Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 176 The Scandal of the Ocelli Family, Measures

Xiren suddenly felt an extremely chilling air coming from under his seat, as if he had been placed in an ice cellar.

Immediately afterwards, water began to drip from the overhead showerhead.

These water droplets were as heavy as mercury, and they stung the skin when they hit it.

He felt the coldness as if it had come alive, frantically drilling into the openings of his body's orifices, attempting to freeze his blood.

Xilun immediately closed his eyes and began to breathe in and out his energy.

The "Great Ocean Whale Guiding Technique" surged within his body, his blood and qi burning like a furnace, resisting the terrifying pressure from the outside in.

However, this is just the beginning.

Not only was the water cold, but moments later, scalding hot water suddenly gushed out from the surrounding pipes.

The extreme temperature fluctuations caused Xilun's skin to turn an eerie red and white color under the torment of this extreme heat and cold.

Then came the even heavier pressure of gravity.

The air pressure in the room suddenly increased, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on his shoulders.

Under such extreme circumstances, Xilun's blood circulation was forced to its limit.

He relentlessly squeezed out every last bit of strength to resist the pressure coming from all directions.

Under this high-pressure situation, the "coiled dragon" pattern on his body was fully activated, and black fine lines ran wildly under his skin.

The tempering of the skin and flesh is constantly deepening, and muscle fibers are torn, compressed, and reorganized.

He could clearly feel himself growing stronger amidst this hellish torment.

Four hours later.

The iron door to the training room slowly opened.

Xilun emerged, his body emitting white steam.

His clothes were completely soaked with sweat and moisture, but his eyes shone brightly, like cold stars in the night.

"The effect is indeed remarkable." Xilun clenched his fist, feeling the surging power within his body that felt as responsive as his own limbs.

As they passed through the corridor, the maintenance manager reminded them, "Mr. Siren, the array and energy consumption in this training room are extremely high."

To ensure the equipment's lifespan, it can only be used for a maximum of four hours per day.

Xilun nodded slightly, calmed his breathing, and said, "I understand. Thank you for reminding me."

By the time Siron walked out of the Iron Cross Fight Club, it was completely dark.

The gas streetlights on both sides of the street emitted a dim, flickering light, casting dappled shadows on the damp stone pavement.

Xilun surveyed the night sky, thoughtfully tightening his coat.

He keenly noticed that the streets seemed unusually quiet today.

At this time of day, there would normally be many drunkards and prostitutes loitering around, but at this moment, the entire street was deserted, and not even a stray dog ​​could be seen.

A sense of oppression permeated the air.

However, Xilun was highly skilled and daring. He had just completed the ultimate tempering in the training room, and the abundant blood and qi in his body gave him great confidence.

He didn't think too much about it, assuming it was just because of the weather, and started walking, preparing to cross the street back to the Golden Rooster Hotel.

Just as he was about to cross a crossroads.

Suddenly, a deep engine roar came from afar.

Xilun paused, startled.

In this era dominated by steam-powered machinery, owning a car meant one of immense wealth and status, and was certainly not a common sight in ordinary neighborhoods.

Two blinding headlights tore through the night as a black vintage sedan turned the corner at breakneck speed, exuding an arrogant aura.

The car slammed on the brakes not far from Xilun, the tires screeching as they rubbed against the wet, slippery ground.

The car door was quickly pushed open, and four burly men in black trench coats jumped out.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their hands discreetly hidden under their clothes at their waists, clearly indicating they were well-trained.

Before Xilun could react, a second and a third identical black sedan roared in, completely blocking Xilun's way in and out.

The car doors opened one after another, and more than a dozen people got out.

They were all dressed in suits and ties, with cold expressions, forming a subtle encirclement that trapped Xilun in the center.

Xilun's eyes instantly turned cold.

He did not make any rash moves. The "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" within his body had already been quietly activated, and his Far Listening talent instantly opened up, allowing him to hear every rustling sound within a three-meter radius.

A man slowly stepped out of the third car through the rear door.

