Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilen's fingers tightened slightly as he gripped the gun.

"Which elder?"

"The letter didn't mention his name, only that he was a senior third-tier under the Second Elder, surnamed Kanber."

Campbell.

Xilun had some impression of this name. He was one of the core combat forces of the Tusol family, and his strength was above average among the third-tier. He was said to be quite tough.

"And the other one?"

"The other one wasn't injured, but he's in very poor mental condition. The Black Star people said that since he came back, he's been locking himself in his room and won't see anyone."

Xilun remained silent for a moment.

Two third-order individuals went to negotiate, but one was contaminated and the other suffered mental trauma. This was not negotiation; it was a trap.

"The Scarlet Retreat Society and the choir have joined forces," Siron said confidently.

Rena nodded: "That's what Black Star said in his message too. The Crimson side claims it's a misunderstanding, but refuses to hand over the caster, and their attitude is very tough. The Tusol family is in complete chaos right now."

"and then?"

"And then..." Rena's gaze became meaningful, "Black Star said that the chieftain might be looking for you soon."

Upon hearing this, Xilun's lips curled into a very slight smile.

They arrived as expected.

When a Tier 3 Extraordinary Being is contaminated with active pollution, ordinary spiritual incense and tranquilizing potions simply cannot suppress it.

Throughout the entire northern region, there are extremely few means to purify reactive pollutants.

"I understand." Xilun handed the iron spear to Kusuo. "Go back. Eat when it's time to eat, and patrol when it's time to patrol."

He paused, then looked at Rena: "Before they arrive, do not contact anyone in Tusol."

Reina nodded slightly and didn't ask any further questions.

Sure enough, the Tusol family arrived early the next morning.

It wasn't Black Star, but a middle-aged man whom Xilun had never seen before, dressed in the dark blue uniform of a steward of the Tusol family, his attitude respectful yet neither servile nor arrogant.

"Mr. Siren, the patriarch requests that you come to the main residence today for a discussion."

Xiren sat at the breakfast table, slowly slicing the fried eggs on his plate.

"What is it?"

The steward smiled and said, "The clan chief didn't elaborate, he just sent me to invite you."

Xilun wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked up at the other person: "Please tell the clan leader that I haven't been feeling well these past two days and need to rest. I'll visit him another day."

The manager's smile froze for a moment.

"Mr. Siren, the patriarch was referring to today,"

"I told you, I'm not feeling well." Celen's tone remained unchanged, as calm as if he were stating the weather. "I need to rest."

The steward opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but after meeting Xilun's calm and unfathomable eyes, he ultimately remained silent.

"...I understand. I will go back and report to the clan chief immediately."

After the steward left, Rhodes walked in from the foyer and lowered his voice: "Sir, wouldn't this...?"

"No," Celen continued eating his breakfast. "I'm not the one who should be worried."

Rod hesitated for a moment, then simply nodded and turned to clean up the teacups left by the steward.

Black Star arrived that afternoon.

He didn't come by carriage, but walked alone with an umbrella. His complexion was much somber than when we last met, and there were obvious dark circles under his eyes.

He was received by Siren in his study.

"Elder Kamber is not doing well," Black Star said bluntly after sitting down, without any pleasantries.

"The contamination has spread deep into his meridians. The clan's pharmacists have used three kinds of spiritual incense and two kinds of medicine, but they can only barely suppress the spread, not eradicate it. At this rate... at most ten days."

Ten days.

Xilun held his teacup without saying a word.

Black Star looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then said directly, "The clan leader wants you to take a look. Your life technique... is currently the only potentially effective method."

"It might work." Xilun repeated those four words, his tone indifferent. "My technique is fine for dealing with ordinary active contamination, but the concentration and level of contamination in the bodies of third-tier extraordinary individuals are far beyond what those patients in Nancang could compare to. I'm not sure if it will work."

Black Star frowned: "How will you know if you don't try?"

"We can try." Xilun put down his teacup, leaned back in his chair, and calmly met Black Star's gaze. "But I have a question I'd like to ask first."

"What?"

"What are the chieftain's plans regarding the matter of Oin?"

Black Star's expression changed.

The study was quiet for a few seconds. The sound of rain outside the window acted like a curtain, isolating the room from the outside world.

"Silon," Black Star's voice lowered, "this is not the time to discuss this, Elder Campbell."

