Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The night was deep, and the lights in the manor were dim.

The heavy curtains hung down, blocking out the last bit of sunlight from outside, leaving only a wisp of wind to sneak in through the gaps, causing the candlelight to flicker gently.

Rosselk lay flat on the bed with his eyes open, having no idea how long he had been lying there.

He should have been asleep.

These days, he needs sleep more than anyone else.

But as soon as you close your eyes, you will hear a voice in your ears—not the sharp, piercing whispers of hallucinations, but an ordinary greeting, like many, many years ago, and like many, many evenings after.

"Father, today's practice is over. I'm going back to rest now."

That was Ross's voice.

Calm, restrained, with a touch of youthful vigor that cannot be suppressed, yet never overstepping the bounds.

The child was more composed than his peers from a young age, and more like him. Whether it was the way he held the sword or the habit of slightly tucking his chin when he spoke, it was like a shadow copied from him.

Russell's Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes stung, but no tears came.

Sometimes, when the pain is extreme, a person can't even cry.

The youngest son, Robert, lost control and was shot dead on the spot.

The eldest son, Ross, died in the snowy mountains, and his body was never found.

Rox, a second-tier extraordinary being who accompanied them into the wonderland, also did not return alive.

In just a few months, it felt as if someone was slowly tearing flesh out of the most vulnerable part of his family.

The people outside were still comforting him, saying that the Ocelli family's foundation was still intact, that he wasn't completely ruined, that the dead couldn't be brought back to life, and that the living should always look forward.

Look ahead...

Rosselk slowly closed his eyes.

Who can tell him how to look forward?

Suddenly, a soft footstep sounded outside the door. The footsteps stopped at the door, hesitated for a moment, and then someone whispered, "Clan Chief."

Rosselk didn't move, but said hoarsely, "Speak."

"Guests have arrived outside, they say they are from the Tusol family."

The Tusol family.

Rosselk's brow furrowed slightly.

He naturally knew that name.

The Viscount family in the North District has risen extremely quickly. Although its roots are not the oldest, it is fierce and ruthless enough. Over the years, it has risen to its current height through trade, territory, blood and fire.

However, he and Tusol were not close friends.

A visit at this time is most likely to be bad news.

"Let them in."

A moment later, the door was pushed open from the outside, and a blast of even colder air rushed in.

Rosselke sat up, put on his coat, and his gaze fell on the young figure in the doorway.

The newcomer had neatly trimmed silver hair, handsome features, and a tall, straight back. His well-tailored dark suit made him look exceptionally refined.

Judging by appearance alone, one might even mistake him for a young scholar from some academy rather than a member of the Tussor family.

The young man bowed slightly, his movements extremely measured.

"Auro Tusol of the Tusol family greets Patriarch Ocelli."

Rosselk glanced at him, and the dejection on his face quickly faded, like a piece of iron that had been re-polished and regained its hardness in the blink of an eye.

"What is it? Just say it."

Oro raised his head, a perfectly timed smile playing on his lips: "There is indeed something I would like to ask for your help with. The Tusol family will certainly reward you handsomely if it is done."

Russell said calmly, "Since there's such a generous reward, there's bound to be risk involved."

"It may be difficult for others, but it is not difficult for you."

Oro paused here, as if observing Rosselk's expression, before slowly saying, "You must have heard of someone, Siren."

Rosselk's eyes remained completely calm.

He thought for a moment before pulling the name out of his memory.

The ordinary knight who defeated Rose in a boxing match and won the championship.

If it weren't for this connection, a mere first-tier extraordinary being wouldn't be worth remembering.

"Just a Tier 1 Extraordinary." Rosell said in a flat tone, "If he really has something worth your attention, just capture him or kill him, that's all."

Oro's smile remained unchanged: "For some reasons, it's inconvenient for us to take action ourselves."

Rosell looked at him coldly: "So you want me to wipe your blood off?"

Oro seemed oblivious to the sarcasm, remaining as gentle as ever:

"You flatter me, sir. We were just helping each other out."

Moreover… as far as I know, this Siron and the Ocelli family have had some unpleasantness in the past.”

That's not your business.

"But you might be interested," Oro said, taking a half-step forward and lowering his voice. "Siren recently advanced to a second-tier Ripper. He's growing too fast; if we don't suppress him now, he'll likely become even more troublesome in the future."

Rosselk remained silent for a few moments.

The candlelight sharply defined his profile, making the heavy look between his brows even clearer.

After a while, he shook his head.

"Please leave, I don't have time for this right now."

The smile on Auro's face finally froze.

