Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 175 The Situation of Fester, Raine, and Tiller

On the morning of the fourth day, the sun, for once, pierced through the haze over Saint Laurent and shone on the slightly damp streets.

He changed into a clean and sharp black outfit and pushed open the heavy brass door of the Iron Cross Fight Club.

The hall was still filled with the smell of sweat and leather, and the dull thuds of punches and the rough cheers of men could be heard from the distant ring.

Siren walked straight to the front desk and calmly asked the blonde woman who was organizing documents, "Hello. Lord Lund has prepared a private training room for me. May I ask where it is?"

Upon hearing this, the receptionist abruptly looked up.

When she saw the young man in front of her with his cold face and deep eyes, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

"You—you are Sir Lund's newly accepted disciple, Mr. Sir Lund?"

Her voice unconsciously carried a hint of awe.

News of Xilen's victory in the Pioneer Cup had already spread within the club, and the announcement of Lund Knight taking on apprentices further elevated his status.

Xilun nodded slightly, his expression calm.

The woman quickly stood up and respectfully pointed out, "Mr. Siren, your private training room is at the far corner of the right-hand corridor on the third floor. It is one of the best-equipped rooms in the entire club."

Once you're up there, you only need to have your identity verified at the alchemical array in front of the gate.

"Thank you." Xilun nodded slightly and turned to walk towards the stairs.

He walked up the wooden stairs, and when he reached the second floor, he paused slightly.

He looked toward the familiar large room at the end of the corridor, the place where he had his basic training as an outer trainee when he first joined the club.

As if guided by some unseen force, Xilun pushed open the door and went inside.

The room reeked of sweat. Dozens of peripheral trainees were sweating profusely in front of the punching bags, intently practicing basic combat moves. No one paid any attention to Xiren who had just entered.

Siren quietly walked to a bench in the corner and sat down.

Looking at these students from the bottom of society who were struggling desperately for a sliver of hope, a complex mix of emotions welled up inside him.

It had only been a little over a month since he last visited, and everything here seemed somewhat unfamiliar. He and these people now lived in completely different worlds.

He yawned lazily.

Just then, a glass of ice-cold freshly squeezed juice was handed to him.

Xilun looked up and saw a thin young man with a face full of sweat looking at him nervously.

The child looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, with a stubborn look in his eyes, and he seemed somewhat familiar.

Xilun looked at him thoughtfully, but instead of reaching for the juice, she asked, "Who are you?"

The boy swallowed hard and answered crisply, "Sir, I am Tiller. Do you remember me?"

When you practiced here last time, I asked you for advice on power generation techniques.

A scene flashed through Xilun's mind, and he nodded slightly, remembering.

This is a boy who trains extremely hard, but has only average talent.

He reached out, took the glass of juice, and took a big gulp. The cool, sweet and sour liquid slid down his throat, instantly invigorating him.

After finishing his drink, Siren put the cup aside and looked at Tiller, asking, "What problem did you encounter this time? Is it a problem with your legwork, or an obstruction in your energy flow?"

Upon hearing this, Tiller shook his head vigorously, his eyes gleaming with an almost fanatical light.

"No, Mr. Celen."

This juice is specially for you; I have no questions for you.

Xilun smiled, looking at him with interest: "Oh? Why?"

Tiller's cheeks flushed with excitement, and his hands clenched into fists: "I watched your final match against Marshall! You were amazing!"

That kind of outburst under dire circumstances is absolutely exhilarating!

I want to follow in your footsteps, learn from you, and become an extraordinary person as powerful as you!

As Xilun looked at the imaginative young man before him, the smile on his face gradually faded.

He looked Tiller up and down, his gaze becoming deep and cold.

"Follow in my footsteps?"

Xilun's voice was soft, yet it carried an undeniable authority: "Boy, the path of the extraordinary is not a peaceful and easy road."

That was a dead end paved with blood, broken bones, and the fear that it could mutate and spiral out of control at any moment.

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He stood up, patted Tiller on the shoulder, and reminded him, "If you just want to learn some self-defense skills, you can become a bodyguard or protector and live a stable life."

Don't covet powers that don't belong to you.

Tiler was intimidated by Xiren's imposing manner and took a half step back, but the stubbornness in her eyes did not diminish.

