One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

late at night.

The sea cliffs on the north side of Nathan Island.

The waves relentlessly pounded against the black reefs, churning up countless piles of white foam. The salty sea breeze, carrying a bone-chilling cold, howled into the already battered island.

The moonlight, like water, spilled onto the shimmering sea, creating a pale, silvery glow.

Zhang Taichu stood with his hands behind his back at the very edge of the cliff. His loose pajamas fluttered in the sea breeze, but his slightly thin figure was like a pillar of strength, as if even if the world turned upside down, he would still stand there, unmoved.

And five steps behind him.

The leader of the amusement park, who had just been hanging upside down from the roof beam in the main hall, pretending to be a ghost, was now obediently standing with his feet on the ground.

Not only did he land, but his waist was even slightly bent, displaying a humble posture that one would only show when facing an invincible superior.

Under the terrifying threat of that sword cleaving the aircraft carrier in two.

The so-called Western gentlemanly manners, the so-called elegance and composure, are nothing more than a fig leaf that can be torn off at any time.

"Tell me about it."

Zhang Taichu didn't turn around; his gaze remained fixed on the dark horizon in the distance, his voice as calm as if he were asking what to eat for dinner:

"In the middle of the night, instead of sleeping, you come to this cliff edge to enjoy the wind."

"You wouldn't actually be trying to buy this humble Taoist priest a drink, would you?"

Upon hearing this, the Hanged Man visibly stiffened.

He raised his white-gloved hand and elegantly adjusted his bow tie to conceal the slight, uncontrollable tremor in his fingertips.

"Master Zhang is joking."

The Hanged Man's voice still carried that unique magnetism, but his tone was infinitely more respectful than it had been in the main hall:

"Although I love wine, I value my life even more."

"That Zeus is still steaming on the seabed. How dare I joke with you at a time like this?"

He took a deep breath, and all the playfulness vanished from his pale, handsome face, leaving only the shrewdness of a businessman and the ruthlessness of a gambler:

"I'm here to make a deal."

"I want to trade a piece of information for the park's... right to exist on Nathan Island."

Zhang Chulan, who was standing to the side on guard, raised an eyebrow and was about to speak when Zhang Taichu waved his hand.

"The right to life?"

Zhang Taichu turned around, his deep eyes scanning the upside-down man, a playful smile curving his lips:

Your life is now in your own hands.

"As long as you don't provoke me like those Behemoth fools, I won't bother to stomp on a few ants."

"No, this is enough."

The Hanged Man shook his head, his expression serious:

"But I need your promise. On this island, as long as the people of Paradise don't cross the line, you won't take action to clean up their place."

As he spoke, he solemnly pulled out an object wrapped in oilcloth from the pocket of his well-tailored tuxedo.

Unveiling layer by layer.

Inside was a parchment scroll that looked extremely old, with its edges worn and blackened.

The surface is densely covered with various obscure geometric figures, celestial symbols, and long passages of ancient Latin annotations.

Just by taking it out, an ancient and chilling aura wafts out.

"This is one of Behemoth's top secrets, the core blueprint for Project Ascension."

The Hanged Man, holding the parchment scroll in both hands, offered it forward, his voice very low:

"They have been searching the world for people with special abilities, especially those like King Nathan who coexist with the Divine Tree, all in order to perfect this plan."

"And according to my research..."

The Hanged Man paused, then raised his head, a strange light flickering in his gray eyes:

"This so-called ascension technique actually originates from an ancient Western alchemy that has been lost for a long time."

"And the core logic of this alchemy, whether it's human modification or energy exchange..."

"They all bear a striking resemblance to the Eight Extraordinary Skills that emerged during that turmoil in your country back then."

boom!

These words struck Zhang Chulan like a thunderbolt.

Zhang Chulan's eyes widened suddenly, his breathing became rapid, and he stared intently at the rolled-up parchment.

Eight magical skills? !

Western technology is actually related to the Eight Extraordinary Skills?!

How is this possible?!

If it's true, it means that the Jia Shen Rebellion back then was not just an internal power struggle within the domestic community of supernatural beings; the waters there were much deeper than we imagined!

"That's interesting."

Zhang Taichu's expression finally showed a slight change.

He reached out and grabbed at the air.

The parchment seemed to be drawn by an invisible thread, flying directly into his hand.

Splash!

Zhang Taichu casually flipped open the ancient book that the Hanged Man treasured and was even willing to gamble with the fate of the entire park.

His gaze swept over the complex alchemical array diagrams.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

Only three seconds passed.

Snapped.

Zhang Taichu closed the parchment scroll.

"Oh."

A sneer escaped from his nose.

Whoosh!

With a flick of his wrist, Zhang Taichu tossed the priceless ancient book back to the Hanged Man like a discarded brick.

The upside-down man frantically caught it, looking utterly bewildered.

