Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

"Come on! Let's drink!"

Diano stood up with a chuckle, opened a beautifully packaged bottle of spirits, tilted the bottle slightly, and prepared to pour it into the glass in front of Siren.

Siren leaned back in his chair and shook his head expressionlessly: "I'm not used to drinking."

Diano paused, the bottle hanging in mid-air looking somewhat awkward.

The managers sitting a little further away from the center exchanged glances subconsciously.

He doesn't even give face to the old factory director of Dianno? He won't even accept a toast. This new factory director is really arrogant.

Clearly, although they had been acquired by the Brotherhood, in the North District, they still held the old factory manager, Dianno, who was well-versed in the unspoken rules, in greater awe.

Xilun was not only a complete newcomer, but also so young, and his cold and hard attitude immediately made some people feel resentful.

A fleeting, almost imperceptible shadow crossed Diano's eyes, but he immediately burst into laughter, poured himself a full glass, and smoothed things over:

"It's alright. The Governor is still young, so it's normal for him not to drink."

However, the North District has its own customs; it's cold and chilly here.

During holidays and festivals, who doesn't drink a couple of shots of strong liquor to warm up?

"Your Excellency, you'll be staying here for a while, so you'll have to get used to it."

Xilun picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, glanced at Diano, and seemed to be deep in thought.

Was it an illusion? With his extraordinary intuition, he vaguely sensed:

Diano's words, on the surface, were meant to smooth things over, but in reality, they were subtly sowing discord between himself and the management present, emphasizing that he was an "outsider" who didn't know the rules.

Diano raised his glass and continued loudly:

"Come, let's all raise a toast to Governor Weston!"

Now that the Seven Seas Factory has been acquired by the Brotherhood, let's not mention that old name anymore.

Now it's just the Brothers' processing plant. After a drink, we're all brothers, so let's talk freely!

Everyone raised their glasses in agreement and drank it all in one gulp.

Xilun remained silent, quietly drinking warm water and eating the dishes in front of him.

His ears twitched slightly, his "Far-Aware Listening" talent quietly activating, capturing the heartbeats and breathing frequencies of everyone at the table.

After a few drinks, the conversation at the table really started.

Then a leader with a scar on his face complained, fueled by alcohol: "Your Excellency, you don't know, a few days ago, those bastards from the Iron Fist Gang came here again to collect protection money."

If we didn't give it to them, they smashed the machine and even injured two of our brothers.

In order to meet the deadline, we were forced to pay a large sum of money.

The other person immediately chimed in, sighing:

"In this northern district, for businesses like ours that involve processing extraordinary materials, the most important thing is having the biggest fist."

If you don't have two powerful extraordinary individuals to keep things in check, you're in for a lot of trouble.

The Metropolitan Police Department and the government don't really care about our affairs; they'd love for us to fight each other.

The Iron Fist gang members are all seasoned baptists!

"Yes!" The scarred man slapped his thigh. "Our processing plant isn't without its baptists, but we're no match for them."

The one leading the group on the other side was even a formidable expert at the first-tier extreme realm!

That's really impressive. He injured our old Jack without even unleashing his full power.

Old Jack has been a baptized person for over a decade!

Diano chuckled, put down his glass, and waved his hand to reassure everyone:

"Oh, that's all in the past."

Now that we have a new governor in charge and the Southern District Brotherhood backing us up, we can all relax and make our fortunes.

Xilun chewed on a piece of lean meat, his expression still cold and stern.

This Diano seems to be deliberately elevating himself, putting him on the hot seat.

The Iron Fist Gang has a Tier 1 Extreme Realm expert in charge. Dean deliberately threw out this news to see if the new governor dared to accept the challenge, or rather, he wanted to use the Iron Fist Gang to test his strength.

Xilun didn't respond, letting them talk.

He does need time to sort out the chaos in the North District; there's no need to get into a momentary argument over drinks.

As it was getting late, everyone finished their meal and went to rest.

He carried the black umbrella and arrived at a residence arranged for him by the Brotherhood.

This is a detached house near the factory, and it's not small.

Entering through the main gate, there is a rather spacious courtyard, and the main building has three or four rooms.

This is much bigger than the Golden Rooster Hotel where he used to live in the slums of the South District.

In addition to the spacious bedroom, there is a living room for entertaining guests and a separate dining room.

What pleased Xilun the most was that a huge training room had been specially set aside in the backyard.

Inside, there are plaques, huge stones used to test strength, heavy wooden blocks, and rows of training posts covered with iron sheets.

The courtyard is covered with lawn and has a few simply maintained scenic spots.

Several people were standing in the courtyard at that moment, led in by a middle-aged butler in a tailcoat.

Upon seeing Siren enter, the butler immediately stepped forward, bowed slightly, and said, "Are you the new Governor Siren?"

