Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xiren stared blankly at the corpse on the ground.

He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket, slowly wiped his right hand, then folded the handkerchief and put it away.

He turned around.

The sunlight outside shone on his white clothes, casting his tall and slender figure.

Kusso and several of his men were standing in the courtyard, awaiting his orders.

"From now on."

Xilun's voice was as calm as still water.

"Take over all of the Broken Bone Gang's territories, including resource gathering points and on-site factories."

"Recruit manpower, retain the old troops who are willing to surrender, and strive for a smooth transition."

He paused.

"Also, send a telegram to headquarters and ask them to send a group of managers over."

Kusso straightened his back and nodded emphatically.

"yes!"

The group obeyed and left, their footsteps echoing throughout the courtyard.

Siren stood alone, his gaze slowly sweeping over Grossa's bedroom.

This is a small room.

The furnishings were simple, even shabby. There was a hardboard bed, an old wooden cabinet, and a few chairs with peeling paint.

This is the residence of the leader of the North District Shattered Bone Gang.

Grossa had controlled the Bonebreaker Gang for over twenty years, wielding immense power in the North District with hundreds of men under his command, yet his residence was no different from that of an ordinary foreman.

Xilun walked to the wooden cabinet and opened the door.

There wasn't anything valuable in the closet. A few changes of old clothes, a bottle of cheap liquor, and two pairs of worn-out leather boots.

But at the very bottom, under a tattered overcoat, was a sheepskin book.

Xilun pulled it out.

Turn it over.

The cover had four characters written in bold handwriting.

The rhythm of rock and soil!

Xilun's eyes narrowed slightly.

He quickly flipped through a few pages.

This is a breathing technique suitable for second-tier extraordinary individuals, focusing on inhaling the breath of the earth to strengthen the skin and flesh.

The records in the booklet are incomplete, as if Grossa wrote them down from memory. In some places, the handwriting is so illegible that it is almost impossible to read, and some paragraphs are simply missing.

But the core concept and operating procedure are clear.

Through a specific breathing rhythm, the earth's essence contained in the surrounding soil and rocks is guided into the body, adhering to the skin and flesh, making the body's texture approach the solidity of rock and soil.

This isn't a superior method, but it's practical.

Xilun put the booklet away.

Then his gaze fell on two bottles at the bottom of the cabinet.

The bottle is small, about the size of a fist, and sealed with wax.

Xilun unscrewed the bottle cap, and several pills rolled out. They were blood red, round like pearls, and emitted a strong rusty smell.

He picked one up and brought it closer to examine it.

Inside the pill, faint flowing patterns could be seen, as if blood was slowly circulating within it.

"Butler, what is this?"

The butler, who had somehow followed them in, peeked in and replied:

"This is a Blood Pill. It is made from the essence and blood of an extraordinary relic and can replenish qi and blood, nourishing the body."

After a moment's thought, he added, "Refining Blood Pills requires a special place. If I'm not mistaken, it should be done at Moon Lake."

Xilun nodded slightly.

Blood pill.

He suddenly remembered something: the Earth Blood Bat Dragon.

The ancient alien species that he killed in the wondrous snow mountain had three drops of essence blood containing terrifying energy that it still keeps safely in his jade bottle.

If those three drops of essence blood were used to refine a blood pill.

Xilun's eyes flickered.

I'll try to visit Moon Lake sometime.

He put the two bottles, along with the remaining blood pills inside, into his pocket, and then rummaged around on the bed for a while.

Under the pillow.

He found his Soul-Suppressing Nail.

The small, golden nails still bore traces of Grossa's dried blood.

Xilun sighed, wiped the nail on the hem of his clothes, and examined it carefully.

In good condition.

He was indeed worried that Grossa would throw it away. The Soul-Suppressing Nail was a treasure inspired by the Sacred Tree, and if it was lost, there would be no second one.

But he had no choice but to do it.

During last night's decisive battle, he had to ensure that Grossa could not return in a short period of time.

What if Grossa returns after removing the nails and happens to run into me while I'm taking the Rejuvenation Potion and in my most vulnerable state for breakthrough?

That would mean all our efforts were in vain.

So, risking losing the Soul-Suppressing Nail, he threw it at the last moment, driving it into the crevice of Grossa's spine.

As it turned out, he made the right bet.

Grossa did not discard the Soul-Suppressing Nail; instead, he treasured it and kept it safe.

The old man never knew until his death that what he thought was a bargain was actually keeping Xilun's belongings for one night.

Xilun carefully put away the Soul-Suppressing Nail.

He took one last look at Grossa's body.

The old man huddled in the corner, his posture contorted, his face frozen in a final, ferocious rage.

A life spanning over seventy years.