This was a young man who looked to be about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, wearing an extremely well-tailored dark blue bespoke suit with a silver family crest pinned to his lapel, symbolizing his aristocratic status.

He was tall and slender, with a handsome face but a sickly pallor.

He stood there, seemingly born with an air of superior arrogance.

The man took out a clean white handkerchief, gently covered his mouth and coughed twice, then looked at the surrounded Xilun and sized him up with the eyes of someone scrutinizing prey.

"Let me confirm."

The man's voice was soft, yet it reached Xiren's ears clearly, "Are you Xiren?"

Xilun stood still, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, calmly meeting the other's gaze, and said indifferently, "So what if it is?"

The man nodded slightly, folded the handkerchief, and put it back in his breast pocket.

"I am Ross."

Upon hearing the name, Xiren felt it sounded somewhat familiar. He quickly searched his memory for relevant information.

After a moment, looking at the other person's facial features, which bore a resemblance to someone else's, he suddenly realized and asked, "You are—Robert's brother?"

Ross nodded slightly, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"That's right. Although I've always disliked that good-for-nothing younger brother."

He's foolish and impulsive; despite relying on his family's resources, he can't even get a decent ranking—he's a disgrace to the family.

When Ross spoke of Robert, there was an undisguised contempt in his tone, as if he were talking about a piece of disgusting garbage.

However, Rose's expression changed instantly after he said those words.

The initial contempt vanished, replaced by an extreme coldness and ruthlessness.

His grey-blue eyes were fixed on Xilen, as if trying to see through his soul.

"But he does have our family blood in him after all."

To let him die like a stray dog ​​in a stinking ditch, at the hands of a lowly slum dweller, is simply unacceptable to me. It's a matter of family honor.

Ross's voice turned icy and echoed through the empty street.

"So please come with us, my father wants to see you."

Roston paused, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes: "I think you should have been prepared for this long ago, after you killed him."

Xilun stood there, expressionless, seemingly oblivious to the murderous aura emanating from the men in suits around him.

He countered, "What preparations?"

Ross suddenly laughed, his laughter revealing a sense of pity and mockery from someone in a high position towards the lower class.

"As someone who comes from the slums, you should know how this world works."

Not just anyone can be killed indiscriminately.

The law is only meant to restrain you lower classes.

Ross took two steps forward and stared intently at Siron: "Robert may be my foolish brother, but he deserves to die."

However, only members of our clan have the authority to judge him and execute him.

Even if he really did mutate and go out of control, it's not your place as an outsider to take action!

Upon hearing these absurd remarks, a cold glint flashed in Xilun's eyes.

He calmly retorted, "So, you're saying that even if your family members completely mutate and go out of control, becoming monsters who only know how to kill, you won't allow anyone to stop them in order to protect themselves? So I should just stand there and let them kill me?"

"No, you're wrong." Ross smiled and shook his head. "Of course, others can stop him."

For example, your mentor, Lord Lund, or Mr. Renn, they have the qualifications because they have enough status and power to make our family wary.

Ross's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a sinister grin: "But you can't."

next moment.

It was accompanied by a series of rhythmic metallic scraping sounds.

The dozen or so men in black trench coats around them simultaneously pulled out large-caliber revolvers from their pockets.

More than a dozen dark gun barrels, gleaming with a cold metallic luster under the dim streetlights, were pointed at Xilun's head, chest, and limbs from all directions.

With just one command from Ross, Xilun would be riddled with bullets in an instant.

Even with Xilun's formidable "coiled dragon" defense, he would have had no chance of survival under such close-range and dense barrage of fire.

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

Ross stood outside the encirclement, hands in his pockets, regaining his aloof composure.

"Let's go, Siron."

Ross's voice was devoid of any emotion. "My patience is running out. If you utter another word of nonsense, or try to resist, I'll have no choice but to take your corpse back to my father."

Xilun's gaze swept over the dozen or so dark gun barrels.

He could hear the gunmen's steady breathing and knew they were all seasoned veterans who had seen blood.

