Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

As Xilun walked along the cleared path, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he glanced at the crowd.

He saw Losas.

The manager, who once had the potential to take over the North District but ultimately bowed down in humiliation before him, was now standing in the crowd.

Like many ordinary Brotherhood members around him, Lothas bowed deeply with a complex yet helpless expression.

Xiren didn't linger. He turned his gaze away, walked through the corridor, and arrived at Yuri's office door.

He raised his hand and tapped three times on the heavy solid wood door with his knuckles.

There was no immediate response from inside. After a long while, a slightly tired but still steady voice finally came through.

"Come in."

Xilun pushed open the door and entered.

In the spacious office, the light was slightly dim. Behind the huge mahogany desk, Yuri was leaning over, holding a fountain pen, and quickly annotating a pile of thick documents.

His brow was furrowed, as if he had encountered some thorny problem.

Hearing footsteps, Yuri didn't even look up, and quickly gave the order:

"If it's an urgent matter from the North District, put it on the left side of my desk."

"If it's a mess at the docks, don't bother me, just hand it over to Haivier."

Xiren stopped and looked at the Brotherhood leader, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"Lord Yuri is such a busy man."

Xilun's voice echoed in the quiet office, "I finally managed to come back, and you didn't even have time to look up and greet me."

Upon hearing that familiar, slightly teasing voice, Yuri's hand holding the pen suddenly paused.

He suddenly looked up, a moment of stunned silence flashing in his eyes. When he saw who it was, his tense face instantly relaxed. He then casually tossed the pen onto the table, propped himself up on the table, and burst into laughter.

"Sirlen! You're back so early, kid?" Yuri walked around the desk, strode forward, and patted Sirlen on the shoulder heavily.

Xilun let him pat him, shrugged and said, "I sent you a letter several days in advance. The boss of the South District, you can't even afford to send a car to pick me up from the station."

Yuri patted his forehead, looking annoyed.

"Look at my memory. These past few days, my territory in the South District has been harassed by several small gangs. There are so many things to deal with, I just forgot about them all when I got busy."

Siren didn't continue the topic. He reached into the inside pocket of his trench coat, pulled out a document sealed in brown paper, and casually tossed it onto Yuri's desk.

"Originally, I planned to have my men bring over on the next bus a report on the development of the North District Brotherhood branch during this period, as well as detailed accounts of the acquisition of Iron Fist Gang assets."

But since I was going back anyway, it was just a convenient thing to do.

Yuri looked at the thick document, a look of extreme satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

He pointed to the leather sofa next to him, gesturing for Xilun to sit down, and then walked to the tea cabinet next to him and began to arrange the exquisite tea sets.

"What would you like to drink?" Yuri asked, turning his back to Xilun as he lit the alcohol lamp.

"Take the most expensive one." Celen leaned back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and savored the rare tranquility.

Yuri couldn't help but laugh and scold, "You little brat, you went to the North District to be a local tyrant, how come your mouth has become so picky?"

Even so, he still carefully took out an exquisite tin can from the deepest part of the cabinet, opened the lid, and very sparingly scooped out a tiny bit of dark brown tea leaves with a small wooden spoon.

The moment hot water was poured in, an indescribable fresh fragrance filled the entire office, as if sweeping away even the fatigue in the air.

Yuri handed a cup of tea to Xiren.

Xilun took it, gently blew away the floating tea foam, and tilted his head back to take a small sip.

The scalding hot tea slid down his throat and into his stomach, transforming into a warm current that instantly flowed throughout his body, bringing a sense of calm to Xilun's constantly tense mind.

"Excellent tea." Xilun opened his eyes, exclaimed in admiration, and then casually asked, "How much?"

Yuri, holding his cup, sat back in the boss's chair and proudly held up three fingers: "Thirty pounds."

Xilun was slightly taken aback; the price was indeed a bit outrageous.

"Thirty pounds a pound? That's not too outrageous, much better than those high-end red wines."

Yuri shook his head, a pained smile playing on his lips: "Thirty pounds, one ounce."

Xilun twitched the corner of his mouth, put down his teacup, thought seriously for a moment, then looked up at Yuri and said in an extremely calm tone, "Then pack me two pounds to take with me."

"puff--!"

Yuri suddenly spat out the mouthful of hot tea he had just taken a sip, splattering documents all over the table. He grabbed a handkerchief to wipe his mouth in a flustered manner, glaring and cursing:

"Two pounds? Do you think this is cabbage sold on the street? You might as well just move my entire office there, skin and bones!"

