Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

When Xilun put down his spear and exhaled a long puff of white mist, the two were already waiting respectfully outside the courtyard.

They were those two burly strongmen who had been hired at high salaries.

Each of them held a heavy, rough cast iron ruler in their hand, their eyes filled with awe as they looked at Xilun's back, which was radiating heat.

"Let's begin today's practice." Xiren turned around, spread his arms, and stood in the snow like an iron tower, his eyes calm and without a ripple.

The snow in the backyard crunched under the heavy footsteps of the two strongmen.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The dull, terrifying sound of the impact echoed continuously in the courtyard.

The two strongmen gritted their teeth, their arm muscles bulging, and swung iron rulers, slamming them with all their might onto Xilun's back, arms, waist, ribs, and thighs.

Each impact produced a dull, teeth-grinding thud.

The two strongmen were panting heavily, large beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads and freezing instantly on the cold snow.

In contrast, although Xilun was also panting heavily and covered in bruises and bloodstains of all sizes, his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

With the heavy blow of the iron ruler, the dark blue fascia beneath Xilun's skin began to throb wildly, like an enraged beast.

The capillaries and muscle fibers that had just been torn, driven by the "Golden Tortoise Cicada Shedding" talent, began to contract and heal at a strange speed visible to the naked eye, before they even had a chance to bleed out.

This did not weaken his ability to withstand blows; on the contrary, it made the newly formed skin membrane even tougher and thicker than before.

"Don't stop, keep going!" Xilun roared, his voice filled with barely suppressed excitement.

The two strongmen exchanged a glance and saw the despair in each other's eyes.

They originally thought this job would be easy; anyone can beat someone. But the governor in front of them was no human being!

Compared to usual, Xilun withstood an extra hour of extreme impact today.

Only when the two strongmen's arms spasmed and the iron rulers slipped from their hands and fell to the ground did Xilun call a halt.

After stopping, Xilun immediately stepped into the hot medicinal bath that had been prepared.

He closed his eyes, checked his condition, and finally a barely suppressed look of joy appeared on his cold face.

"Just as I expected."

Xilun secretly pondered, "This extraordinary talent of the Golden Tortoise Cicada Shedding is simply a heaven-defying thing when assisting in the cultivation of the 'Bone Forging Iron Armor Ascetic Method'."

It can rapidly heal deep-seated injuries, allowing the body to complete a high-intensity cycle of impact and regeneration in the shortest possible time, greatly improving the efficiency of this training method.

He stared at his body, which was immersed in the medicinal solution.

Inside the medicinal bath, those terrifying dark purple wounds were rapidly scabbing over and falling off, revealing new skin with a rough, iron-like color.

In just a few minutes, the originally hideous wounds shrank and healed to the point that they were almost invisible.

The medicinal power surged wildly into the body through the open pores, rapidly cleansing the bones and fascia.

Less than ten minutes later, Xilen abruptly rose from the tub. Water droplets slid down his chiseled muscles.

He threw on a thin shirt, his cold gaze sweeping over the two men slumped on the ground, and shouted, "Brothers, have you rested enough? Let's go again."

At this moment, the two strongmen, known for their strength, had been sitting down and catching their breath for less than ten minutes.

Upon hearing Xilun's instructions, both of them looked up blankly, their faces filled with disbelief.

What the hell? This governor not only endured twice the usual beating, but he also only rested for a short while before having to continue?

They listened with expressions of utter incomprehension, even doubting whether they had misheard.

But when they saw that the numerous wounds on Xilun's body had almost completely healed, and that only a faint trace of bloodstains could be seen on his skin upon close inspection, their shock was beyond measure.

"This is unbelievable..." The two strongmen wailed in despair, but under the terrifying pressure of Xilun and the generous reward, they could only grit their teeth and pick up the iron ruler again.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The sound of heavy blows rang out again, and this inhumane sparring continued until the afternoon.

In the end, the two strongmen were so exhausted that they could barely stand. They were foaming at the mouth, and their hands were bleeding from the force of the impact. They could not even swing the heavy iron ruler.

However, Siren, who was at the center of the storm, seemed to be in complete control, and her eyes remained clear.

He waved for the two to leave and stepped back into the newly prepared medicinal bath.

In the misty haze, a series of pale red data points flashed and cascaded down Xilun's retina like a waterfall:

[Skill: Bone Forging Iron Armor Asceticism (Proficient)]

[Progress: 0/500]

Xilun looked down and saw that a layer of dull, iron-colored substance had completely formed under his skin.

He clenched his fist slightly, and his muscles bulged as if they were about to explode, with veins popping out like dragons.