Decades of fierce battles in the martial arts world.

It ended with a young man fifty years his junior.

Xilun turned and walked out of the bedroom.

The midday sun fell on his shoulders.

The white clothes swayed gently in the breeze.

After tidying everything up, Xilun returned to his mansion.

The study, which had been damaged in the Battle of Grossa, was temporarily unusable, with broken glass and cracked planks yet to be cleaned up. So, Siren temporarily moved his office to his bedroom.

The housekeeper brought in a peach wood desk and set up a pale yellow table lamp.

The curtains were half-open, allowing the afternoon light to cut in at an angle, drawing a line of light and shadow on the table.

Xiren sat behind the table, flipping through the mountain of documents piled up in front of him.

These documents were all prepared and annotated in advance by Rena and Rod.

Important paragraphs were underlined in red, and suggestions were written in pencil where he needed to make decisions.

It is very efficient.

Xilun flipped through them one by one, occasionally signing his name and sometimes writing a few lines of comments in the blank spaces.

Most transactions are not complicated.

Rena and Rod have already handled most of the daily operations, such as personnel allocation, material distribution, factory scheduling, and dock duty. He only needs to stamp the document.

But one report made him stop writing.

That was the inventory list of the Broken Bones Gang's territory submitted by Kusso.

The inventory list is very long.

The entire seven-page document was densely packed with a list of all the assets under the Broken Bone Gang's name:

Three resource collection points, two on-site factories, a small dock, five blocks of rental rights, and several warehouses and safe houses scattered throughout the North District.

Xilun's fingers slid slowly across the paper.

From a small corner of the Iron Fist Gang to now having swallowed up the entire fortune of the Shattered Bone Gang.

The Brotherhood's influence in the North District more than doubled overnight.

He rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

With more territory comes more problems.

More staff are needed to manage it.

More resources are needed to keep it running.

A stronger military force is also needed to deter those who covet it.

The news of the destruction of the Shattered Bone Gang has not yet spread completely, but other forces in the North District will eventually hear the news.

At that time, it remains to be seen whether they will choose to wait and see or take advantage of the situation.

Xilun put down his pen and leaned back in his chair.

His gaze pierced through the half-open curtains, fixed on the setting sun outside the window.

We should start thinking about providing financial assistance.

In this world, an extraordinary individual without a family background has only two paths to obtain cultivation resources.

The first rule is to go and steal it yourself.

For example, the things he did in Wonderland.

The second point is to find a powerful backer and use your abilities to exchange for their resources.

This is what is known as the "funding" system.

Many extraordinary individuals from commoner backgrounds choose to accept patronage from a noble family.

The family provides breathing techniques, potions, weapons, and intelligence, while those sponsored are required to serve the family and complete various tasks.

Previously, Siren had been barely making ends meet through his training, relying on the support of the fight club and his teacher, Lund.

But once you reach the second order, the situation is completely different.

Second-tier breathing techniques, second-tier combat skills, and second-tier extraordinary relics.

The scarcity and price of these items have increased more than tenfold compared to the first tier.

Not to mention, third-tier potions.

Xilun's brows furrowed involuntarily.

Third-order, aberrant.

That was a watershed moment in the entire extraordinary world.

Once you cross that threshold, you become a dominant force in the region.

In the lower city, if there is a Tier 3 Extraordinary being in charge, they can almost dominate an area.

The Brotherhood controls White Raven Wharf and several plots of land, and many governors are only second-tier extraordinary beings.

Tier 3 fighters are extremely rare; the entire Iron Cross Fighting Club has only one Tier 3 fighter, Lord Lund.

The Ocheri family, a renowned baronial family in the North District, only has three Tier 3 Extraordinary individuals.

As for the magic potion needed to advance to the third rank.

Even many baronial families might not be able to afford it.

Those kinds of things are either family heirlooms or require an astronomical sum of money to purchase from a very limited number of channels.

Xilun pondered to himself.

Given the Brotherhood's current size and resources, it's virtually impossible for them to gather enough Tier 3 potions on their own.

Therefore, he needs a beneficiary with sufficient background and resources.

A willing, capable partner whose interests do not conflict with yours.

Several names flashed through Xilun's mind.

The four major forces in the North District.

At least on the surface, there are no third-tier extraordinary individuals.

There aren't many options left.

Xilun's thoughts fell on a name.

The Tusol family.

Viscount, a rank higher than baron.

It has a deeper cultural heritage and more abundant resources.

He vaguely remembered that after he began to make a name for himself, he received friendly offers from several families.

It appears that the Tusol family was among them.

At that time, he had not yet reached the stage where he needed financial assistance, so he did not respond seriously.

But now, perhaps it's time.

