Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

As the vehicle slowly drove in, when it came time to check the delivery order, Diano quickly approached the workshop and said to the employee in charge of inspection in an unquestionable tone, "What's going on? Why are you so late?"

The employee truthfully reported to the manager: "Factory manager, these vehicles just came from the barren mountains. Some of them contain our own supplies, and some are going to cross the border."

Diano's eyes darted around, and he immediately said:

"This is a crucial matter that the Governor-General is personally responsible for approving. It cannot be overlooked. You may all step down and let me handle it personally."

The employee paused, looked down at the delivery slip and saw that Xilun's signature was indeed very prominent in red. He then nodded and said:

"Okay, then I'll leave it to you, factory manager."

After saying that, he told the others to disperse and go about their other business.

As the bystanders left, Diano's lips curled into a cold smile.

Meanwhile, Xiren had already returned to his warm and spacious house.

He glanced at the ticking brass clock on the wall; it was almost time.

He took off his trench coat, picked up a high-quality, extraordinary whetstone from the table, and began to meticulously sharpen the tip of the heavy alloy spear.

The grating sound of metal scraping echoed in the quiet room.

After battling the armored turtle underwater and undergoing several intense morning training sessions, the tip of my spear has become somewhat rough.

Rena walked in carrying a steaming cup of black tea, her cool face appearing somewhat blurred in the steam.

She silently put down her teacup and reached out to take the whetstone from Xilun's hand to do it for her.

"Sit down and rest." Xiren didn't hand her the gun, but continued what he was doing. "I'm better at handling these bloody tasks myself."

Rena obediently sat down on a chair nearby, placing her hands on her knees, as quiet as a statue.

As Siren gently felt the gun tip regain its deadly sharpness with his fingers, he suddenly asked, "Rena, where was your family from before?"

Rena hesitated noticeably, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, as if touched upon some distant memory. After a moment, she whispered:

"Over there at Moon Lake."

Xilun narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

Moon Lake is located in the far western part of the North District.

The Brotherhood's branch is in the east, separated from the Iron Fist Gang's territory to the west, and further west is Moon Lake.

That's a wonderful place, with lush vegetation and abundant water, mostly home to the estates of nobles and wealthy merchants.

"Who else is in the family?" Xiren continued to ask casually.

"That's all." Rena's answer was brief and curt, her voice filled with a suppressed stillness.

Xilun didn't press further. Judging from the girl's demeanor and reserved nature, she had clearly experienced some extremely tragic family tragedy, which led her to fall from the prosperous Moon Lake to this filthy eastern slum to serve others.

He retracted the barrel of the gun, the mechanism making a crisp click, and disguised it again as an inconspicuous black umbrella.

"Since you're all alone, just stay here and work hard. As long as you don't have any ulterior motives, there's always a place for you to make a living in this branch. No one will dare to bully you," Xilun said calmly, but his tone carried an undeniable authority.

The woman blinked, and a complex emotion seemed to flash in her eyes, which were as calm as an ancient well. She nodded silently, her lips moving slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she restrained herself and swallowed all her words.

A moment later, Xilun glanced at the precise mechanical watch on his wrist, stood up, picked up his black umbrella, walked to the door, and said to the butler who had been waiting in the corridor, "Butler, can you drive?"

The butler immediately straightened his back and nodded respectfully, saying, "Sir, I used to drive a car in the South District for a few years."

Xiren draped his trench coat back over his shoulders, the black hem fluttering in the night wind, his voice as cold as ice:

"Get the car ready and take me out."

The night was like a huge black curtain, completely covering the rugged, desolate roads in the northern district.

A fine, cold rain began to fall from the sky, the raindrops pattering on the bare branches of the roadside trees.

Diano wrapped his heavy wool coat tighter around himself and sat in the passenger seat of the second truck in the convoy.

The carriage was filled with the pungent smell of diesel fuel and cheap tobacco.

He was going to ask that mysterious woman at the Black Swan Pavilion for the final payment. Such a large sum of money couldn't be entrusted to someone else, so he naturally had to go there personally.

Moreover, as the factory manager, he could use his position to look after the convoy along the way. If something went wrong and the patrol team stopped him, he would be in deep trouble and face utter ruin.

The steam wagon's engine roared under strain as it rolled over muddy puddles, splashing up large amounts of murky mud.

The vehicle slowed down as it approached a secluded street, finally coming to a stop with a screeching screech of brakes.

"What's going on? Why did you stop the car!" Diano was on edge, immediately rolled down the window, and shouted at the driver.

"Manager, the Broken Bone Gang's stronghold checkpoint is ahead." The driver pointed to the few pale gas lamps lit up next to the roadblock ahead.

