard had that much pride, then his employer must have even more of that.

“Very well,” said Evan. “But there’s one more thing I must do before I go.”

“But I thought you cut your family off already.” The bodyguard was surprised.

Evan said nothing. Instead, he told the bodyguard to drive him to the mall. Then, he watched Evan walk into a barber shop. “What are we doing here?”

Evan told the barber, “I need a change of hairstyle.”

The barber sized him up. He kindly said, “Sir, that’s the most popular style of the year. I can see a top fashion artist styled you up. There’s nothing to change!”

“I hate this hairstyle. Just change it!” said Evan coldly.

The heiresses’ obsession with controlling everything about Evan had gone into total overdrive. They dictated everything about him, down until his hairstyle and clothes. They were the ones who came up with the whole style he was wearing now, and they forbade him from changing it how he wanted.

If he tried to, and they found out, they would punish him.

There was this one time where they made him wear a custom-made tuxedo, and the collar was suffocating him, so he changed out of it.

The heiresses went ballistic when they found out. He would never forget how they roared at him. He thought they would tear him apart and eat his remains. The heiresses dressed him up as Zeke would dress himself up.

His clothes, his accessories, and even his hair were all Zeke’s style.

Evan had enough of that.

He gave the money back, and they were estranged. Now, he wanted to be himself.

“Give me a buzzcut!” demanded Evan, and something radiated around him.

The barber was shocked, and he quickly trimmed Evan’s hair.

…

With every move, more of Evan’s hair fell. Freshness welled within his heart. It wasn’t just hair he was cutting off; it was the chains of the past. He was killing the fetters that kept him locked. He could feel the collar around his neck fading away.

Soon, the haircut was done. Evan stood before the mirror, looking at his reflection. The style change made him handsome, his lines sharp.

Evan was more aggressive now, inside out. He had the air of a real man. Buzzcut was a true test of a man’s looks.

The idol look still made him look good, but it lacked a man’s powerful air. Now he had that air. His eyes blazed like roaring braziers shining with energy.

The bodyguard watched the whole trim, and he was stunned. All Evan did was trim his hair, and it almost felt like he had a total makeover.

…

Evan left the barber shop and stepped into a men’s fashion store. He took off the expensive custom-made suit the heiresses bought for him and changed into casual wear.

He hated suits. They were very suffocating. Loose casual wear was more his style. These changes meant the old Evan was dead.

The man standing here now was a new man.

“What do we do with these?” The bodyguard pointed at the ring, bracelet, necklace, and all the other accessories. These items came from Bulgari’s charity gala.

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