He lowered his head and complained, his voice choked with emotion, "But—Dad and Mom got divorced."

The family's only house is burdened with heavy debt, and now my father is the sole breadwinner, carrying heavy loads at the docks to pay off the debts. He's exhausted.

Tiller suddenly looked up, his eyes reddening: "I want to be famous in the ring too! I want to win the championship prize money and earn it to help him pay off his debts!"

Xilun fell silent. In this era crushed by capital and steam-powered machinery, the suffering of the lower classes was always strikingly similar.

He sighed and asked, "How much did your house cost?"

Tiller wiped away her tears and replied, "It was bought in the White Oak district."

It's a three-room house with a small garden, in a great location, and it would cost about eighty pounds.

Siren was taken aback, his eyes widening slightly: "Eighty pounds? That's so expensive?"

He touched the sixty pounds of championship prize money in his pocket, which he hadn't even warmed yet. He used to think he was a rich man, but now it seemed that it wasn't even enough to buy a house in a decent place.

He quickly dismissed the idea of ​​buying a house, muttering to himself:

It's better to stay at the Golden Rooster Hotel and rent a room; Uncle Morrie's rent is very cheap.

Shaking his head, Xiren sat down again and said to Tiller, "Since you insist, let me see how you practice your breathing technique now."

Tiller was overjoyed and quickly stood in front of Xiren, his little face tense.

He took a deep breath and began to breathe in and out his energy according to the basic methods.

Xilun activated his "Far-Aware Listening" talent, keenly sensing the faint flow of Qi and blood within Tiller's body.

"Stop," Xilun interrupted him. "You're putting too much pressure on your left side, which is causing a blockage in the flow of blood and qi."

As you inhale, try to relax your abdomen further and press the pressure down to the soles of your feet.

Xilun casually offered a few pointers, correcting several fatal errors in Tiller's power application.

After trying to adjust, Tiller immediately felt much better breathing and bowed repeatedly to express his gratitude.

Just then, Xilun felt someone pat him hard on the shoulder from behind.

"Sirlen! You finally showed up!"

Xiren turned his head and saw Fester's sunny, smiling face.

"Fester".

Xilun glanced at him and noticed that the other man's demeanor was much calmer than before. "What have you been up to lately? I haven't seen you at the club in a long time."

Fester excitedly sat down next to Xiren and said in a low voice, "I'm about to be baptized! My mentor said my physical condition has met the requirements, and I've been busy these past few days regulating my qi and blood to prepare for the baptism ceremony."

What about you? What have you been busy with lately?

Xilun waved his hand, telling Tiller to go and practice on his own.

He turned around and chatted with Fester: "I haven't been busy with anything. I went to a competition in a neighboring city and have been resting for the past few days."

In a couple of days, I'm going to see an old friend to take care of some personal matters.

After exchanging a few casual words, Fester suddenly stood up, cracked his knuckles, and a fighting spirit ignited in his eyes: "Just chatting is no fun. How about a sparring match? Let me see your current strength."

Xilun smiled and stood up: "Okay."

Fester got into position and laughed loudly: "I heard from Mentor Ryan that you won that Vanguard Cup championship."

"I'm so honored to have a champion sparring with me! Come on!"

Before he finished speaking, Fester had already charged forward like a cheetah, his right fist whistling through the air as it slammed into Xiren's face.

Xilen stood still until his fist was about to touch his nose, then he slightly turned his head and casually deflected Fester's attack with his right hand.

The two quickly clashed on the field.

Xilun deliberately held back most of his strength, and didn't even use the recoil force of "Coiled Dragon," relying solely on pure physical reaction and footwork to dodge.

Even so, Fester became increasingly alarmed as the game progressed.

He found that every attack he made was like hitting a bottomless ball of cotton, not only posing no threat to Xiren, but also causing his stamina to drain away rapidly.

A few minutes later, Fester stopped, panting, and waved his hand.

"I'm not fighting anymore, I'm not fighting anymore." Fester wiped his sweat, secretly surprised.

He thought to himself that Xilun's current strength probably far surpassed that of those extraordinary beings who had just been baptized.

I'm not even close to being baptized, let alone comparable.

