Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

When she saw Xilun enter, she stood up, glanced at him to make sure he was unharmed, and then nodded slightly.

"Sit down." Xilun sat down behind the desk and poured a glass of warm water.

"My lady," Rena said without mincing words, "what happened?"

"The Hawke family, three Tier 2 members." Siren picked up his cup and took a sip. "Herbert is leading the team personally."

Rena frowned: "Herbert? The head of the Hawke family?"

"Yes. He and two other men—Gregor and Morris—ambushed him in Klein Alley."

"...And then what happened?"

"They're all dead."

Rena was silent for two seconds.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded.

"That corpse—"

"Still in the alley. It's raining, so there aren't many people around. They might be discovered tomorrow." Xilun put down his cup. "Don't worry about the body; let them collect it themselves."

"clear."

"Let's get down to business." Siren leaned back in his chair, his gaze calmly fixed on Rena. "What's changed in the month I was gone?"

Rena opened the letter in her hand and began her report.

Two major events.

"The first thing, war." Her voice was low and fast, with her usual efficient rhythm.

"The conflict between the Empire and the Federation in the southern seas has escalated from localized skirmishes to full-scale confrontation. The navy has blockaded three major shipping lanes, and prices have risen by nearly 40% in the past month."

The Tusol family began stockpiling weapons and medicines, while the Crimson Training Society was also downsizing.

"A war that broke out quietly," Xiren repeated the word.

"Yes. There has been no formal declaration of war, but everyone knows that the war has begun." Rena turned the first sheet of paper over.

"Moreover, the Tusol family's actions against the Scarlet Academy are intensifying."

News from Black Star indicates three suspected attacks on Crimson Outpost personnel by Tusor's covert forces in the past two weeks, one of which resulted in the deaths of two Crimson Tier 1 members.

Xiren narrowed his eyes slightly: "Tusol is launching a preemptive attack on Crimson?"

"On the surface, it wasn't Tusol's people who did it, but the methods and tools point to them." Rena paused.

"More noteworthy is the indication that Tusol has begun to infiltrate the periphery of the Whispering Choir, not to attack, but to probe. It's as if he's looking for someone or something."

Xilun was silent for a moment.

Tusol understood that it was normal for two major factions to vie for resources and territory, especially the Crimson Clan. But reaching out to the Whispering Choir…

"What are they looking for?"

"It's uncertain, but the timing is very coincidental—it happened right after the Scamander incident."

Legacy of life.

The word came to Xilun's mind.

The Tusol family obtained firsthand information that there was a passageway containing the remains of life beneath the Black Pigeon Church.

The Whisper Choir has flower fields in several towns around the North District, and those flower fields may also be connected to the ruins.

Tusol wasn't looking for anyone.

They were searching for a way, a way to the remains of life.

Xilun left this deduction unsaid and gestured for Rena to continue.

"The second thing is smuggling." Rena pulled out another stack of documents.

"After the outbreak of war, sea routes were blocked, and a large amount of goods began to be transported through underground channels."

At least seven or eight smuggling gangs have recently infiltrated the northern district, bringing in a wide variety of goods from the south—arms, medicines, contraband, and even supplementary materials for extraordinary individuals.

"What impact will this have on us?"

"The impact is significant." Rena's tone turned serious. "Three of these gangs' smuggling routes overlap with our Brotherhood's transport routes. They not only steal our customers but also intercepted our legitimate cargo twice. Last week, two of Kusso's men were beaten up at the river mouth, and their goods were seized."

Xilun's gaze turned colder.

"Did you get it back?"

"No. The other side has more people, and—" Rena hesitated for a moment, "there's a second-tier extraordinary being among them."

"How many groups have Tier 2?"

"Three have been confirmed. There are no small gangs, just a makeshift group made up of Tier 1 members and ordinary people."

Xilun tapped his fingers lightly on the table, producing a rhythmic tapping sound.

"Take down the smaller gangs first," he said. "Bring in those you can, and break up the ones who resist. As for the three big ones, find out their backgrounds first, no rush."

"Understood." Rena put the documents away. "There's one more thing—"

"explain."

"The matter of you being in Klein Lane... I'm afraid it can't be kept secret for long." Rena looked up at him.

"The news that three second-tier extraordinary beings died simultaneously in an alley will spread—"

"Let it spread."

Xilun's tone was flat.

"But there's one thing I need to do first." He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the rain outside.