If he were to fight head-on, he might be able to take a few people down with him, but he himself would surely die.

Moreover, since he is now Lund's disciple, the fact that the Robert family dared to openly intercept him on the street indicates that they did not intend to kill him directly, but rather wanted to conduct some kind of negotiation or interrogation.

Xilun frowned, a cold glint hidden deep in his eyes.

He didn't speak, but slowly loosened his clenched fists, indicating that he was giving up resistance.

"Very good, the choice of a smart person."

Ross nodded in satisfaction and stepped aside to make way for him.

Guided by more than a dozen guns, Xilun followed them expressionlessly, walked to the black sedan in the middle, and bent down to sit in the back seat.

Two burly gunmen flanked him from the left and right, their gun barrels never leaving his waist.

Ross got into the passenger seat.

"Drive back to the manor."

With the roar of engines, three black sedans sped into the deep night of Saint Laurent City like ghosts, heading towards the unknown place of judgment.

The cold night rain pattered against the car window, meandering down the black glass and shattering the bizarre neon lights of Saint Laurent City outside.

Siren sat in the back seat of the wide vintage car, next to two burly gunmen exuding a chilling murderous aura.

Although the dark muzzle of the gun had been retracted under his trench coat, the feeling of danger, like a thorn in his back, still lingered around him.

Xiren made no attempt to break the deathly silence in the carriage. He simply leaned back quietly in his leather seat, using his far-sighted listening ability to catch the steady, arrogant breathing of Ross in the front row.

The convoy sped through the rainy night, passing through the muddy, dilapidated streets of the slums, and entered the most bustling part of the downtown area.

Finally, it came to a slow stop in front of a vast estate tightly surrounded by towering black iron fences.

Two heavy, ornate iron doors swung open to the sides with a screeching metallic scraping sound, welcoming the return of their owner.

Siron was "invited" out of the car by two gunmen, one on each side.

He raised his head, his gaze passing over the rain curtain, taking in the renowned Ocelli family estate in the lower town.

The main building of the manor is a three-story villa in typical Victorian style, with gray and white stone walls that look particularly gloomy after being washed by the night rain.

The towering spires pierce the night sky, and the eaves are carved with grotesque stone gargoyles, as if silently watching every living being that enters this place.

Ross walked at the front, casually handing his rain-soaked black trench coat to a servant who came to greet him, without even glancing at Xiren, and headed straight for the brightly lit hall.

Xilun followed behind expressionlessly. He knew that tonight's confrontation had only just begun.

Pushing open the two heavy oak doors, a warm breeze carrying the scent of expensive incense and cigars wafted in.

The hall was decorated in an extremely luxurious style, with a blue and white color scheme that highlighted the family's noble heritage.

A huge crystal chandelier hangs from the high dome, radiating dazzling light and illuminating the smooth, mirror-like marble floor in every detail.

Apart from a few servants standing at attention, the only thing in the center of the spacious hall was a set of expensive leather sofas.

At this moment, a middle-aged man with a gloomy face was sitting in the main seat.

He wore a well-tailored dark vest and toyed with a sterling silver cane inlaid with rubies.

Those deep-set eyes gleamed with a cold, sharp light, like that of a venomous snake.

This is Baron Rosellc, the current head of the Ocelli family.

Rossellke didn't actually have high hopes for his youngest son, Robert.

Among the many children in the family, Robert's talent was only mediocre, and his personality was irritable and narrow-minded. He was treated as a dispensable family member, with indifference.

However, Robert's death cast two indelible scandals over the Ocelli family.

Robert, the eldest son of a baron, was completely defeated by a commoner from the slums in the Pioneer Cup tournament of the Iron Cross Fighting Club.

Even more terrifying, according to those ubiquitous media reports, Robert was beaten to the point of losing control by this young man named Celen, turning into a mutated monster covered in tentacles and black feathers, and was eventually killed in the street.

This is truly a complete scandal, a humiliation that has utterly trampled on the reputation of the Ocelli family!

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