Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Everyone was still in shock, staring in disbelief at the tortoise shell that exuded a terrifying aura, and then at the new governor who, though soaked to the bone, possessed an imposing and unfathomable presence.

"Gulp..."

I don't know who swallowed first.

Immediately afterward, one of the gang members, his face flushed with excitement, shouted at the top of his lungs, "The Governor is mighty!!"

Then, a tsunami of cheers erupted across the entire shore of Changqing Lake.

The water broke open again, and Hughes and Lyon, panting, climbed ashore. They looked at Xiren's retreating figure, nodding repeatedly, their eyes filled with unwavering fervor. If it weren't for the governor's unfathomable strength, single-handedly killing this fiend, the foundation of Evergreen Lake might have truly been destroyed.

At this moment, Diano, who had previously hoped that Celen would die at the bottom of the lake, turned deathly pale.

He approached with heavy steps, head bowed, his voice trembling uncontrollably, and whispered, "Governor... you are mighty."

His expression was one of surprise and disbelief. He simply couldn't believe that Xilun could single-handedly kill an extreme-level alien in the deep water. Moreover, apart from his slightly torn clothes, the kid didn't show any signs of serious injury or weakness!

Xilun glanced coldly at Diano, a look as if he were looking at a dead man.

He didn't speak to Diano, but instead, carrying his large gun, he slowly turned around, his sharp, knife-like gaze sweeping directly over the two people on the distant wall.

Xilun's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears under the silent night sky, carrying a condescending tyranny.

"Since you two are already here, wouldn't it be nice to come into the courtyard and have a proper chat with me, the new governor?"

The two men from the Iron Fist Gang and the Shattered Bone Gang on the wall felt a chill run down their spines when they were locked onto by that gaze, as if they were being stared at by a prehistoric beast.

The two men, their previous arrogance completely gone, were now deathly pale, and they forced dry laughs:

"No, I never imagined that the Brotherhood's new governor was so powerful... that he could actually kill an Extreme Ironclad Turtle underwater."

Now that the matter has been resolved, we need not meddle any further. Farewell! Farewell!

Having said that, the two jumped off the wall like startled rabbits and fled in panic.

As he left, the Iron Fist Gang member's face was extremely grim, and he frantically thought to himself:

"How is this possible! Previously, our Iron Fist Gang dared to invade recklessly because we saw that the North District branch was weak, and took a big bite out of their money."

This newly appointed governor, who has been parachuted in, is clearly only a first-order baptist, yet his strength is terrifyingly high!

He truly lives up to his reputation as the legendary new knight.

Such strength absolutely needs to be reported to the gang leader. From now on, we must carefully consider our actions towards the Brotherhood and refrain from rash actions!

After the villains were driven away.

The courtyard returned to tranquility, with only the howling of the wind and snow.

Siren held his spear upright beside him, his gaze sweeping over the three soaking wet Diano and his companions. He asked in a calm tone, "How are your injuries?"

All three of them lowered their heads, indicating that they only had minor injuries.

Diano, who paddled around the entire time to avoid injury, naturally suffered the least damage, without even breaking his skin.

Xiren took in Diano's embarrassment but didn't expose it on the spot. He simply said coldly:

"Go and rest. Today's events happened suddenly, and that armored turtle was indeed troublesome."

Everyone worked together to go into the water with me to restrain him; you all deserve credit.

"Go back and rest first; the rewards will be distributed tomorrow."

Upon hearing this, the three felt as if they had been granted a pardon.

Hughes and Lyon, in particular, clasped their hands in sincere admiration and bowed deeply, saying, "Thank you, Governor!"

Diano was among them, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

……

The wind and snow gradually subsided, but the stench of blood lingered on the shores of Changqing Lake.

After everyone had obeyed the order and left to rest, Xilun coldly summoned the butler and whispered a few instructions on how to clean up the mess.

The enormous armored tortoise shell lay across the shore like a small mountain, its crisscrossing, terrifying cracks a testament to the ferocity of the battle that had just taken place.

Xilun ordered his gang to carefully inventory the losses, properly seal the extraordinary relics that had been stripped from the extreme realm, and transport them overnight to the most heavily guarded underground warehouse of the North District branch.

After doing all this, Xilun walked alone through the snow back to his yard.

"Butler, prepare hot water and clean training clothes."

Xilun pushed open the heavy oak door and casually placed the heavy alloy gun, stained with the thick blood of the alien species, on the weapon rack.

The butler, who had been hunched over and following behind, immediately bowed deeply in respect upon hearing this: "Yes, Your Excellency."

Before long, a dim candlelight was lit in the spacious bathroom.

The flickering flames cast Xilun's pale body, covered in fine bloodstains, onto the wall, creating a long, demonic silhouette.