"Master Zhang, this...you don't believe me?"

"This is irrefutable evidence! The energy conversion formula within it is exactly the same as the principles of Feng Hou Qi Men and Shuang Quan Shou! This proves that different paths to power lead to the same goal..."

"Different paths, same destination?"

Zhang Taichu interrupted him, his sneer growing even stronger.

He turned around, looked at the vast, boundless sea, and said with disdain:

"Stop patting yourself on the back."

"I thought it was some earth-shattering secret."

Zhang Taichu extended a finger and pointed to the parchment scroll in the upside-down man's arms:

"What equivalent exchange, what Philosopher's Stone, what Gate of Truth...?"

"So-called Western alchemy is nothing more than a group of fools who didn't learn how to perceive the world or how to cultivate Qi back then trying to forcibly simulate the Way of Heaven using external objects, formulas, and those rigid material rules."

Zhang Taichu turned his head, his eyes gleaming with an arrogant light:

"You treat this junk as gospel?"

"Where we come from, this is called unorthodox or unorthodox methods."

"Thousands of years ago, the scraps that our ancestors had finished playing with, the ones that were too bulky to even be thrown on the ground, you picked up, repackaged, and gave them a foreign name..."

"Does he think he has grasped the ultimate truth of the universe?"

Zhang Taichu shook his head, with a look of pity as if he were looking at a frog at the bottom of a well.

"ridiculous."

"This is absolutely ridiculous."

The Hanged Man was completely stunned.

His mouth gaped open, and his face, which had been displaying a gentlemanly smile, was now as stiff as a piece of plaster.

The knowledge he was so proud of, the alchemical system he regarded as the origin of the world, and even the divine technology that even a behemoth like Behemoth revered as the ultimate standard.

In the mouth of this Eastern Taoist priest...

It was just... scraps?!

Rubbish?!

An unprecedented shock to his worldview caused cracks to appear in the Hanged Man's mind in that instant. He desperately wanted to refute it, to loudly argue that it was a product of science and magic.

but.

When he saw Zhang Taichu's calm, unwavering eyes.

All the words stuck in his throat.

Because he knew that the other party had the right to say that.

The man who cleaved the sea in two with a single sword stroke and made the divine tree kneel was the embodiment of truth itself.

"but……"

Zhang Taichu suddenly changed the subject.

The mockery in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a chilling depth:

"Since someone wants to use these scraps to stir up trouble, and even connect them to what happened back then..."

"That shows that even garbage can be used to disgust people."

Zhang Taichu waved his hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly:

"Deal reached."

"Take your men and get to the north side of the island."

"Don't let me see anyone from your park in my sight before I leave."

"otherwise……"

Zhang Taichu didn't finish his sentence.

But the Hanged Man could already feel the chill on his neck.

"Yes...yes!"

The Hanged Man felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and dared not utter a single unnecessary word. He bowed deeply to Zhang Taichu, almost dropping the parchment scroll.

He took a few steps back, then transformed into a swarm of black bats, instantly disappearing into the vast night.

Tranquility returned to the edge of the cliff.

The only sound was the waves crashing against the rocks.

Zhang Chulan looked in the direction where the Hanged Man had disappeared, swallowed hard, and cautiously approached:

"Grandmaster... is what that guy saying true?"

"The Eight Extraordinary Techniques...are they really related to foreign powers?"

Zhang Taichu did not answer immediately.

He looked up at the cold, round moon in the sky, his gaze gradually sharpening.

Whether it's related or not is not important.

"The important thing is that this made me realize one thing."

Zhang Taichu's voice was cold, colder than the sea breeze:

"The Jia Shen Rebellion back then was even more chaotic than I imagined."

"Not only is there a traitor within the family, but there's also a pack of stray dogs waiting to share the spoils."

"The so-called third-rate forces, the so-called thirty-six thieves..."

"They're probably just pawns pushed to the forefront."

At this point, Zhang Taichu suddenly laughed.

That smile carried a chilling murderous intent.

"OK."

"Since the net has been cast so wide, even fish from abroad want to come in and take a bite."

"If I, this humble Taoist, do not tighten this net, wouldn't I be letting down all their painstaking efforts?"

Zhang Taichu abruptly flicked his sleeves and turned to walk towards the camp.

Those originally lazy and casual steps now carried a decisive and swift air.

"Chu Lan".

"Pack your things."

Zhang Chulan was stunned for a moment, then quickly chased after him:

"Ah? Martial Uncle, so urgent? What about the Longhu Mountain branch..."

"Never mind."

Zhang Taichu didn't turn his head, his voice resolute:

"Go back to China."

He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through countless mountains and rivers, looking towards that distant ancient Eastern country, towards those rats still lurking in the gutter, plotting their schemes:

"I've had enough of this trip to relax."

"Some accounts..."

"We should go back, penny by penny, with interest..."

"I've figured it out."