"Send a message to the Tusor family, saying that Herbert of the Hawk family, under the orders of Oin, colluded with three second-tier extraordinary beings to kill me."

"I demand an explanation from Oin."

Rena stood up: "Under what pretext is this message being delivered?"

"In my capacity as Governor of the Northern District," Siren turned his head, his gaze calm, "I will hand it directly to Austin."

"……clear."

Reina rose to take her leave.

As she reached the door, she paused and glanced back at Xilun.

"grown ups."

"Um?"

"...One person killed three Tier 2s." Rena's lips twitched slightly, as if she wanted to laugh but held it back. "You are indeed stronger than you were a month ago."

"Go get busy."

Rena pushed open the door and went out.

The study returned to silence, with only the sound of rain outside the window and the occasional crackling of firewood in the fireplace.

Xiren returned to his desk, sat down, picked up a pen, and wrote a few words on a blank sheet of paper.

"Oin, Hawke, surround and kill him."

Then a horizontal line was drawn below.

Below the horizontal line, he wrote another name.

"Balk".

Two accounts.

One stroke is near, the other is far.

He folded the letter and put it in the drawer.

Then I turned off the lights and went back to the bedroom.

That's enough for tonight. Tomorrow will be a new beginning.

Meanwhile, at Tusol Manor, in the study.

O'In was sitting in a leather chair in front of the fireplace, holding a cup of steaming black tea.

The fire in the fireplace burned brightly, casting flickering light and shadow on half of his face.

His face was thin and angular, his temples were already gray, but his deep-set eyes still held a sharp light.

The door was pushed open, and a burly middle-aged man walked in.

Oro.

Oin's nephew, and also his most trusted deputy in the family.

Oro's expression was not good.

"Father," he said in a low voice, "Herbert's men are back."

Ao Yin paused for a moment as he held the teacup.

"How so?"

"...It failed."

silence.

The firewood in the fireplace crackled and sparks flew everywhere.

Oin slowly put down his teacup and looked up.

His expression didn't change much; there was no shock, no panic, only a deep, suppressed anger surfacing in his eyes.

"Three second-tier heroes," Oin's voice was deep and steady. "Three against one."

"Yes."

"Helbert himself took to the field."

"yes."

"We still lost."

"...Yes. It wasn't just a loss." Auro's throat bobbed. "All three of them are dead."

This time, Oin's finger did indeed twitch.

But it was only for a moment.

"Useless thing."

His voice carried a cold disdain, as if he were evaluating a substandard product.

"Three second-tier cultivators ganged up on a kid who only broke through half a year ago, and they were actually killed instead." He sneered, "The Hawke family is nothing special."

Oro stood there, silent for a few seconds, and then asked in a low voice:

"Father... what should we do now?"

"What should we do?"

"That Xiren—not only did he not die, he came back alive." There was a hint of unease in Auro's voice. "And... given his personality, he probably won't let this go easily."

Oin picked up his teacup and took another sip.

The hot tea warmed my chest, which had been chilled by the night breeze.

"So what?"

His tone was indifferent, as if he were talking about something trivial.

"Just an outsider." Oin placed his teacup on the armrest and tapped the inside of the cup lightly with his fingers.

"Leaving aside the lack of concrete evidence—the Hawke family's actions are their business, what does it have to do with me, Tusol?"

Oro opened his mouth.

"Even if there is evidence," Oin raised his eyes, looking at his nephew with a condescending confidence in his gaze.

"Does the chieftain really intend to harm me, the youngest of the three elders, just for the sake of Xilun?"

Oro paused for a moment.

Then he understood.

Oin wasn't indifferent to Xilun; he was genuinely unafraid.

Oin held sway in the Tussol family's power structure for nearly twenty years.

He had all of these things in his hands: minerals, arms, peripheral chambers of commerce, and three hidden lines in the southern district.

Making a move against him is equivalent to disrupting half of the family's profit chain.

Chief Austin didn't not want to touch him; he simply couldn't.

It can't move at least for now.

Especially when the war had just broken out and the family needed its arms and mining lines to operate at full capacity.

This is Aoin's greatest source of confidence.

"I'd rather die than admit it," Oro said softly.

"There's no need to deny it even if you kill me." Oin put down his teacup, stood up, walked to the fireplace, put his hands behind his back, and looked at the dancing flames.

"What is Xilun's identity? An outsider, the governor of the North District who practices our family's breathing technique." His voice was laced with a sneer.