The bathtub was steaming hot, and expensive, extraordinary medicinal herbs tumbled in the boiling water, emitting a pungent yet vibrant bittersweet aroma.

With a blank expression, Xilun stepped into the bathtub and slowly immersed his entire body in the scalding medicinal water.

The high temperature and the medicinal power instantly entered his body through his open pores, and the lacerations, bruises, and intense aches between his bones left from fighting the armored turtle underwater began to ease at a visible speed.

Xilun leaned against the edge of the barrel, closed his eyes slightly, and felt the most fatal bite wound on his side.

A layer of dark blue fascia under the skin is slowly wriggling, as if it has its own life.

The flesh torn apart by the immense force was contracting and closing at a terrifying speed under the pull of the fascia, eventually forming a thick layer of dark red scabs.

Xilun opened his eyes thoughtfully, a glint of fanaticism flashing in them.

He rapidly deduced his next training plan in his mind.

What troubled him most when he was practicing the "Bone Forging Iron Armor Ascetic Cultivation Method" was the long recovery period.

This method, which originated from the medieval Knights Templar, is essentially about constantly destroying and then reconstructing the physical body.

Each time I was struck by the iron ruler, I needed to spend a lot of time soaking in a medicinal bath to repair the hidden injuries. Although Master Lund provided top-notch medicinal baths, it could only shorten the time by a small amount.

But things are different now.

The "Golden Turtle Cicada Molting" talent, recently stripped from the Ironclad Turtle, has demonstrated an incredible healing ability.

If he had such an almost abnormal physical regeneration ability as a backup, he could completely challenge the absolute limits of what the human body can endure, greatly shorten the rest time between two beatings, and forcibly increase the progress of his "Bone Forging Iron Armor Ascetic Cultivation Method" several times over!

Xilun closed his eyes again, listening to the occasional howling of the wind and snow outside the window, silently gathering the dormant lightning and whale power within his body, and immersing himself completely in the frantic study of martial arts.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the North District, lies the Iron Fist Gang headquarters.

In the dimly lit and spacious conference room, Boss Dawson sat upright in a large chair covered with a whole bearskin.

He held a thick cigar between his fingers, his knuckles rhythmically tapping lightly on the mahogany tabletop, producing a dull "tap, tap, tap" sound.

"Is everything you said true?" Dawson exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, his sharp gaze piercing through the smoke as he stared intently at the spy kneeling before the table.

The scout was soaked to the bone by the night dew, and his clothes were still covered with moss that had clung to the wall of Changqing Lake. He swallowed hard, his voice still trembling with barely concealed fear:

"Boss, it's absolutely true! I saw it with my own eyes, and the new governor of that Brotherhood branch is a monster."

Even underwater in the freezing cold, he could tear the jaw off an Extreme Alien with his bare hands.

"My subordinate saw it clearly; that armored turtle was obviously an extreme-level mutant, yet he was killed by him in a battle fought on the home turf of underwater mutants."

Dawson paused slightly, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the cigar.

"If what you say is true, and we allow it to do as it pleases on the water, then it would truly be a god or demon in the world, and few could rival it."

Dawson sneered, his tone unreadable, whether it was praise or apprehension. "It seems we seriously misjudged the combat strength of this newly promoted junior knight."

The scout dared not answer and could only bury his head even lower.

Dawson stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the North District streets shrouded in darkness.

He knew all too well the difficulties of underwater combat; water pressure, temperature, and breathing were all fatal limitations.

The fact that Xilun could fight against extreme alien species underwater shows that his physique and internal organs were incredibly strong.

However, Dawson also had his own judgment: while the aquatic environment limited humans, it also greatly suited the exertion of certain water-based martial arts techniques.

If they were on land, Xilun's strength wouldn't have increased so dramatically as it has underwater.

"It seems we can't underestimate this person. He is indeed a newly promoted knight who can trample geniuses like Ross underfoot on the arena. His strength is unfathomable."

Dawson turned around with a serious expression and instructed his adjutant beside him, "Go and invite the heads of all the branches of the gang tonight to discuss this together."

"The original plan to seize the Brotherhood's processing plant—whether it needs to be changed, and how to implement it—must be finalized tonight."

The adjutant acknowledged the order and withdrew.

Dawson returned to his private lounge and wearily rubbed his temples.

Managing a region requires handling an overwhelming amount of affairs every day.

Besides dealing with the treacherous scum of the Broken Bones Gang to the west and plotting to annex the Brotherhood's territory, his own cultivation had also reached a critical juncture.

Second-order extraordinary being, the Ripper.

This path is far too difficult; the genetic shackles stand like an insurmountable chasm before all those who are baptized.

