Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

He lit a decent cigarette and took a deep drag.

The acrid smoke filled his lungs, bringing a slight dizziness and calming his confused mind a little.

The cigarette butt glowed intermittently, reflecting on his ever-changing face.

"You go back first."

Morgan exhaled a smoke ring, his voice hoarse.

"Uncle, about that job..." the nephew wanted to ask again.

"I'm letting you go back!"

Morgan growled, a fierce glint in his eyes.

"You don't need to worry about this, I'll handle it. Remember, stay home these next few days, don't go anywhere, and don't cause me any trouble."

The nephew was terrified by Morgan's murderous gaze and dared not say another word.

"Yes...yes, thank you, Uncle."

He felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and with his neck hunched, he fled into the alleyway beside him, quickly disappearing into the night.

Morgan stood alone under the streetlight.

Holding the cigarette between his fingers, he let the ash accumulate into a long strand before being blown away by the wind.

His gaze was fixed on the direction of the fraternity's gate, his eyes gradually shifting from initial panic and anger to a cold and vicious look.

It's like making a decision.

Morgan threw the half-smoked cigar hard on the ground and crushed it out with his leather shoe until the sparks were completely extinguished, leaving only a black stain.

……

Xilun splashed his face with the icy water from a public water tap by the roadside, letting his brain cool down completely.

"call……"

Xilun exhaled a puff of white breath. As long as he could get rid of the overseer's position, everything would be fine.

He stretched, and his joints cracked like popping beans.

The night is dark.

The dock area, however, is not quiet.

The steam crane in the distance was still roaring, and the beams of searchlights swept across the darkness.

Xilun pushed open the dilapidated wooden door of the dormitory.

"Squeak—"

More than twenty people were crammed into this large dormitory room, which was converted from an abandoned warehouse.

The sounds of snoring, teeth grinding, and mumbling in their sleep rose and fell, weaving together a symphony of despair.

Xilun walked to his bunk.

Kemi was lying face down on the bed, shirtless, with several dark plasters on her back, and a pungent herbal smell filled the air.

"Ouch... Gently, gently!"

Kemi was having a coworker in the next bed massage her lower back, and she was wincing in pain and sweating profusely.

Seeing Xilun return, Kemi felt like she was seeing a family member and couldn't help but start pouring out her troubles.

"Silen, you're finally back."

Kemi rolled over, her movements as stiff as an eighty-year-old man.

"What a terrible day! That damned Morgan, he's not even human!"

Xilun put down his coat, sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the kettle, and took a sip of cold water.

"What's wrong?"

"What else could it be!"

Kemi slammed his fist on the bed, sending dust flying everywhere.

"We have a shipment today, consisting of fine steel ingots and silk ordered by the noble gentry of the Upper City. Normally, everyone takes turns carrying them, so it's nothing unusual."

"But that bastard Morgan insisted on making me move steel ingots!"

Kemi pointed to her waist, her face filled with grief and indignation.

"That box of steel ingots weighed over 300 pounds! And there weren't even any handles! I had to carry it entirely by brute force! My back is almost broken by the end of the day!"

"And what about those sycophants who usually bring him cigarettes and alcohol?"

"Go and fetch the silk!"

"That silk is so light, how heavy could a whole box be? They could chat and joke around while carrying it, it's like they're on a picnic!"

Kemi became increasingly angry as she spoke, and her eyes turned red.

"That's not all! That bastard deliberately picked a fight, saying I was moving things too slowly and he wanted to dock half a day's pay! What did I do to deserve this?"

The coworker who was helping with the massage sighed and interjected:

"Well, that's what happens when Morgan is in charge of this area."

"That's fate."

"I heard the situation at Warehouse No. 3 next door is even worse."

In the darkness, another coworker who was still awake spoke softly.

"They got a new supervisor and implemented some kind of 'wooden sign system'."

"Want to work? Sure, but first pay for a license plate."

"A sign costs two pence. Only those with a sign are allowed to work. Those without a sign are left out in the cold."

"And that brand even comes in different colors."

"The red-sign holders are for handling light goods; that's for people with connections and those who can afford to pay high prices."

"Black-plated trucks for carrying heavy goods are for poor people like us."

"If you don't buy it? Heh, the foreman's whip doesn't discriminate. Last week, a new guy who didn't know the rules tried to barge in, and he got his leg broken and was thrown into the stinking ditch."

A brief silence fell over the dormitory.

The only sounds were Kemi's heavy breathing and the occasional sound of a ship's horn in the distance.

In this downtown area where there are no laws but only brute force, the overseer is the law, the supreme authority.

They held the power to assign work, and thus the power of life and death over these laborers.

Do you want to eat? Do you want to support your family?

Then you have to bow your head, you have to endure it, you have to trample your dignity underfoot and let others trample on it.

Kemi was exhausted from yelling and collapsed on the bed, her eyes somewhat vacant.

"Sirlen, tell me... when will this ever end?"

"Am I destined to spend my whole life wallowing in this mud, being treated like livestock?"

Xilun did not speak.

He took off his shoes, lay down on the hard wooden bed, and put his hands behind his head.

In the darkness, his eyes shone with an eerie light.

He listened to Kemi's complaints and the numb sighs of his fellow workers, and felt calm inside.

"Go to sleep, Kemi."

Xilun rolled over.

"Tomorrow will be a nice day."

Kemi mumbled a few words, she was just too tired, and soon she started snoring again.

Xiren lay in the darkness, his breathing gradually becoming long and deep.

......

Week 6, Monday.

"Bang! Bang!"

Inside the Iron Cross Club's training room, dull thuds echoed one after another.

Sweat splashed with each movement, landing on the old wooden floor and instantly shattering into eight pieces.

The two figures bumped into each other, then immediately separated.

Xilun was shirtless, his muscles clearly defined by the sweat, his chest heaving and his breath sending out hot white puffs of air.

Across from him, Feslow wasn't much better off.

This former student, who used to dominate Xilun, now had his hands on his knees, sweat dripping down his sturdy chin. His face, which usually wore a simple smile, was now a deep purplish-red.

"Rest...take a break."

Feslow waved his hand, plopped down on the floor, and panted heavily. "You... how come you're getting stronger and stronger..."

Siren silently walked to the side, picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, and then sat down against the wall.

After a week of intensive training, his physical abilities improved rapidly through the dual refinement of breathing techniques and combat skills.

The feeling of power surging from the depths of his bones intoxicated him.

A faint black layer appeared on the skin, and the stratum corneum seemed to be more resilient and firm.