"I am very sorry about Elder Campbell's matter," Siren interrupted him, his tone completely unwavering.

"But Black Star, you should know better than anyone else that there hasn't been an official explanation yet for the fact that Oin sent people to kill me."

The patriarch's reply told me to go and settle accounts with Oin myself. A subordinate, external member, going to settle accounts with the family's third elder?

He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, but spoke clearly:

"This isn't sending me to settle accounts; it's sending me to my death."

Black Star remained silent.

He couldn't refute it.

Austin's reply, to put it nicely, was impartial; to put it bluntly, it was an attempt to smooth things over.

How could a second-tier external collaborator possibly demand an explanation from the Third Elder? This so-called "self-resolution" is essentially the patriarch's indulgence of Oin.

"I'm not asking for an exorbitant price," Xilun's tone softened.

"I just need an attitude. Oin sent people to kill me, and I killed three of them in retaliation. There has been no official response to this matter so far."

If I were to rush off to treat Elder Campbell right now, what would Oin think?

"He'll think I'm easy to manipulate."

"He would think that no matter how he deals with me, his family will eventually step in to mediate."

"Then next time, he won't just send three Tier 2s."

Black Star took a deep breath and rubbed his temples.

"I understand what you're saying. But Elder Campbell can't wait."

"That's a headache for the clan leader," Xilun said, picking up his teacup and taking a sip. "It's not mine."

Black Star stared at him for a long time before finally standing up.

"I will convey your message."

"Um."

"But Siren, I have to remind you of something." Black Star stopped at the door without turning around.

"Elder Campbell's son, Campbell Lott, is the Second Elder's most capable lieutenant. If something happens to his father, he won't care whose fault it is—he'll only remember who could have saved him but didn't."

"Can you handle having another Tier 3 enemy?"

Xilun put down his teacup.

"Of course I can't afford that." His voice was calm as still water. "But if I can't even get an explanation, even if I save people today, and Oin sends people to kill me again tomorrow, who will save me then?"

Black Star was silent for two seconds, then pushed open the door and walked into the rain.

After Black Star left, Siron sat alone in his study for a long time.

It wasn't that he didn't want to save people; Elder Kamber had no grudge against him. A third-tier powerhouse was slowly dying due to pollution, and Xilun had no intention of gloating.

But he couldn't go for nothing.

The Tusol family is a behemoth in this land; Austin is the player, and Oin is the key piece on the board.

In the eyes of his family, Xilun was at most a pawn—a somewhat special pawn.

A pawn cannot become a soldier crossing the river by simply bowing his head and doing his job.

The opponent needs to understand that this piece has the ability to refuse to be moved.

Xilun stood up and walked to the window.

The rain intensified, and the sky darkened to ashes.

He recalled what Lund had said in the training shed at the manor.

"Showcase your abilities appropriately to gain resources, intelligence, and the protection of allies. But remember, the purpose of showcasing them is to earn respect, not to be exploited."

The teacher's judgment was very accurate.

The current situation presents a perfect opportunity for the Tusol family to reassess their own worth.

He doesn't need to do much, he just needs to wait.

However, the situation within the Tusol family was more precarious than Xiren had anticipated.

The main house.

Austin sat in the large chair in his study, with Elder Campbell's medical records spread out on the table in front of him.

"The spread is accelerating," the old butler, Lucas, reported in a low voice. "The pharmacist said that suppressing it for another three days using current methods is the limit. If there's no better solution after three days..."

He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was already very clear.

Austin remained silent, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

"Black Star is back?"

"You're back." Lucas bowed slightly. "Siren... refused."

Austin's fingers stopped.

"What were his exact words?"

Lucas repeated Black Star's words verbatim.

After listening, Austin slowly closed his eyes.

The study remained quiet for a long time.

"That kid." After a long while, Austin opened his eyes, his tone carrying a hint of either annoyance or感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex emotion encompassing both admiration and awe), "He's tougher than I expected."

"Chieftain, shall we?"

"No." Austin raised his hand to interrupt Lucas. "He's right. I have indeed been putting off the matter of Oin."

He stood up and walked to the window.

The rain is like a curtain.

"But now is not the best time to deal with Oin," Austin said in a low voice, as if talking to himself.

"The war continues, and the supply chains for arms and minerals are all in Oin's hands. If we move against him now..."