Fester sighed, but there was no jealousy in his eyes, only admiration: "Silen, the gap between you and me is really widening."

I need to practice even harder; I must become a mid-level knight like Lord Aldes someday!

Xilen smiled, patted him on the shoulder, offered a few words of encouragement, and then left the second-floor classroom, leaving Fester to continue venting his excess energy on the sandbag.

Xiren went straight to Ryan's office.

Pushing open the door, I saw Ryan dozing off in his large boss's chair, his feet propped up on the desk.

Suddenly, Ryan sneezed loudly. As he rubbed his nose and blew his nose with a handkerchief, he caught a glimpse of a figure at the door.

"Who is it? Don't you know how to knock before coming in?" Renn asked in a gruff voice.

"Mentor, it's me."

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Renn suddenly opened his eyes.

Xilun walked in with a smile and pulled out a chair to sit down as if they were old friends.

After finishing his snotty nose, Ryan threw the handkerchief into the trash can, looked Xiren up and down, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"You kid, you've now been officially accepted as Lord Lund's fifth disciple."

From now on, I'll be representing the face of a high-ranking knight when I go out into the world. I dare not accept your title of mentor anymore.

Ryan said, half-jokingly and half-seriously.

Although he said that, Renn's eyes and brows revealed an undisguised smile.

He felt genuinely proud to have taught such a brilliant student.

Ryan opened the drawer, took out a slightly yellowed newspaper, pointed to a small article in the corner of the page and said, "I read the brief news about the Vanguard Cup. It said you knocked Marshall of the Platinum Club out of the ring."

The newspaper description was too dry; it didn't include any details.

I want to hear you tell me yourself, how exactly did you defeat that monster?

Siren leaned back in his chair and narrated the course of the match in a calm tone. He described the mental calculations involved in the "breathing" technique, and then said that he seized upon his opponent's underestimation of him, using a series of attacks to force him out of the ring.

After listening, Ryan nodded repeatedly, slapped the table, and exclaimed, "You performed exceptionally well! To remain calm in such a desperate situation and find the only chance to win—that's what a true fighter is!"

He smiled at Xilun, his eyes full of expectation: "Your future achievements will probably be much greater than my potential."

However, I also know that His Excellency Lund has higher hopes for you than for me.

The resources he can give you are resources I can't.

Xilun nodded slightly, without replying, but his eyes were full of gratitude.

Raine stood up, took out an exquisite tea canister from deep inside the cabinet, and carefully pinched out a little tea.

"I usually can't bear to drink this tea myself, but today, thanks to you, let's have a couple more cups."

He skillfully brewed the tea and brought a steaming cup of tea to Xilun.

Xilun picked up his teacup, blew on it gently, and took a sip.

The tea soup is clear and bright, with a sweet aftertaste; it is indeed a rare and excellent tea.

He remarked with emotion, "After drinking my mentor's tea here last time, I've been thinking about when I can drink it again."

I've always remembered that taste.

Upon hearing this, Renn burst into laughter, pointing at Xilun and cursing, "You bastard, so you've been eyeing my little treasured tea all along!"

Xilun put down his teacup and said to Xiangxuan, "I love the tea you brew."

Renn put away his composure and earnestly argued with him: "Fine! As long as you can bring me the championship from that junior knight fighting tournament last year, I'll personally give you a pound of the finest Eastern tea!"

Xilun stood up, straightened his collar, and smiled confidently, "Then you'd better prepare in advance, or you'll regret it later."

After saying goodbye to Rennes, Xiren left the office and went up the stairs to the third floor.

At the end of the corridor, the heavy iron door, engraved with intricate alchemical arrays, stood silently.

Xilun pressed his identity badge into the groove next to the door.

With a slight mechanical clicking sound and a flash of eerie blue light, the iron gate slid open slowly to both sides with a dull thud.

Pushing open the door, the private training room was cold and deserted, without any unnecessary decorations.

The walls of the room are made of a special metal that can absorb impact, and the floor is covered with thick anti-slip mats.

In the very center of the room, there was only a solitary metal seat, surrounded by a dense array of pipes and nozzles.

After thinking for a moment, Xilun walked to the middle seat and sat down cross-legged.

The moment he settled into his seat, the room's sensors were activated.

"hiss""

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