I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

That was a dock.

But it was by no means the simple, dilapidated ferry crossing they had seen when they arrived.

The dock was enormous, almost like an extension of a bizarre city built on the riverbank, a dead steel jungle and twisted flesh.

Countless thick, rusty metal piles and stone piers, some covered with a dark, fleshy moss, are driven deep into the riverbanks and riverbed, supporting a vast and complex platform.

The platform is made up of thick wooden planks covered with unidentified stains and scratches, rusted metal plates, and even some materials that look like the skeletons of giant organisms, pieced together in layers, at varying heights.

Many strange buildings have been constructed on the dock: some look like magnified versions of stilted houses, leaning precariously and secured with ropes and chains.

Countless cables as thick as arms, rusted iron chains, and even slippery, tentacle-like objects extend from these structures, dangling into the upstream river below, or connecting to various oddly shaped boats moored at the dock.

There were many people on the dock, or rather, many people who didn't look human from a distance.

They moved silently among the complex buildings and piles of goods, carrying various items wrapped in tarpaulins, animal hides, and even wriggling leather bags.

Apart from the occasional dull sound of the river water hitting the pile foundation, the sound of cargo being dragged and rubbing against the ground, and some indescribable, involuntary, slight wriggling or hissing sounds, there was not a single sound of verbal communication throughout the entire massive dock!
Zhang Yangqing could tell that these people were alive, but there were also special rules here, and they were all keeping silent in order not to break the rules.

This extreme, oppressive silence is more chilling than any loud roar.

The chairman and the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes felt immense pressure upon seeing this. There were countless powerful individuals here, and even some seemingly insignificant character could easily defeat them. Any misstep could lead to their demise.

The air was filled not only with smells, but also with an invisible mental pressure that made every breath feel heavy.

Those silent figures moving about may seem ordinary, but who knows if they harbor unfathomable and terrifying energy within them?

Therefore, choosing an attack target, or finding an "easy target," is also a choice made by many chosen ones.

Find the weak outsiders disguised as natives, kill them, find the River of Oblivion, and you will be able to return.

This is a complex process that requires infiltration, observation, and so on.

They must be like the most patient viper, hiding in the grass, waiting for the weakest and most unsuspecting prey.

Zhang Yangqing found it too troublesome and whispered his plan in their ears.

The plan was simple and direct, yet so arrogant as to defy common sense.

Their pupils dilated, and a chill ran from the soles of their feet straight to the top of their heads.

If Zhang Yangqing hadn't said those words, the two of them would have thought he was crazy.

The scene at the dock remains the same.

On the edge of the heavy shadows cast by several crooked stilt houses, a few laborers were resting beside a pile of wet, smelly sacks and wooden crates.

They weren't truly relaxed; they were just temporarily out of work, like machines that had temporarily stopped.

One of the laborers had half his face covered with a rough, chapped layer of skin, cracked like tree bark, with a dark red glow shining through the cracks.

The other neck was unusually thick, covered with fine, gill-like slits that pulsated slightly with his deathly breaths, emitting an extremely faint hissing sound, like air leaking out.

In the oppressive silence, a man slowly walked into the relatively bright area at the entrance to the dock. His purple pupils, like two deep amethysts in the dim light, calmly reflected the eerie world before him.

He wore clothes that seemed out of place in this world—a sharply tailored, uniquely made dark black Marek work uniform that made him look even more dashing and immaculate, a stark contrast to the rust, grime, and slime that were everywhere on the dock.

He's obviously an outsider, and the kind of outsider who 'can't act'.

He was the only one who appeared, with a hint of curiosity on his face, seemingly completely unaware of the endless dangers lurking around him. He appeared abruptly and unpreparedly at the edge of this silent dock.

Meanwhile, the chairman and the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes had already followed the first step of Zhang Yangqing's "crazy" plan, disguising themselves as locals and managing to blend into the end of a group of laborers carrying loose goods.

They lowered their heads, mimicking the numb posture of the surrounding laborers, their movements stiff and slow, but their senses were heightened to the limit as they began to secretly observe those who would inevitably be drawn to Zhang Yangqing by this high-profile intruder.

When these laborers who were taking a break, as well as some indigenous people who were working silently nearby, saw Zhang Yangqing appear, many of them showed an almost instinctive, numb expression of schadenfreude.

Every now and then, they would encounter some ungrateful outsiders who had stumbled into this place.

The fate of these outsiders was already commonplace to them; in the end, they all became cold corpses piled up in the corners of the docks or sunk to the bottom of the upstream river, leaving not even a trace of extra sound.

Because those who survive will disguise themselves as indigenous people that no one can detect.

This young man with purple eyes doesn't seem to be an exception.

Zhang Yangqing's high-profile appearance was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, instantly attracting the attention of the dock managers.

Soon, two fierce-looking figures dressed in dark leather armor strode out of a stilted house with rusty iron hooks and dried, unidentified limbs hanging from it, heading straight for Zhang Yangqing.

They looked like hidden masters, with steady and powerful steps, ruthless eyes, and an aura of bloodlust honed by years of killing and undisguised murderous intent. They were clearly law enforcement officers at the dock, responsible for driving away or clearing out "unauthorized personnel".

The two men, one in front and one behind, stood like two moving walls in front of Zhang Yangqing, blocking his path and his view.

The leader of the hidden clan experts swept his cold gaze over Zhang Yangqing, his voice hoarse and deep, carrying an unquestionable authority: "This is the dock; unauthorized personnel are prohibited from entering."

His tone was flat, yet it was full of a sense of expulsion.

Zhang Yangqing looked like an ignorant novice, completely unaware of the danger before him.

His curiosity deepened, and he pointed to the laborers silently moving goods in the dim light and the strange ships moored deep in the dock, asking, "I'm just curious, what are they doing?"

This "ignorant" demeanor caused a flicker of impatience and contempt to cross the eyes of the leading hidden clan expert.

He didn't want to waste any more words and was about to end this boring conversation in the most concise way possible: "While I'm not planning to make a move, you can choose to do it yourself."

The word "get lost" was still stuck in his throat, not yet uttered.

The hidden clan members beside him could no longer contain themselves.

He had already sized Zhang Yangqing up and down several times, his gaze lingering greedily on the peculiar-looking equipment.

Seeing that the leader seemed about to kick them out, he stepped forward, a smile of arrogance, cruelty, and greed on his face. He raised his voice, interrupting the leader: "Boss, why waste time talking to this newbie!" (End of Chapter)