Xilun put the idea aside for the time being.

The matter of providing funding is not urgent; it requires careful consideration.

There are two more urgent matters to attend to.

First, digest the new power you gained after breaking through to the second tier and familiarize yourself with the changes in your body as soon as possible.

Second, breathing techniques.

He has already mastered the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" to the fifth level of perfection, but that is, after all, a first-level technique.

Although the foundation is extremely solid, to continue moving up to the second level, a higher level of breathing technique is needed to support it.

Professor Lund promised to send him four types of second-order breathing techniques.

Including the book "Rhythm of Rock and Soil" that he found in Grossa's cabinet today, he now has a total of five books for reference.

But these are not enough.

Xilun sighed softly.

The road ahead is still long.

But at least, he has taken a crucial step.

He closed the file and pushed it aside.

The sky outside the window had already darkened.

The night sky in the northern district is mostly starless. Black smoke and steam from factory chimneys obscure most of the dome, leaving only a pale moon hanging through the gaps in the clouds.

Xilun stood up and stretched.

The bones emitted subtle clicking sounds, each one crisp and melodious, like precise gears meshing perfectly.

He walked out of the bedroom, through the hallway, and into the front hall.

The butler was directing several servants to clean up the ruins in the study.

Upon seeing Xilun emerge, the butler immediately went to greet him.

"Your Excellency, dinner is ready. And you are..."

"I'm not eating anymore."

Xilun shook his head.

"I'm going out for a walk, don't follow me."

The butler paused slightly, hesitated, and finally bowed his head in agreement.

"Yes."

Xilun pushed open the gates of the mansion and walked alone into the night in the northern district.

The night breeze, carrying the distinctive smell of coal smoke from the industrial area, brushed against his cheeks, slightly cool and with a hint of bitterness.

He walked along the gravel path for a while, then turned onto a more secluded dirt road.

Sparse shrubs and a few crooked old trees lined both sides of the road, their leaves rustling in the wind.

In the distance, the noise from the direction of the Broken Bone Gang's base could be faintly heard; it was Kusuo and his men taking over the territory and taking stock of supplies overnight.

But these voices were quickly drowned out by the sound of the wind.

Xiren walked alone.

The pace was slow.

It didn't feel like they were rushing, it felt more like they were taking a stroll.

So much has happened these past few days.

From the wonderland of the South District to the fierce battles of the North District, from the life-or-death struggle with Grossa to breaking through to the second tier after taking the Rejuvenation Potion.

He barely had time to catch his breath.

Now, we can finally stop and have some peace and quiet.

He walked across a hillside.

Grossa's grave is nearby.

Following his instructions, his men prepared Grossa's body simply and buried it on a small hill behind the camp.

There was no tombstone, no inscription, just a low mound of yellow earth.

Xiren didn't stop; he continued walking forward.

We walked for a long time until it became completely quiet.

There were no human voices, no footsteps.

There was only the wind and the occasional low cry of a night owl in the distance.

Moonlight filtered through gaps in the clouds, bathing the entire hillside in a pale, silvery glow.

Siren stopped under an old oak tree.

He gazed at the moon quietly for a while.

The moon was very round and bright.

Like a cold, indifferent eye, it overlooks this land filled with the smoke of gunpowder and bloodshed.

Quiet and peaceful.

I finally have some free time.

He pulled something out of his pocket: a bone whistle.

That was a token given to him by the Lady Crow.

The bone is grayish-white, smooth as jade, and has several fine patterns carved on it.

Xilun held the bone whistle in his hand and pondered for a moment.

Then he brought the bone whistle to his lips and blew it gently.

That was not a sound in the ordinary sense.

The melody emitted by the bone whistle was extremely subtle, as if someone in the far distance were plucking a string on the verge of breaking, trembling and sobbing.

Desolate and lifeless.

Like the last snow of a deep winter midnight, it silently covered the grave.

The melody spread through the air, passing through the wind, the shadows of the trees, and the moonlight.

Strangely, the patrol teams that occasionally passed by at the foot of the hill did not react at all, and even the most vigilant sentries did not raise their heads.

It seems that this melody only exists on a certain specific frequency.

Only a specific type of ear can detect it.

After Xilun finished blowing the bone whistle, he put it down.

He didn't look around; he just stood quietly under the oak tree, waiting.

The wind stopped.

The leaves no longer rustled.

The entire hillside fell into an unnatural silence, as if even the air had frozen.

One minute, two minutes.

Then, Xiren heard the sound of wings flapping in the air.

It's very light.

It wasn't the clumsy flapping of a bird's wings, but a smooth, almost silent gliding.

He raised his head.

Under the moonlight, a crow swept across the distant night sky.