Xilun shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

"I don't want this. My house in the north district is much more comfortable than yours, and it has a front and back yard, which is very quiet."

At this point, Xilun seemed to remember something and said seriously:

"By the way, the butler you assigned to me in the North District last time was very efficient and easy to use."

Don't transfer him back anymore; let him stay with me and handle things.

Yuri paused in wiping the table, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

He pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "That old guy... he used to work directly for me."

Unfortunately, he was unlucky; he was the only son in his family, and he died of a strange disease.

From then on, he developed mental problems, became depressed all the time, was unable to accomplish anything significant, and made little progress in his extraordinary cultivation, which was completely wasted.

That's why I haven't promoted him yet. I've kept him as your deputy, so he'll at least have a job.

Upon hearing this, Xilun's eyes flickered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "It's a bit of a pity. He's a smart man."

He picked up his teacup and took another sip, then suddenly asked:

"By the way, does he have a name? I always call him Butler, which sounds weird."

I asked him once, but he absolutely refused to tell me.

Yuri sighed and shook his head, saying:

"Since he himself is unwilling to talk about it, there is no need to reopen old wounds."

Some names represent the past, and he doesn't want to mention them. Just call him "butler"; that's a relief for him.

Xiren wasn't one to delve into other people's painful pasts, so he nodded and stopped thinking about such trivial matters.

"I won't be staying in the South District for long this time. I'll leave after I finish the Snow Mountain Wonderland event."

Xilun leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on Yuri. "If there's anything else on your end that I can help you with, just say the word."

"I'll take on any challenge as long as it doesn't involve fighting a second-tier extraordinary individual one-on-one."

Yuri listened to Xilun's arrogant words, but instead of being angry, he was pleased. He pondered for a moment, then his expression became serious.

"The gang's higher-ups were extremely satisfied with the stuff you brought back from the wilderness last time, especially the bullets and shells, which were military contraband."

That shipment solved our urgent problem.

As for which powerful force might be following the trail, don't worry. I've already made arrangements. All the pressure is being handled by the Brotherhood headquarters; it won't implicate you, the Governor of the North."

Yuri paused, his gaze fixed intently on Xiren:

"Your branch in the North District is thriving now. I heard you've completely taken over the Iron Fist Gang's territory."

"Let me ask you, how long until you completely open up that underground trade route between the north and south?"

Siren leaned back on the sofa, interlacing his fingers on his knees, his tone extremely calm. "It's still early."

"At least, I will wait until I advance again, become a true second-tier extraordinary being, completely wipe out that mad dog of the Shattered Bone Gang, and turn the surrounding area into my own backyard before I will consider the next trade route."

Otherwise, forcing things forward now would only be doing the work for someone else.

Yuri frowned, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

"It seems like it'll be a long time coming. That old bastard Grossa is not someone to mess with."

He looked at Siron and said earnestly, "If you have any difficulties in the North District, just say the word. As long as the Brotherhood can provide it, I will not hesitate."

Xilun thought for a moment, then said in a serious tone:

"I do have a lot of difficulties. You know I have many enemies. Every day when I walk down the street, I'm always worried that some hot-tempered second-tier guy will suddenly jump out and try to kill me."

How about this: you assign me a mid-level knight-level bodyguard to protect me 24/7.

Yuri was amused and laughed, then retorted:

"Intermediate Knight? That's one of the best among the second-tier Rippers! You might as well just have me be your bodyguard!"

"Asking for such a huge amount? Do you think second-tier extraordinary individuals are like pork in the market?"

Xilun shook his head and said with a look of disdain, "That won't do. You're not a mid-level knight. You'd just be easy prey if you went."

The two chatted for a while longer in the office. Xilun then finished his tea in one gulp, stood up, and took his leave.

As I left Yuri's room, the arguing in the hall outside the corridor was still going on, and it seemed to be escalating.

When the red-faced gang members saw Xilun come out, their voices instantly became like ducks being choked, and they all made way for him.

They lowered their heads, not daring to speak, their expressions quickly shifting from anger to extreme respect and fear.

Xilun did not leave immediately as he had when he arrived.

He stopped in the middle of the crowd and coldly surveyed the surroundings.

"What's all this noise about?" Xiren's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority. "I heard it from Lord Yuri's office, even through two soundproof doors."

"Your place is the noisiest in the entire camp. Tell me, what's so noisy about it?"