Countless brilliant talents have fallen at the hurdle of breaking through to the second tier, suffering the tragic fate of genetic collapse and turning into monsters.

Dawson pondered for a moment, when a flash of inspiration suddenly struck him.

Wait a minute. Since Siren is the first place winner of the Junior Knight Fighting Tournament, doesn't that mean he definitely possesses a perfect-quality "Rebirth Potion" awarded by the Da Yu Dojo?

Moreover, according to the intelligence gathered by the Iron Fist Gang, this kid has only been training for a little over a year at most.

With his current extraordinary path to advancement, although his physical body is ridiculously strong, his strength foundation is certainly not yet at the perfect standard for breaking through to the second tier. This means that the priceless regeneration potion must still be with Xilun intact!

Dawson's face contorted for a moment in the dim light, and an uncontrollable greed surged from the depths of his eyes.

He then fell into deep thought.

If I can obtain this item, my long-standing bottleneck will be resolved, and I may be able to forcefully break through to the second-tier extraordinary realm within half a year.

Once he reaches that level, his life form will undergo a qualitative transformation, and no one in the Northern District will be able to stop him.

Not to mention the Shattered Bone Gang, he dared to stand on equal footing with even those high-ranking nobles, without the slightest fear!

"Even though Xilun has some connections, with that third-order mutant teacher named Lund backing him up, this is the North District!"

Dawson frantically calculated in his mind, "At worst, I'll spare his life. As long as I don't kill him and only take his potion, Lund might not dare to start a full-scale war."

Besides, I have the armed insurgent party as my backer, which can be considered a core subordinate force, so I'm not afraid of much. I absolutely cannot back down for a mere brat.

Coincidentally, on this snowy night...

Inside the headquarters of the Bone-Shattering Party, someone was also reporting the changes at Evergreen Lake to their muscular, towering chairman.

After listening to the report, the chairman played with two walnuts made from human skulls, which made a grinding sound that made your teeth ache.

He remained silent for a long time before saying in a deep voice, "Go, find out who your informants are at the police station and investigate them thoroughly."

I need to know if there are any hidden financial backers behind Xilun, and what kind of trump cards those guys in the South District gave him.

Only after everything is thoroughly investigated should we consider the next steps.

No one is allowed to provoke the Brotherhood before they have a clear understanding of his background.

The next morning, the snowstorm in the northern district stopped, and the sky turned a bleak gray-white.

Xilun emerged from the house precisely on time. He was dressed in a black, tight-fitting training suit, his face stern, as if last night's life-or-death battle was nothing more than drinking a glass of water.

The steward was waiting in the porch early on. When he saw Xilun come out, he quickly stepped forward and respectfully said:

"Your Excellency, as you instructed, the losses at Evergreen Lake last night have been calculated overnight."

As he spoke, the butler handed over a detailed folded document with both hands.

Xilun took the folding book, his gaze quickly sweeping over it. When he saw the alarming numbers for the core resource zone, he couldn't help but frown, a cold glint flashing in his eyes:

"He chewed up four whole lotus roots? This beast truly deserves to die."

The Ice Heart Lotus Root is a vital source of funding for the Brotherhood, and the loss of four plants is enough to make the branch's accounts look extremely bad this month.

The butler, observing the situation carefully, continued cautiously:

"Please calm down, my lord. Although the lotus root is damaged, fortunately the materials of that extraordinary relic have been completely removed."

It was a piece of extreme tortoise shell over two meters long. This item was extremely rare, with attributes heavily biased towards defense. If it were taken to the black market, it would surely fetch an astronomical price.

"I wonder what Your Excellency intends to do with this extraordinary treasure?"

Xilun casually tossed the folding book to the butler and said indifferently:

"This thing is cumbersome and useless to me."

Go and give orders to the managers below, and have them come up with a few solutions.

"Whether we sell it to raise funds or have craftsmen forge it into heavy armor to preserve its heritage, please put together your plans and tell me. I will make the final decision."

"Yes, Your Excellency is wise." The butler quickly agreed and stepped aside.

After finishing these tedious daily tasks, Xilun, like a tireless and precise machine, walked to the spacious training ground in the backyard and began his usual morning exercise.

He spread his legs and took a deep breath of the icy, bone-chilling air.

As the "Great Ocean Whale Guidance Technique" was activated, a low rumble, like the undercurrents of the deep sea, emanated from his chest.

Then, without hesitation, he sandwiched the two iron balls, each weighing several hundred pounds, between his legs and picked up the black alloy spear.

The gun tip tore through the air, emitting a sharp whistling sound.

Each thrust and sweep carries a terrifying, overwhelming force; even a powerful expert would feel suffocated by such pure violence.

This intense training lasted for more than an hour.