Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

After the funeral, Celen settled Larissa in a secure apartment on the outskirts of the city.

Although this place is remote, the security is relatively good, and gang members will not easily come to harass you.

The rent was relatively cheap; Xilun paid for two years in one go, and with the compensation, it was enough for Larissa to live comfortably for two or three years.

"Live well."

Standing at the apartment door, Celen said to Larissa, "Fan wants you to live."

Larissa clutched the stack of banknotes tightly, tears welling up in her eyes again.

She didn't say thank you, but simply nodded emphatically.

After leaving the apartment, Siron did not return to the Golden Rooster Hotel, but went directly to the Iron Cross Fight Club.

He showed his badge as Lund's personal disciple, went straight up to the third floor, and entered his private training room.

The heavy, gilded iron gate slammed shut behind him, shutting out all the noise, rain, and sorrow from the outside world.

The training room was spacious and cold, with a refrigeration unit that looked like a steel monster in the center, and a gravity array engraved with intricate runes next to it.

Xiren took off his black trench coat and tossed it to the ground. He was shirtless, revealing a body covered in scars of all sizes, with muscles sculpted like marble.

He walked to the control panel and, without the slightest hesitation, adjusted the temperature to the absolute limit that his body could currently withstand.

He then turned on the refrigeration unit.

Accompanied by a tooth-grinding mechanical roar, the temperature in the training room plummeted instantly, and the moisture in the air condensed into frost at a visible speed, covering the walls and floor.

Xilun walked to the center of the formation and sat down cross-legged.

The suffocating cold air felt like an invisible mountain, crashing down on his shoulders.

His bones creaked under the strain, his internal organs seemed to be gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and every breath required all his strength.

The icy water droplets, like countless cold steel needles, pierced his flesh and bones through his open pores, attempting to freeze the surging blood and qi within him.

"Not enough..."

Xilun let out a low growl, and a tangible madness erupted from his dark golden eyes.

He closed his eyes and pushed the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" to its limit.

The Qi and blood that normally circulate gently are now like wild horses running rampant in his meridians, turning into a raging torrent.

The dark, dragon-like muscle lines on his body surface bulged out, as if trying to break free from the skin's constraints.

In his mind, he replayed again and again the enormous, despair-inducing body of the devil whale, Sarah's sharp blade tearing through the sea, and Balk's haughty, hypocritical, and arrogant face.

Anger, grief, humiliation, resentment... all negative emotions were used as fuel by him, ruthlessly thrown into the frenzied furnace within his body.

"Tear...reassemble...tear again..."

Under the dual ravages of triple gravity and violent blood and qi, Xilun's muscle fibers kept breaking and oozing fine blood droplets.

But then, the powerful regenerative force of the guiding spell forcibly connected them together, making them thicker and stronger.

On the retina, the translucent system panel was throbbing wildly.

[Experience gained from "Guiding Technique for the Giant Whale of the Ocean" +1]

[Experience gained from "Guiding Technique for the Giant Whale of the Ocean" +1]

[Experience gained from "Guiding Technique for the Giant Whale of the Ocean" +1]

……

In the afternoon, the sky over Saint Laurent was completely swallowed up by thick, leaden-gray clouds, and a light drizzle began to fall outside.

Raindrops pounded against the huge glass windows of the Iron Cross Fight Club, leaving winding streaks of water that distorted the bustling yet indifferent street scene outside.

The club was still brightly lit and bustling with activity.

The clanging of mechanical gears mingled with the heavy breathing of the trainees, creating a powerful and rugged symphony.

Mentor Ryan, wearing a dark gray wool coat, pushed open the heavy oak door and walked in.

His leather boots were slightly muddy, and his expression carried a thoughtful and solemn air.

He glanced around the lobby on the first floor, looked at the peripheral trainees sweating profusely, gave them a few simple instructions, and told them to focus on their training.

He then did not linger in his office, but went straight to the stairs leading to the third floor.

The third floor is the exclusive area for formal disciples and mentors. The corridors are covered with thick carpets, which completely swallow up the sound of footsteps.

Raine stopped in front of the private training room belonging to Xilun at the end of the corridor.

The heavy, gilded iron gate was tightly shut, and a chilling aura emanated from the cracks.