A deathly silence fell over the crowd.

At this moment, Haiweier walked up from the back of the crowd, her face also looking rather unpleasant.

She walked up to Xilun, bowed slightly, and introduced him:

"Your Excellency, I'm sorry you had to witness this. It was actually just a dispute about future development ideas."

Haiweier pointed to a group of young people on the left, dressed in tight leather jackets and carrying heavy firearms at their waists, and said helplessly:

"Recently, the gang acquired a batch of new firearms. Some people feel that the extraordinary skills are too complicated to master, time-consuming and laborious, and there is always a risk of them going out of control and mutating."

They believed that no matter how hard one trained, unless one could reach the level of Lord Yuri, on the battlefield, it would be a matter of one shot.

"They felt that ascetic training was unnecessary, after all, not everyone has the talent to become like Lord Yuri."

Instead of wasting resources on buying elixirs, we should buy more good guns.

Upon hearing this, Xilun raised an eyebrow slightly.

He looked at the group of musketeers who were clutching their holsters tightly, their eyes darting around but also showing a hint of stubbornness.

"Just for this?" Xilun sneered, his voice filled with undisguised contempt.

"They're all too idle. They don't have enough talent to cultivate anything worthwhile, so they just waste their breath here, making all sorts of excuses."

Xilun took a sudden step forward, his violent blood and energy roaring within him, making the surrounding temperature seem to drop a few degrees.

"If you used all that energy for arguing on practicing breathing techniques, even if you only mastered the basics, you'd be no match for a human being capable of carrying a gun!"

Xilun looked down at the defiant young people and said coldly:

"I'm only twenty years old. Do you really think you're that much worse than me?"

"If you could calm down and train for a few more years, hardening your bones, would you still be afraid of these few fire pokers?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiren turned his head and glanced at Haivier beside him.

Give me a gun.

Heviel paused for a moment, but intimidated by Siren's imposing presence, she unhesitatingly drew the large-caliber revolver from her waist, turned the handle upside down, and handed it to Siren.

Xilun took the heavy revolver and skillfully disengaged the safety with his fingers.

The eyes of hundreds of people in the audience were fixed on Xilun's movements, wondering what the young governor was up to.

Instead of aiming at any target, Xiren slowly raised his left hand, opening his palm to face himself.

Then, he gripped the gun in his right hand and pressed the muzzle directly against the skin of his left palm.

A suppressed gasp erupted from the crowd, and Haiwei'er's eyes widened, instinctively wanting to step forward to stop them.

But Xilun acted faster than anyone else.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three deafening gunshots echoed through the enclosed hall. The immense recoil caused Xiren's right hand to tremble slightly, and the pungent smell of gunpowder instantly filled the air.

Everyone held their breath, staring intently at Xilun's left hand, expecting to see a bloody mess and shattered metacarpal bones.

However, a horrifying scene unfolded.

The three large-caliber lead bullets, powerful enough to pierce thick wooden planks, struck Xilen's palm skin as if hitting an indestructible, dark gold iron wall. A bluish-black sheen, like ripples on water, appeared on the skin's surface.

The bullet penetrated less than half an inch deep, getting stuck between those incredibly dense layers of muscle and fascia, unable to go any further.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, the muscles in Xilun's left palm began to twitch strangely.

The terrifying ability to repel and heal, which belonged to the "Golden Tortoise Cicada's Molting" alien talent, was pushed to its extreme by Xilun.

The muscles suddenly squeezed outwards.

"Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat."

Three lead bullets, already severely deformed and flattened like coins, were forced out of the skin and fell onto the hard stone floor with a crisp sound.

At the same time, with a "click," the cylinder of Xilun's right revolver spun, and three scorching hot cartridge cases were ejected, falling to the ground while emitting blue smoke.

With an indifferent expression, Xilun turned his left hand over and showed it to everyone.

On his palm, there was only a faint layer of bloodstains and three very shallow bullet holes that hadn't even bled much.

However, apart from that, no bones were damaged in the slightest.

What's even more chilling is that even this seemingly insignificant injury began to writhe and intertwine wildly around the edges of the wound with just a few breaths from Xilun.

In just a few seconds, the wound slowly healed, leaving only three light white patches.

The hall was deathly silent, save for the heavy breathing.

Those young people who had previously clamored that muskets were invincible were now pale-faced and their legs were trembling slightly.

Their prized firearms seemed like an absurd joke in the face of this young governor's physical body.