The fascia became tougher than ever before, and even the bone was undergoing a subtle transformation, becoming denser and heavier.

From a distance, one could vaguely sense that his skin had solidified into a single unit, as if he were wearing an invisible suit of armor, which was extremely hard and inseparable from him.

"At the current pace, my strength has naturally already stabilized at the peak of the extreme realm level."

Xilun clenched his fingers, feeling the terrifying power emanating from his fingertips, lost in thought.

"I just don't know how far I am from being a true second-tier extraordinary being in terms of pure combat strength?"

Xilun was always cautious. He knew very well that, in general, even those who were at the extreme level of extraordinary beings were far inferior to the second-tier Rippers who had undergone genetic recombination and two baptisms in terms of life level.

However, he is different from ordinary people; he still has a lot of room for improvement.

If he could master the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" to the fifth level in one fell swoop, his own strength would be more than twice as strong as it is now.

Thinking back to that time, even if they weren't as strong as the veteran Rippers who had undergone a second baptism, they wouldn't necessarily be much weaker. At least they would have the confidence to fight head-on.

Moreover, his current process of forging bones with the iron ruler is not only a way to cultivate this self-torturing and weakling technique, but also a way to further refine the remaining Red Heart Potion in his body by using external heavy blows and medicinal power.

After half a month of arduous training, Xilun vaguely sensed that a crucial part of the scorching red heart potion, as hot as magma, had been refined.

"We are extremely close to the fourth level of the Qi Guiding Technique."

Xilun closed his eyes, feeling the faint barrier within his body. "Perhaps within a month, I will be able to achieve a breakthrough naturally."

He pursed his lips, stood up from the bathtub, and looked at the two poor strongmen in the corner of the yard who had just put down their iron rulers.

The two strongmen looked at Xilun in utter horror.

They never imagined that after just a short rest, Xilun would be full of energy again, like a tireless monster.

The two men immediately collapsed to their knees in the snow, wailing in pain:

"The Governor-General has an amazing physique, truly a god descended to earth, far beyond the reach of us mere mortals!"

We are so exhausted that we can't even lift the iron ruler anymore. We beg your mercy, sir, to allow us to go back and rest for the night, and we will come back to serve you tomorrow!

Xilun glanced at the clock on the wall and said coldly, "Very well, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

After letting the two leave as if they had been granted a pardon, Xilun returned to his inner room, sat cross-legged on the bed, and continued to practice basic breathing techniques to stabilize the turbulent blood and qi in his body.

Around midnight, there was a soft knock on the door.

Rena and Rod walked in, each carrying a thick stack of documents.

After placing the documents on the desk, Rod respectfully said:

"Your Excellency, all the urgent documents from various departments have been annotated and the key points highlighted. Would you like me to recite them to you?"

Xilun shook his head and casually flipped to the top ledger: "No need, I can look at it myself."

Rod immediately bowed and withdrew, knowing the situation was right.

Only Siren and Reina remained in the study.

As he quickly flipped through the documents, Xilun casually asked, "Is there anything unusual in today's official documents?"

Rena maintained her aloof and detached demeanor. After a moment's thought, she stepped forward, extended her slender finger, tapped a stack of documents, and said softly:

"Reporting to you, sir, it seems that some of the instructions from former factory director Diano have been found to be unusual after comparing the accounts of both parties."

Xilun's eyes narrowed, but his movements did not stop.

Following Rena's directions, he opened a document that was highlighted, and sure enough, it was a warrant issued by Diano.

The densely written text above details the procurement and transportation arrangements for several batches of goods.

The document states that the goods will be transported from the wasteland in the northern suburbs, stamped and released at the Brotherhood's checkpoint, and finally sent to a luxurious den of iniquity called "Black Swan Pavilion" in the far north of the district.

Information about the Black Swan Pavilion quickly flashed through Xilun's mind.

On the surface, this place is a high-class club for dignitaries and extraordinary people to rest, but in reality, it is a huge underground hub.

Many shady forces, especially those dealing in high-purity, extraordinary materials and contraband, like to meet here.

The reason is simple: the Black Swan Pavilion is backed by a complex and secretive network of forces, making it extremely safe. Even members of the Metropolitan Police Department rarely dare to cause trouble there.

Xilun stroked his chin thoughtfully, a cold smile curving his lips:

"I see, that old fox finally couldn't hold back anymore. I understand."

He glanced at the time annotation.

According to the schedule, the shipment has already begun and will arrive at the Brotherhood's territory in about twenty days.

After a moment's thought, Xilun made up his mind.