"Chieftain, this is not a difficult task for you. Besides, that Xilun—"

I said, "Please go back."

Russell's tone was not heavy, but it was like a stone hammer falling, abruptly breaking the second half of his sentence.

The room fell silent.

Oro stood there, his chest rising and falling slightly, a hint of suppressed annoyance flashing in his eyes.

He wanted to say something more, but when he met Rosselk's gray but still sharp eyes, he held back.

"In that case, I won't bother you any longer."

He bowed again, his manners impeccable.

The moment he turned around, his face was so dark it looked like it was about to drip water.

The door closed again.

Rosell was left alone in the room again.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly pressing against his forehead. After a long while, he uttered a soft sentence.

"Ross is dead... I have no interest in anything else."

He didn't want to care about Xilun, Tusol, or the North and South districts anymore.

But at that moment, Rox’s face suddenly flashed into his mind.

He was a genuine Tier 2 Extraordinary, with seasoned combat experience and a calm and composed temperament.

It's impossible for Rox to die in the Wonderland with just a newly made-up Tier 1 kid.

Rosselk slowly raised his eyes, his expression gradually turning cold.

"Someone come here."

The butler outside the door immediately responded and entered.

"Chieftain."

"Give me a list of all the Tier 2 Extraordinary individuals who have entered the Snow Mountain Wonderland."

Russell's voice was low. "Also, investigate—investigate thoroughly who Ross has clashed with, and who Rox has clashed with along the way. Don't miss anyone who might have attacked them."

The butler was slightly startled and quickly bowed his head: "Yes."

Russell leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, but his breathing became increasingly heavy.

He doesn't believe in natural disasters or bad luck.

With so many people dead, there's always a hand hiding behind it all.

……

Outside the manor, the rain hadn't started yet, but the sky was very low.

A silver sedan was parked at the foot of the stone steps, its body appearing cold in the twilight.

Auro climbed into the back seat, slammed the door shut, and glanced back at the deep silhouette of the Ocheri Manor, his face grim.

The next moment, he suddenly pushed open the car window a crack and spat on the ground.

"What a fucking ungrateful person."

The elderly man in the front, gripping the steering wheel, cautiously asked, "Young master, where are we going now?"

Oro closed the window again, his tone as cold as ice: "The Hawke family."

The old man was taken aback: "Now?"

"Now."

Oro stared at his blurry reflection in the car window, his eyes gradually darkening.

"If we can't go down the Ocelli road, there will always be someone willing to kill for us."

The Hawke family and Siron already had a long-standing feud, and they suspected him of taking something from the Wonderland; they couldn't possibly remain uninterested.

The car started slowly, its wheels rolling over the damp stone road.

Just then, the attendant in the passenger seat answered a phone call. After listening for a few moments, his expression changed, and he turned around and said:

"Young Master, we received a message from the South District saying that Xilun has returned to the South District due to the Brotherhood's arrangements."

Oro raised an eyebrow, a dangerous glint suddenly flashing in his eyes.

"Back in the South District?"

"Yes."

Oro leaned back in his seat, remained silent for two seconds, and then suddenly smiled.

But there was no warmth in that smile.

"That's a great opportunity."

"I was worried that taking action across the entire district would be too conspicuous. If I killed him in the southern district and then traced the crime back to an old grudge, it would be much more logical."

He raised his hand and gently tapped the back of the front seat, saying each word clearly, "Drive faster. It would be best if Xilun died in the South District tonight."

The silver sedan roared off, like a cold ray of light slicing through the twilight.

……

A torrential downpour washed over the bluestone streets of the southern district, with rainwater cascading down the eaves and splashing into fine sprays on the ground.

Inside a tastefully decorated tailor shop, the warm yellow glow of the gas lamps dispelled the chill outside.

Xilun stood in front of the huge full-length dressing mirror, looking at himself in the mirror with a blank expression, tilting his head slightly to adjust his cuffs.

The clothing store was excessively bright, with standing mirrors with gilded frames all around, and the air was filled with the scents of fabric, irons, and faint face powder.

Two tailors circled around him, their eyes full of professional enthusiasm.

"Sir, this outfit is perfect for you."

The older tailor on the left rubbed his hands together in admiration, "The waistline, shoulders, back, and sleeve length are all perfectly tailored to you. To put it bluntly, many noble young masters might not have your presence even when dressed like this."

Xilun looked up at himself in the mirror.

A white suit with a clean lining and a crisp collar, without the overly somber and oppressive feel of black, makes the wearer look more sharp and younger.