Renn turned to the attendants standing guard nearby and asked in a low voice, "How long has he been practicing inside?"

One of the uniformed servants bowed respectfully, glanced at the pocket watch in his hand, and replied:

"Reporting to Mentor Rein, Young Master Siren has been inside for a full six hours and has not come out once in the meantime."

Upon hearing this, Ryan's brows immediately furrowed tightly, forming a deep "川" (river) shape.

He was well aware that Xiren was in a terrible mood lately. He had heard from Yuri's people that this tough-as-iron boy had just lost a very important friend.

The young man named Finn died in a cold and cruel ocean disaster, leaving behind not even a complete body.

Raine could understand the anger and helplessness that felt like it was tearing his heart apart, but the equipment in this training room was definitely not a toy for venting emotions.

The refrigeration unit, personally approved and allocated by Lord Lund, utilizes extreme physical environments to push the physiological limits of the human body, thereby forcibly accelerating the refining and transformation of vital energy.

This cultivation method is extremely domineering, like dancing on the edge of a knife. If you stay in it for too long, the terrifying cold will penetrate your bone marrow, causing irreversible internal injuries, and may even directly destroy the foundation of an extraordinary person.

Six hours is beyond the limit that a normal person being baptized can endure.

Ryan stood outside the door for a moment, took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself down.

He stepped forward, raised his right hand, and steadily knocked on the cold iron door with his knuckles.

"Tap, tap, tap."

The knocking sounded particularly muffled in the quiet corridor.

There was no immediate response from inside.

Raine waited patiently, knowing that forcibly interrupting such a deep flow of qi and blood would be extremely dangerous.

After a long while, the heavy metal bolt made a dry, grinding sound, and the iron door was slowly pulled open a crack.

A man appeared behind the door.

Raine looked at Siren in front of him, his pupils slightly contracting.

In just a few days, the boy seemed like a completely different person.

His face was extremely haggard; his once deep-set cheeks were now slightly sunken, and his messy black hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, with tiny ice crystals still clinging to the ends.

A chilling cold mixed with a strong smell of blood wafted in from under the door.

Xilun slowly raised his head. His eyes, which were usually calm and deep, were now a deathly crimson, like two bottomless blood-red wells, devoid of any emotional fluctuations that belonged to a living person.

"Who?" His voice was hoarse, like two rough pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

Suppressing the shock in his heart, Renn calmly said, "It's me."

Xiren stared at Renn with his scarlet eyes for a long time, as if trying to identify the person in front of him.

As reason gradually returned, the bloodshot in his eyes slowly faded, and a sliver of clarity returned.

"Mentor Raine."

Xilun lowered his head slightly, his voice still hoarse, but with a hint of respect, "If there's nothing else, please go back. I need to continue my cultivation."

Looking at him, who seemed on the verge of collapse yet stubbornly held on, Ryan's tone became stern:

"Sirlen, this component of the training room was designed specifically for your Heavy Sea Whale Breathing Technique after Lord Lund and I discussed it ourselves."

Its power is extremely high, so you absolutely cannot practice it for a long time, otherwise the cold air will enter your body and easily damage your health.

You've reached your limit.

Xilun listened quietly, his expression unchanged.

He calmly replied, "Thank you for the reminder, Professor Ryan. However, I know what I'm doing."

After he finished speaking, his lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something more.

Perhaps he wanted to explain his urgency, or perhaps he wanted to express his inner repression, but in the end, he kept his mouth tightly shut and said nothing.

He lowered his head, looked at his hands covered with frostbite and cracks, remained silent for a long time, and then slowly exhaled a breath of stale air with white mist.

"Alright." Siren's voice was so low it seemed to blend into the cold air. "I am indeed a little tired."

He turned and walked back to the training room, turning off the refrigeration unit that was making a loud noise.

A few minutes later, he changed into a clean set of black casual clothes, and carrying a black umbrella, he walked out of the training room.

"Mentor, I'll head back now."

Siren bowed slightly to Renn, then walked with slightly heavy steps toward the stairs.

Renn watched his lonely figure and sighed silently.

Xilun left the third floor and walked through the corridor on the second floor.

As he passed by those large classrooms, some students who were resting saw his back through the glass windows, stopped what they were doing, and began to whisper among themselves.

