Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The dim yellow glow of the gas streetlights pierced through the thick fog and spilled onto the bluestone pavement.

Siren pulled up his collar and strode quickly through the slum streets.

This is the heart of the Lower Town, where the buildings on both sides of the street are significantly more imposing than those in the dock area, with huge gears and steam pipes exposed on the walls, emitting a deep rumble.

In the distance stands a church with a soaring spire, its stained-glass windows casting a halo of light—a place where the rich and middle class seek solace.

Xilun's gaze did not linger there, but turned to the other side.

Next to a tavern with a brass sign stands a heavy stone hall.

Two burly men stood at the entrance, their waists bulging, clearly carrying weapons.

That's the fraternity's headquarters.

Xilun stopped and took a deep breath of the air, which was filled with the smell of coal smoke and alcohol, to calm his slightly accelerated heartbeat.

He didn't have a good impression of the fraternity, and this feeling mostly came from Morgan—the overseer who swaggered around the docks and was also a minor leader in the fraternity.

Just then, Xilun's pupils contracted slightly.

Two figures were walking from the other end of the street, heading straight for the lobby.

Walking in front was a middle-aged man, wearing a respectable gray woolen overcoat, with his hair slicked back and shiny—it was Morgan.

Following behind him was a young man in his early twenties, wearing a brand-new leather jacket, with an arrogant expression and a frivolous look in his eyes.

The young man seemed to be saying something, and Morgan turned his head, revealing a kind smile that Siron had never seen before.

The two of them swaggered into the lobby, one after the other.

Xilun stood in the shadows, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the coins in his pocket.

He exhaled a breath of stale air, waited a moment, and then followed.

The lobby was carpeted in dark red, and the air was filled with the smell of expensive cigars.

Behind the counter directly opposite the door sat a young woman. She was wearing a tight-fitting off-the-shoulder skirt and trimming her nails.

Hearing footsteps, she smiled politely.

"Business consultation or appointment?"

Xilun walked to the counter, placed his hands on the counter, and spoke calmly.

"I'd like to ask if they're still hiring supervisors for the Greywater River area."

The woman paused for a moment while manicuring her nails.

She said gently:

"Do you have a letter of introduction?"

Xilun shook his head.

"Is there a guarantor?"

Xilun shook his head again.

The woman frowned, looking somewhat troubled.

"That's difficult, young man. This isn't a place that hires porters. Turn left after you leave, and you might have a chance at the docks."

She pondered for a moment, then raised the finger adorned with the ring and casually pointed to the deep, dark corridor on her right.

"Of course, you can also go and see Lord Yuri. He is in charge of dock affairs, but he is very busy and has a bad temper."

Xilun nodded, thanked him, and turned to walk down the corridor.

The leather boots made a dull thud as they stepped on the wooden floor.

The office door at the end of the corridor was ajar, and voices could be heard coming from inside.

Xilun stopped at the door.

The door was wide open, and behind the large mahogany desk sat a slender middle-aged man, looking down at the documents.

At his desk, Morgan was bowing deeply, speaking with a forced smile. The young man in the leather jacket stood beside him, looking somewhat reserved.

In the corner of the room, by the window, stood a man in a dark blue police uniform, a cigarette between his fingers, his expression obscured by the swirling smoke.

It's Seren.

The policeman I'd seen in Mentor Ryan's office before.

"...Lord Yuri, my nephew is young, but he is strong."

Morgan's voice came through the crack in the door, tinged with ingratiation.

"He's been studying at the boxing gym for a while, and he even mastered the feeling of qi a couple of days ago. If you give him a chance, I guarantee he can keep those laborers in Greywater River completely under his control."

The man behind the desk didn't speak; he simply turned a page of a document.

Just then, he seemed to realize something, raised his head, and looked past Morgan's shoulder, his gaze fixed on the doorway.

Those were a pair of eyes as cold and sinister as a venomous snake.

"Hey you at the door, come in."

Xilun felt a chill run down his spine and pushed open the door to enter.

Several pairs of eyes in the room immediately focused on him.

Morgan turned his head and saw Celen. The smile on his face froze, then turned into an undisguised look of astonishment and anger.

"What are you here for?"

The man named Yuri put down the documents, interlaced his fingers on the table, and spoke in a low voice, yet with an undeniable air of authority.

Xilun walked to the desk and bowed slightly.

"Mr. Yuri, this is Xiren. I'm currently studying under Instructor Ryan at the Iron Cross Fighting Club and would like to inquire about the requirements for the position of Greywater River Supervisor."

"The Iron Cross?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

Before he could even speak, Morgan had already stood up first.

"Lord Yuri, this kid used to be a laborer moving shipping containers for me. I'll handle him!"

He turned his head and glared fiercely at Xilen, his chest heaving violently.

"A lowly porter, who knows where he stole some money to learn boxing for a couple of days, dares to come here and cause trouble!"

"Get out! This isn't a place for you!"

Before he could finish speaking, Morgan suddenly stretched out his right hand, his five fingers forming a claw, and grabbed at Xilen's collar with a gust of wind, clearly intending to throw him out the door.

His movements were swift, with a subtle flow of air emanating from his fingertips, clearly indicating that he was serious.

Xilun's eyes turned cold.

Just as Morgan's hand was about to touch his collar, he moved.

Xilun took a half step forward with his left foot, his spine tightened like a large bow, and his right hand instantly rose, his forearm muscles suddenly bulged, and a layer of fine black net-like texture faintly appeared under his skin.

"Bang!"

A dull thud of flesh colliding echoed through the office.

Celen's forearm, like an iron rod, precisely blocked Morgan's wrist.

The gust of air rippled and shook the documents on the table.

Both of them jolted simultaneously and took a step back.

The floor made a teeth-grinding scraping sound.

Morgan steadied himself, his eyes widening as he stared intently at Xilen, his face filled with disbelief.

His wrist was trembling slightly, and a piercing pain seeped from between his bones.

How is that possible?

Just a month ago, this kid was a laborer who could be beaten and scolded at will. How could he possibly have such power?

Humiliation and anger surged to his head, Morgan's face turned a deep purplish-red, his blood surging, and he was about to pounce again.

That's enough.

A detached voice rang out.

Yuri sat in the chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

"Move again, and I'll dump you all into the cement river and sink you there."

The voice wasn't loud, but it was like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing Morgan's anger.

He stood frozen in place, his face turning pale and then flushed, but in the end he didn't dare to move again, only staring at Xilun with resentful eyes.