Lucas didn't respond. He had followed Austin for forty years and knew when to speak and when to remain silent.

"Go and invite the Second Elder here." Austin turned around. "And Oin as well."

An hour later, in the small council chamber of the main house in Tusol.

Second Elder Campbell Hearst—Camber Hearst's brother—sat on the left side of the long table, his face ashen.

He was over fifty years old, with a robust build and graying temples, but his eyes were sharp as knives.

O'In sat on the right, expressionless.

"That's the situation," Austin said calmly, seated at the head of the table. "Silen refused."

Campbell Hearst clenched his fist under the table.

"On what grounds does he have to refuse?"

"He wants an explanation." Austin's gaze shifted to Oin. "An explanation about the Hawke family's attempt to kill him."

Oin's expression remained unchanged, as if the matter had nothing to do with him.

"Patriarch," his voice was calm and slow, "the Hawke family's actions have nothing to do with me. I have already made that clear."

"That's not what Herbert said to Siron before he died," Austin said calmly.

Oin smiled slightly: "Can the ramblings of a dying man be taken seriously?"

Campbell Hearst abruptly turned to stare at Oin, his eyes filled with rage.

But he didn't speak; he just clenched his fists tightly. He knew that emotions were the most useless thing in this council chamber.

Austin glanced at the two of them and slowly spoke, "Oin, I ask you. If Elder Campbell dies, how do you plan to face the Second Elder's lineage?"

Oin's eyelids finally twitched.

"The contamination of Elder Campber was the work of the Crimson Retreat Society and the Choir, and has nothing to do with Siron, nor with me, Patriarch."

“I didn’t say it concerned you,” Austin interrupted, his tone suddenly turning cold. “I’m just asking you, how would you cope if he died?”

Oin remained silent.

"Hurst," Austin turned to Elder Campbell II, "what's your opinion?"

Campbell Hearst took a deep breath, suppressing his surging emotions, his voice hoarse: "I don't care who has a grudge against whom. I just want my brother to live."

He looked up and stared directly at Austin: "Chief, please invite Siron here. Whatever his conditions are—they mean nothing compared to my brother's life."

Oin's lips tightened slightly.

Austin looked at the two of them and remained silent for a long time.

At the same time, outside the sanatorium where Elder Campbell was.

Campbell Lott—Elder Campbell's only son—leaned against the wall of the corridor, saying nothing.

He was twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, tall and thin, with a handsome face, but at this moment his face was filled with gloom and anger.

He is a second-tier extraordinary individual, whose strength ranks among the top of the younger generation.

But he could do nothing about the pollution in his father's body.

"Lotte." Footsteps sounded behind him; it was his uncle Hearst returning from the council chamber.

"What was the result?" Lott turned his head.

Hearst's expression was complicated: "The patriarch is trying to find a solution."

"Find a way?" Lott sneered. "Father has three days left. Three days."

"I know."

"That guy surnamed west—did he refuse?"

Hearst paused for a moment, then nodded.

A fierce glint flashed in Lotte's eyes: "Why should I? He's nothing but a dog kept by the Tusol family."

"Enough," Hearst hissed. "You haven't seen him fight, but I've seen the autopsy report. Three Tier 2s, all crushed and killed in a head-on collision within five minutes. That's not something a dog could do."

Lotte gritted his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Then what do we do? Just wait for Father to die?"

Hearst did not answer.

He simply stared at the closed door at the end of the corridor, listening to the intermittent, painful groans coming from inside.

The news spread that evening.

This wasn't an official statement from the main residence in Tusol, but rather fragments of information passed around in the shadows by various informants and brokers.

Elder Campbell's condition is worsening.

The pharmacist was at a loss.

The Tusol family invited Siron, but Siron did not go.

These fragmented messages quickly pieced together in the undercurrents of the North District, triggering a series of subtle chain reactions.

In the secret chamber of the choir, after receiving the message, Halvis, the person in charge, merely raised an eyebrow and then ordered his men to continue lying in wait, doing nothing.

At the Scarlet Training Society's northern base, Dr. Abel smiled slightly after hearing the news and said to those around him, "Interesting."

Meanwhile, at the Brotherhood headquarters in the South District, Yuri, who was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper, put down his cigar and blew a smoke ring into the air: "This kid is interesting."