Diano frowned.

Once you pass this checkpoint, you'll be almost at the boundary where the Black Swan Pavilion will be located.

He pushed open the car door, jumped out through the muddy puddles, and looked up.

Several gang members armed with muskets stood in front of the checkpoint, while a man clad in silver armor stood in the center.

The armor gleamed coldly in the gaslight. The man was burly, his face mostly obscured by the shadow of his helmet, exuding an unassailable majesty.

Diano cursed inwardly, realizing that this was not the same fat man who had been bribed to handle the verification.

It seemed the Shattered Bone Gang had also strengthened its defenses. He immediately put on a fawning smile and rubbed his hands together as he went to greet them.

"Who goes there? Passing through the Broken Bone Gang's territory in the middle of the night?"

The silver-armored man spoke coldly, his voice coming through the metal mask, sounding dull and oppressive.

"You've worked hard, sir. We're on the same side, on the same side."

Dean approached with a grin, respectfully handing over the pre-prepared customs documents with both hands. "Sir, please take a look. This is our Brotherhood's truck."

The silver-armored man took the document, nodded slightly in the dim light, and glanced at the seal on it:

"You came from the barren mountains? Things haven't been peaceful there these past few days."

He continued reading, then suddenly his gaze froze, and his finger stopped at the very bottom of the paper.

There, in Xilunna's extremely eye-catching, flamboyant signature, hangs prominently.

The silver-armored man raised an eyebrow in surprise: "Such an ordinary cargo manifest, yet it bears the name of your new governor of the Northern District?"

He casually folded the document, his tone carrying a hint of deeper meaning:

"I heard that your Governor of Xilun came from the slums of the South District. It is incredible that he has accomplished so much in such a short time, killing several powerful enemies and even single-handedly defeating an extreme-level alien. He is indeed a remarkable person."

Diano nodded repeatedly, his smile contorted into a forced expression, like a dried chrysanthemum.

"Of course, the Governor's strength is overwhelming, and we, the entire Brotherhood, admire him to the skies."

The silver-armored man handed the document back to Diano and waved his hand, saying:

"According to the rules, there should have been a mandatory unpacking and inspection process later on."

However, since the goods were personally endorsed by the Governor of West London, there shouldn't be any trouble.

"Consider it giving your governor face, let them pass."

Upon hearing this, Diano was overjoyed and secretly congratulated himself.

The name Xilun is indeed a useful shield.

He bowed again and said obsequiously, "Thank you for your kindness, sir."

He turned and strode into the car, banging on the door and yelling at the driver, "Hurry up, get in the aisle! Don't dawdle!"

Four heavy steam wagons roared to life again, slowly making their way through the checkpoint in a line.

The man in silver armor stood by the roadside, arms crossed, watching the truck drive past.

Just as the third truck passed by, his gaze inadvertently fell on the road.

He looked at the ground with a puzzled expression, his brows gradually furrowing.

These vehicles rolled heavily over the muddy road, leaving deep ruts than those left by ordinary trucks carrying daily necessities.

Based on his years of experience setting up checkpoints, this was definitely not an ordinary weight of rice.

"Wait!" the silver-armored man shouted instinctively and strode forward.

Diano, sitting in the passenger seat, froze instantly, his heart feeling as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand.

He gritted his teeth and had no choice but to make the driver stop again.

The silver-armored man walked up to the second vehicle, placed one hand on the sword at his waist, and said coldly, "This thing, the weight is wrong, isn't it overweight?"

Without waiting for Diano's explanation, he went straight to the back of the carriage and yanked open the heavy rain curtain.

Diano was sweating profusely, and his hand had already stealthily reached for the pepper-box pistol in his pocket.

If the other party uncovers the bottom layer, he will have no choice but to kill them to silence them and force his way through.

The silver-armored man casually rummaged through the layers of burlap sacks on the surface, grabbed a handful of white rice, and then looked at the bucket of soybean oil next to him. It was indeed the goods mentioned in the document.

"The weight is too much; the tire tracks are so deep you could sink your feet in."

The silver-armored man dusted off his hands, not continuing to search deeper, but turned to look at Diano, holding up five fingers, "You know the rules, overweight damages the road, pay an extra five pounds."

When Diano heard this, he felt as if he had been granted a pardon.

His nerves, which were so taut they were about to snap, relaxed instantly, and upon hearing this, he let out a long sigh of relief.

Fortunately, it was only for the sake of making money.

He immediately replied, "Of course, of course, I will obey your orders, sir."

He hurriedly pulled five one-pound bills from his pocket and respectfully stuffed them into the silver-armored man's hand.