The long, slender shoulders and back, when supported by the fabric, create a sense of contradiction that is hard to describe—at first glance, it looks refined, but if you look down a little further, you feel that there is something extremely dangerous pressing down under this outfit.

"Is that so?" Xilun smiled.

Another young tailor quickly replied, "I swear, I never lie, or I'll drink the Thames dry."

Xilun was amused by him and twitched the corner of his mouth.

"This one will do."

By the time I left the clothing store, it was already raining heavily.

With a whoosh, it was as if the sky had leaked.

Xilun opened the car door at the entrance and had just sat down when Yuri in the driver's seat yawned and glanced at him.

"You've been trying on clothes for way too long. I thought you were discussing marriage in there."

Xilun leaned back in the back seat and casually closed the door: "The black outfit was too formal, so I changed to white."

Yuri glanced at the rearview mirror and clicked his tongue:

"You know what, it actually looks pretty convincing. You usually dress like you're going to fight, but if you tidy yourself up a bit, you can really fool a lot of people."

As he spoke, he stepped on the gas and sped off.

The silver-white sedan immediately plunged into the torrential rain, the rain curtain being torn apart by the headlights, and the puddles on the ground splashing to both sides.

"There are quite a few people here today," Yuri said while turning the steering wheel. "White Raven Wharf and Wall's group are here, as well as a few governors from outlying branches, but most of them are just showing up. Headquarters has been busy lately, so it's already a big favor that they can spare some time."

Xilun hummed in agreement, his gaze falling on the street scene outside the window, which was battered by the rain.

Yuri, however, clearly didn't want the car to become quiet.

"Don't be nervous. You're the youngest governor in the Brotherhood in recent years, and you've been promoted to Tier 2 so quickly. You've done a great job."

Even if those veteran governors don't say it, they'll still feel intimidated when they see you. Besides—"

As he said this, he raised his chin with a rather smug look.

"The board members are either in seclusion or away on business. I'm currently acting as the deputy leader, temporarily handling the work. You're one of my people; who dares to lay a hand on you to my face?"

Xilun smiled and said, "Then we'll have to rely on Lord Yuri's approval."

"Stop flattering me, I don't fall for that." Yuri said with disdain, but his eyes clearly showed that he was much more pleased.

The car drove forward, the windshield wipers swishing wildly, like two tireless black knives.

After a while, Yuri seemed to suddenly remember something and casually asked, "By the way, you're twenty this year, right?"

"almost."

"You're twenty and still not looking for a woman?" Yuri clicked his tongue twice. "When I was your age, I already had a two-year-old child."

Xilun tilted his head to look at him: "You're doing it again."

"What do you mean 'again'? I'm just concerned about you."

Yuri snorted. "With so many girls around you, isn't there a single one you like? Daisy, Susie, or those girls from the North District who blush to their necks just by looking at you?"

Siren's brow furrowed slightly: "You investigated me?"

"Bullshit, who investigated you? I'm just gathering information."

Yuri said confidently, "You're in high demand now. So many people are eyeing you, wishing they could put their own daughters in your arms."

"If I don't check on you first, what will I do if you get completely fooled by some woman? Who will I cry to then?"

Xilun chuckled and lowered his head, not responding to the comment.

Seeing this, Yuri became even more excited.

"Honestly, I can introduce you to a few. They're people you know well, their homes are clean, and they're good-looking."

"don't want."

"You don't even like the ones I introduced?"

"I don't like it."

"Hey, you little rascal—"

Just as Yuri was about to explode, a slow-moving old car suddenly blocked his way. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, stuck half his head out, and yelled, "Can't you fucking drive?! Are you hatching eggs here in the rain?!"

After cursing, he suddenly swerved the steering wheel.

The silver-white sedan, like a glittering fish, darted past, leaving the dilapidated secondhand car far behind.

Yuri grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

"A nobody like me, driving a thirty-pound junk, dares to act tough in front of me."

After Yuri finished laughing, his mood improved considerably, and he raised his hand to pat the car body.

"See that? Now that's what you call a car."

"The new sports car from the Mitolda Group weighs 300 pounds! Even with its top-of-the-line power reactor, 90% of advanced mutants can't catch it on foot."

Xilun glanced at the interior; the leather, metal, and steam-powered gauges were indeed exquisitely crafted.

No wonder you treasure it so much.

“Of course.” Yuri lifted his chin. “This car is more obedient than my two daughters.”

After saying that, he suddenly steered the conversation back to the original topic: "So what kind of woman do you like? Gentle? Beautiful? Rich? Aristocratic?"