"All his resources—the Yin Spirit Source Water, the Cold Marrow Supplements, and the access to the side archives—were all given to him by the clan leader. In the end, they all belong to my Tusor family."

"What can he possibly use to fight me?"

Oin turned around and looked at Oro.

"If he comes to demand an explanation, let him. The clan chief will at most give me a warning, and then what?"

Then he'll still have to obediently come back, continue practicing the Profound Yin Breathing Technique, and continue asking us for resources.

"Because he had no other choice."

After hearing this, Auro finally felt relieved.

Yes.

No matter how talented or skilled Xilun is, he is ultimately just a person.

A person with no family, no roots, and no backing.

Everything he had depended on Tusol.

And Oin is one of the deepest roots of this great tree.

Who can cut it down?

Oro relaxed his shoulders, but then remembered something else: "However... that kid's talent is truly terrifying. Half a year ago he was just over level one, and now he's taking on three opponents at once..."

"Talent is talent," Oin waved his hand dismissively. "There are plenty of talented people in this world. What good is talent without resources?"

"How much Yin Spirit Source Water does he need to advance to the third tier? How much Cold Marrow Essence? How many research sessions in the secret chambers will he require?" Oin sneered. "Where will he find these things?"

"He has nowhere else to go but us."

Oro was completely relieved.

"Then I'll arrange for someone to clean up all traces of contact with the Hawke family."

"Go ahead." Oin sat back down in his chair. "And tell your men to behave themselves and avoid conflicts with the people of Xilun lately. Give way where necessary; it won't make a difference."

"clear."

Oro withdrew.

Oin was left alone in the study.

The firelight from the fireplace illuminated his thin face, and there was no panic in his deep-set eyes.

He picked up the teacup, found it was cold, and put it down.

West London...

Oin pondered the name in his heart.

To say I don't care would be a lie.

In just six months, he rose from the first tier to the top of the second tier, and even killed three second-tier extraordinary individuals in a one-against-three battle—such a growth rate is extremely rare in the history of the Tusor family.

Add to that the clan leader's high regard for him, the rarity of life-spelling techniques, and that seemingly fearless heart...

Given enough time and resources, this person could indeed become a huge problem.

But the key word is "if".

A cold glint flashed in Oin's eyes.

The resources are in my hands.

Time... won't be much.

Once the war breaks out in full force, the northern region will be the logistics hub of the front line.

Smuggling gangs, various factions, and even the Imperial military will all get involved.

Whether a mere governor of the northern district can survive this chaos remains to be seen.

Oin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Not urgent.

Take it easy.

The next morning, it was still dark.

The main residence of the Tusol family, a massive gray-white manor located in the heart of the city, has its central study always brightly lit.

Austin sat cross-legged on the futon behind his desk, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing long and deep.

He wasn't meditating; he was just used to thinking in this posture.

On the desk lay a newly delivered letter—from the North District Brotherhood, sent in the name of Siren.

The content is very simple, so simple that it consists of only one sentence:

"Herbert of the Hawke family, acting on Oin's orders, gathered three second-tier extraordinary beings to ambush and kill me. The Tusol family demands an explanation."

Austin opened his eyes.

He stared at the letter and remained silent for a long time.

The old butler, Lucas, who had been standing behind him for a long time, finally asked softly:

"Chieftain, do we need a reply?"

Austin did not answer immediately.

He stood up—he was a tall, slender, and composed old man with neatly combed white hair and wearing a dark blue house robe.

He walked to the window, pushed aside the heavy velvet curtains, and looked at the sky outside, which was gradually brightening.

"Three Tier 2s," he said in a low, calm voice, "all dead."

"Yes." Lucas nodded.

"Herbert, Greg, and Morris were all found dead in Klein Lane."

Herbert died from his heart being frozen by the cold air; Maurice also died from the cold penetrating his heart; and Gregor died from a fractured skull—a blunt force trauma.

"The injuries on the three of them..." Lucas flipped through the records in his hand.

"Gregor has a wound on his right shoulder caused by an unknown weapon, Morris has a penetrating stab wound and extensive frostbite on his left leg. Herbert has a palm print on his chest—an extremely deep palm print, as if it had been pressed down by a giant hand."

Austin closed his eyes briefly.

"One against three, a head-on crushing victory," he said. "No tricks used, no running away, no injuries."

"...Yes." Lucas paused. "Judging from the traces in the alley, the entire battle lasted very short—no more than five minutes at most."