Xilun nodded slightly and leaned the black umbrella against the door.

The butler waved his hand respectfully, and several men and women behind him stepped forward:

"Sir, would you like some servants to attend to you? These are all men of impeccable character, purchased from nearby specialty shops."

Xilun paused, then raised an eyebrow.

Is this even possible?

He asked casually, "How much would it cost to hire these servants?"

The steward immediately replied, "Sir, in addition to room and board, we need to pay a salary of about two pounds per month."

But don't worry, these are all covered by the branch's public funds; you won't need to pay out of your own pocket.

Xilun's gaze swept coldly over these people. He was extremely unaccustomed to this life of being served. He was about to speak and withdraw his gaze to say, "I don't need servants," but before he could finish speaking, he suddenly remembered something.

"Are there any literate people here?" Xilun asked.

There was a moment of silence in the crowd, then two people slowly raised their hands.

Xilun looked over.

One was a young woman with a pale face and no expression.

He looked to be in his early twenties, dressed in coarse cloth clothes, and was thin, but he stood very straight.

The other was a middle-aged man with a pale face and tattered clothes, whose eyes revealed a fawning humility.

Xilun withdrew his gaze and pointed at the two people:

"You two stay here. I can give you any instructions if needed. The rest of you, take your seats."

The butler agreed and led the rest of the people out of the courtyard.

After dismissing everyone else, Xilun went straight to his study.

The study was filled with books on the shelves, and the mahogany desk was piled high with documents.

These are all matters that have accumulated in the North District and need to be dealt with.

As the newly appointed governor, he was naturally responsible for coordinating everything around him.

From minor matters like approving material collection and recruiting new employees, to major matters like internal personnel reassignment, and even tentative invitations from surrounding forces.

For example, some owners of high-end shops and underground concert halls invited him to meet and talk.

Xilun casually flipped through a few documents, and after scanning the lengthy and tedious data, he let out a long sigh.

He rubbed his temples and pondered: "These next few days might be a bit busy, but things will get much better once things are sorted out."

His primary focus is, after all, spiritual cultivation through extraordinary means, and he would never allow himself to be bogged down by such mundane paperwork.

He will then delegate all these tasks to his subordinates. He only needs to listen to the reports each day, sign off on them, and that will take about half an hour.

The Brotherhood's North Division is still in dire need of rebuilding.

Although the South Regional Headquarters is well-known, it can't offer him much substantial assistance in the unfamiliar territory of the North Region.

However, Xilun is not currently lacking in resources; what he cares about is long-term gains.

Yuri's support for him is considerable; he has already secretly approved a large sum of money.

The construction and expansion of the northern district is an urgent matter.

As for himself, besides having a firm grasp of the overall situation, he mainly needs to rely on his absolute strength through extraordinary means to suppress this chaotic branch.

Xilun leaned back in his leather chair, closed his eyes, and began to ponder the current situation in the North District.

Before leaving, he had already gained a general understanding of the area through the files at headquarters.

The North District is now characterized by one dominant force and several strong contenders.

The Tusol family, with its viscount title, is the most powerful force, like a behemoth that suppresses the entire region.

He didn't know if there were any fourth-tier demon hunter level experts in the Tusol family, but there were as many as five third-tier mutants on the surface!

This family's heritage is far more impressive than that of the Ocelli family in the South District; it truly lives up to its reputation as a viscount family with a history spanning over a century.

Below the Tusol family are four separatist forces.

These are: the Whispering Choir, the Scarlet Retreat, the Armed Insurgents, and the Colt family.

Each of these four forces has at least three second-tier "Rippers" in charge, possessing profound resources and monopolizing a large amount of smuggling, illegal drugs, and extraordinary material trade in the Northern District.

Below that are some medium-sized forces that have a name and influence at the grassroots level.

These forces are usually headed by a second-tier extraordinary individual, each controlling a region.

For example, the territory of the newly opened branch of the Brotherhood includes three lucrative districts, all nominally under the jurisdiction of a gang called "Bonebreaker".

The Shattered Bone Gang has an elderly second-tier extraordinary being in charge, making them a well-known name in this area.

Many scattered underground forces are under the control of the Bonebreaker Gang. For example, the Seven Seas Processing Plant, which the Brotherhood just acquired, originally paid taxes to the Bonebreaker Gang on a monthly basis.

However, due to the recent falling out between the Seven Seas Processing Plant and the "Iron Fist Gang" in the neighboring neighborhood, the highly profitable processing of extraordinary materials has aroused greed, and now the Iron Fist Gang has also forcibly gotten involved.

Although the Iron Fist Gang doesn't have any second-tier experts, it does have two extraordinary individuals at the pinnacle of their abilities, and it also employs more than a dozen ruthless black market gunmen, making it a considerable force. They have managed to seize control of many profit chains.