After paying the money, the car finally drove away from the Broken Bone Gang's checkpoint and continued its journey in the cold rain.

Beyond this area, we will soon be approaching the wilderness on the edge of the city.

It was late at night, and the surrounding area was sparsely populated. Even the chirping of insects was suppressed by the rain, and the area was extremely desolate.

The convoy struggled to crawl along the muddy woodland road.

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes, and the immense inertia caused Diano's head to slam hard against the windshield.

"Are you fucking crazy? Can't you drive?!" Diano angrily covered his forehead and cursed.

"Factory manager, look ahead..." the driver pointed ahead in a panic.

Through the rain-blurred car window, Dean saw that in the distance, in the middle of the road, a huge, withered tree, as thick as a person's embrace, had fallen down and completely blocked the narrow road.

He frowned, a vague unease rising in his heart.

The tree's fracture marks were extremely smooth, making it seem as if it had been blown down by the wind.

But he had no choice but to order, "Take a few men and go down there to move the tree!"

As soon as the car came to a stop and the men who had accompanied it were about to jump out, Diano caught a glimpse of a black steam sedan quietly parked in the shadow of a clump of bushes by the roadside.

He stared in astonishment, wondering why a car would be parked in this desolate place.

Moreover, the engine was still running, and the exhaust pipe was emitting wisps of white smoke, clearly indicating that they were waiting for someone here.

Inside the black sedan, Xilun sat in the wide, soft leather back seat, his face calm as he looked through the water-drenched window at the truck parked in front of him, his deep eyes thoughtful.

In the driver's seat, the butler lowered his voice and said, "Sir, the person has arrived. Should we have the men...?"

Xilun slightly raised his hand to stop him, and nodded lightly, saying, "Wait in the car for a while."

Immediately, he pushed open the car door, opened the black umbrella, and walked step by step towards the truck, his leather shoes wading through the muddy puddles.

Diano stared intently at the car, and when the person holding the black umbrella stepped out, his expression froze instantly.

When he saw that young face that exuded endless coldness, cold sweat poured down his forehead like a waterfall, and his heart almost stopped at that moment.

As soon as Xilen walked up to the truck, he looked up, his eyes fixed on Diano in the passenger seat with eyes that seemed to look at a dead man, and shouted sharply:

"Diano, get down here! Stop embarrassing yourself up there!"

The sound, imbued with the powerful energy of an expert at the pinnacle of power, pierced through the rain, causing Diano's eardrums to ache.

Diano was completely dumbfounded and immediately sensed that something terrible was about to happen. The extreme fear made his legs go weak.

But he was, after all, a cunning old fox who had been navigating the underworld for many years. At this critical moment of life and death, he forced himself to maintain a semblance of composure, barely managing to keep his expression steady and maintain a natural smile.

He pushed open the car door, scrambled out, and feigned surprise, saying:

"Oh, Your Excellency? What brings you here so late at night? Is there some urgent business?"

Xiren stood under the umbrella, a mocking smirk playing on his lips:

"I'm curious, what are you, the old factory director who should be sleeping at the branch office, doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Diano gave a wry smile, rubbed his hands, and explained with an extremely troubled and honest expression:

"It's like this, sir. This shipment was sponsored by an old friend of mine, and we have a very good relationship."

Unfortunately, this shipment was extremely important to him. Since I didn't have much work to do that night, I volunteered to escort it for a part of the journey.

I'll go back immediately once I've safely delivered it.

As you know, subordinates can sometimes be unreliable.

"Is that so?" Xilun's smile grew colder, his gaze sweeping across the back of the carriage like a knife. "What kind of precious goods are these that warrant your personal attention?"

Just then, eight or nine men wearing raincoats jumped out of the back of several trucks behind them.

These were all menacing-looking individuals, their eyes scanning left and right like those of jackals.

They clearly sensed that Xilun's arrival was hostile, and each of them had already discreetly placed their hands on the weapons at their waists.

When the cloak was blown open by the night wind, the gleaming reflection of the fine armor inside could be clearly seen.

Xilun's gaze swept over the mercenaries, and he became completely certain of his decision.

The guard consisted of nine people, three of whom had extremely long and even breaths, clearly indicating that they were skilled individuals who had reached the level of a first-tier baptized.

The cost of transporting these nine people for more than twenty days, including their food, drink, and other necessities along the way, as well as the high commissions, would be at least tens of pounds, even higher than the profit from four cartloads of ordinary rice!

If it were just ordinary daily necessities, it would be absolutely impossible, and impossible, for them to afford such a grand display.

He wouldn't believe it for a second unless there was something seriously fishy going on.