After closing the document about Diano, Celen quickly flipped through a few routine administrative documents.

Because of the prior annotations and underlining by Rena and others, he found it particularly easy to handle.

The main issues were nothing more than a few: a fugitive murderer had escaped into the North District, and Xilun casually ordered, "Strengthen patrols, and kill anyone who resists." He also gave ruthless and efficient solutions to other disputes.

Until you turn to the last page, there is a record of factory workers employed in the jurisdiction.

Adhering to the so-called church's hypocritical ideals and following the Metropolitan Police Department's policy, it grandly proclaims "Stop Child Labor Exploitation."

Upon seeing this, Xilun's hand holding the pen suddenly paused.

His mind was uncontrollably filled with images of the chimney workers he had once seen in the slums of the South District.

Those children were only three or four years old. Because of their small size, they were forced to climb into the scorching chimney to clean up the accumulated ash. Many of them were choked or burned to death inside.

Xilun's eyes dimmed slightly, and he sighed almost imperceptibly.

In this messed-up world, the lives of ordinary people at the bottom of society are not even worth as much as a dog's.

He picked up a red pen and made heavy annotations on the document:

"For workers under the age of twelve, each factory and mine must request and report to their superiors, and can only hire them if the situation is verified to be correct."

As for wages, the amount paid will be equal to the amount of work done; anyone who dares to withhold wages will be severely punished according to the regulations.

Meanwhile, on a bustling back street in the northern district.

Inside a private room of a high-class tavern, former factory manager Diano was attending a secret party.

He was drunk, his face flushed, and the people sitting in the private room were all his old confidants from his time at the Seven Seas Processing Plant.

The atmosphere at the party was lively.

A trusted aide with a scar on his face, holding a wine glass, started to jeer, emboldened by the alcohol:

"Old Factory Director! Don't be fooled by the fact that that young upstart, Xilun, holds the title of Governor and is in charge of overseeing the overall situation."

But that kid only gets beaten up and goes crazy in the yard all day long, he doesn't know anything about management! Isn't it still up to you, sir, to carry out the actual tasks below?

In the hearts of us brothers, we recognize only you as the true governor!

Diano immediately put on a stern face, feigning anger, and reprimanded:

"What nonsense are you spouting! We're all serving the Governor now, so let's not bring up the past, lest we give others ammunition against us!"

However, a smug glint secretly flickered in his cloudy eyes.

He thought to himself, "Although this Xilun is a monster capable of killing extreme-level alien species, his foundation is still shallow."

As long as I firmly win over my old confidants and form a monolithic faction within the branch.

At that time, if Xilun wants to mobilize even a single soldier, he will have to go through me.

Even if he did suspect I'd made some minor changes to the accounts, for the sake of stability in the Northern District, he'd probably have to turn a blind eye and wouldn't dare to make things difficult for himself.

Diano took a sip of his cheap liquor, squinted, and asked, "Have any of you encountered any work-related problems lately?"

Someone immediately seized the opportunity to complain: "Old factory director, you don't know."

In order to expand, the fraternity's branch has begun to recruit new members on a large scale.

The regulations stipulated that these clueless new recruits were given the same duties and pay as us veterans who had risked our lives!

This Governor of West London really doesn't appreciate the hard work of us old folks at all.

At the very least, they should promote us to management so our work can be easier.

Diano, who was just wondering how to further win over this group of people, immediately lowered his voice upon hearing this and pretended to be righteous, saying:

"That's simple. After all, you are veterans who have shed blood for the branch, so naturally you should have some privileges."

Later, I'll use my authority to reassign you to easier jobs like patrolling and guarding the warehouse, while you still get paid and maybe even some extra allowances.

But you should keep this to yourselves and not spread it around outside.

Sure enough, as soon as the group below heard about this good thing, they immediately started praising the old factory director for his righteousness and shouting "Long live the old factory director!"

Diano leaned back on the sofa, nodding with a smile as he enjoyed the gesture.

He was certain that even if the Brotherhood wanted to expand, it couldn't expand much by Siron alone; they would eventually have to rely on these experienced old men who knew the ropes.

Holding this core group firmly in his hands, securing his position as the second most powerful figure in the Brotherhood branch, and secretly raking in money—it's quite a wonderful way to spend the rest of his life.

When the party ended, Dean had drunk his fill and staggered out of the pub.

He froze as soon as he reached the cold, gloomy street corner.

Amidst the swirling snowflakes, a familiar black sedan stood quietly parked outside.

Diano sobered up a bit instantly, looked around warily, and seeing that no one was around, he quickly walked over, opened the car door, and got in.