Xilun rubbed his temples again.

The situation is complex and complicated, and Diano and his associates each have their own ulterior motives.

The development of fraternity chapters cannot be rushed these days; a slight misstep could plunge them into the quagmire of gang warfare.

My main task is to improve my strength as soon as possible and prepare to deal with the snow mountain wonderland three months from now.

He put aside his thoughts and took out two thin booklets from the inner lining of his clothes.

One book was "The Temple: The Ascetic Method of Forging Bones and Iron Armor" given to them by their teacher Lund, and the other was "The Night Raven's Broken Wings Walk".

Both are top-notch methods that are extremely suitable for his current physical cultivation.

He first began to peruse the "Ascetic Method of Forging Bones and Iron Armor".

The pages were yellowed, and the book contained intricate diagrams of human muscle structure.

This is an ancient martial art that demands extremely high physical strength, and its core philosophy is extremely brutal:

The main advantage lies in its ability to withstand blows. After muscles are torn by blows, it uses its vast blood and qi to repair the body and uses its strength to forcibly temper the skin and muscles, making them as dense as iron.

Therefore, this technique has extremely demanding prerequisites: the practitioner must have a strong foundation, the stronger the better; and the heavier the external blows, the better.

If an ordinary person undergoes this baptism, their internal organs will be shattered before their skin can be properly tempered.

But now, with Xilun's extreme physical body and the powerful internal circulation of "adaptive organs," it's practically tailor-made for him.

He read it once and quickly grasped the basics, soon figuring out the pathways for the circulation of Qi and blood.

He put down the booklet and opened the second booklet—"The Broken-Winged Night Crow's Walk".

Xilun had never seen such bizarre fighting techniques before.

Judging from the name, he could roughly guess that it was a martial art involving legwork and movement.

Upon opening the title page, one is greeted by a line of startling words:

"Shaped like a broken wing, seemingly about to fall but not quite."

The book describes how, when performing this footwork, the user's body will adopt an extremely strange, even distorted, tilting posture.

The shoulders may suddenly and strangely collapse (simulating a broken wing), and the knees may bend at an unbelievable angle.

The person in motion looked like a black crow whose wings had been broken by a shotgun in mid-air, losing its balance and falling vertically, full of staggering, desperate, and broken feelings.

This is not the kind of straight-leg technique that relies on muscle bursts to accelerate, but a bizarre technique that uses extreme twisting of bones and muscles to shift the body and change into a deadly position in a fraction of a second.

Compared to the Iron Armor Ascetic Method, this footwork is countless times more difficult, and can even be said to violate ergonomics.

For Xilun now, it seems a bit far off.

Perhaps it will be necessary to try training only when he takes the potion and advances to the second-tier "Tearer," able to tear and reassemble muscle fibers at will.

The techniques involved in the circulation of qi and blood and the locking of joints are far more complex than those in the Iron Armor set.

Xilun shook his head and carefully put the blue booklet away.

He blew out the gas light in the study and returned to his spacious bedroom.

Outside the window, the cold wind howled through the northern district.

Xilun sat cross-legged on the bed, breathing in and out at the specific frequency of the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" to fall asleep.

With each deep breath, the potent power of the undigested red heart potion within him slowly dissipated as his blood surged, gradually strengthening his bones and internal organs.

At five in the morning, the sky was still a thick, inky black.

The cold air in the north seemed to be able to freeze bones; a breath exhaled could instantly condense into white frost in the air.

In the spacious backyard, two extremely burly men arrived.

Both men were over 1.9 meters tall, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with calloused hands.

They stood on the lawn, rubbing their hands together and looking at each other in bewilderment.

When Xilun pushed open the door and came out wearing only a thin training uniform, he coldly swept his gaze over the two of them and nodded slightly.

The butler, who was waiting nearby, immediately stepped forward and introduced:

"My lord, as you instructed, we have summoned two renowned strongmen from the North District."

In their youth, they had all reached the level of the Baptists, possessing immense strength.

However, now that my energy and blood are failing and I'm getting old, I'm not what I used to be, and I can only make a living by doing manual labor.

Xilun nodded slightly and said nonchalantly, "It's alright, as long as I have enough strength."

He pointed to a corner of the courtyard and said, "Can you two see the equipment on the weapon rack over there?"

The two burly men looked in the direction the finger was pointing, their eyes sweeping over the specially made tools on the weapon rack, and they were suddenly startled.

Those were two specially made, enormous iron rulers.

It is forged entirely from jet-black sand iron, making it incredibly hard. Although the edges are blunted, its terrifying weight is enough to cause a comminuted fracture even if it lightly bumps against bone.