"Look, isn't that Xilun? He looks like a former disciple of Instructor Renn. It's said that he only trained with him for eight weeks before."

A tall student said in a low voice.

"I've heard of his reputation too!"

Another person chimed in excitedly, "He was a complete dark horse in the Vanguard Cup unarmed combat tournament next door a while ago! He not only won the championship, but he even managed to defeat Marshall in the finals!"

Upon hearing the name "Marshall," the surrounding trainees gasped and exclaimed in surprise.

"My God, is that Marshall from the Platinum Club?"

Platinum Club is a top club among the eight major clubs in our Saint Laurent City, aiming to secure second place and even chase first!

Marshall, a monster who consistently ranks in the top three within their club, actually lost to Sierra? That's unbelievable!

"Yes, I heard that the battle was extremely fierce, and Marshall was directly blasted off the ring."

Xilun's current strength probably far surpasses that of us peripheral students.

Others, unaware of the situation, asked curiously, "Why does he look so haggard today? What happened?"

A well-informed student leaned closer to the crowd and said mysteriously:

"Don't you know? I heard that his best friend was shipwrecked at sea."

"Huh? I heard about it too!"

Someone immediately chimed in, "It was a whaling ship from the ocean pier. It was unlucky when it went out to sea and encountered an adult manta ray, which then attracted a large group of great white sharks."

The ship sank, many people perished, and their remains were never found.

This incident caused quite a stir in the downtown area. I heard that some profit-driven film companies were even planning to buy the story and turn it into a disaster movie.

"No wonder he looked like he'd lost his soul..."

The students' chatter was shut out behind them by the heavy glass door.

Xilun pushed open the club's doors, unfurled his black umbrella, and stepped into the pouring rain.

The cold rain pattered against the umbrella, making a dull sound.

The puddles on the street reflected the dim streetlights, like indifferent eyes.

Xiren walked slowly in the rain, his pace not fast, each step steady.

The carriages around him roared past, splashing up large amounts of mud, but he seemed completely oblivious.

Back at the Golden Rooster Hotel, I pushed open the familiar, dilapidated wooden door to Room 106.

There was no fire in the room, and the air was filled with a musty, damp smell.

Xilun folded his umbrella, leaned it against the door, and lay down straight on the hard single bed without even taking off his soaked coat.

The rain was pattering against the windowpane outside.

The monotonous sound was amplified infinitely in the silent room.

Xilun stared silently at the peeling ceiling, pursing his chapped lips.

In his mind, those memories that he had forcibly suppressed were flashing wildly like a flood breaking through a dam.

He still cherishes the memory of the year he first arrived in this cruel world.

At that time, he, Finn, and Cage squeezed into a sweaty dormitory at the ocean pier.

Although they did the hardest and most tiring physical labor every day, to the point that they couldn't even straighten their backs, every night when the three young men lay on their tattered bedding, they could always talk about their hopes for the future.

Cage always snored loudly, while Finn would smile憨厚ly and stuff half of the saved rye bread into Celen's hand.

"Silen, eat more, you're too thin."

"Once I've saved enough money, I'll open my own bakery so you can eat freshly baked white bread every day."

Fein's simple, honest smile seems like it was just yesterday.

Xilun's mind was racing, and a sharp pain shot through his temples.

He muttered to himself, his voice sounding utterly desolate in the empty room:

"Fan had a father who died last month from exhaustion while working at the docks."

His mother was seriously ill, and he bought a lot of medicine, but it couldn't save her. She also passed away a few days ago.

He was bullied, schemed against by those scoundrels of the New Righteousness Society, and forced to sign that deadly whaling contract… He was an honest man, and no one stood up for him.

Xilun's hands slowly clenched at his sides, his nails digging deep into his palms, oozing bright red blood.

He took a deep breath, completely freezing the grief in his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, only pure rationality and coldness remained in his dark eyes.

"No one is backing up Finn, but I will avenge him."

"Sirlen said calmly, his tone devoid of any inflection, yet carrying a chilling resolve," he said. "Balk, the New Righteous Society...none of you will escape."

Xilun exhaled a long breath and sat up in bed.

He knew that anger and sorrow could not kill the enemy; only absolute power could crush all injustice.

He began to calmly organize his thoughts in his mind.