Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

I've gotten the hang of it!

On the brink of life and death, with his adrenaline surging, he finally crossed that threshold.

Of course, even if you haven't mastered the basics, it's just a matter of throwing a few more punches.

After all, Morgan was in a daze, flustered, and his eyes were blinded by the incense ash, so he had no defenses at all.

Three punches at most, and he'd be dead.

Xiren withdrew his gaze, the fervor in his eyes quickly cooling.

Now is not the time to celebrate.

Although the sounds of fighting were largely masked by the wind and snow, it was hard to guarantee that they wouldn't attract the attention of neighbors or patrol officers.

We must leave immediately.

Xilun didn't have time to scavenge anything. He went to the bedside, grabbed the short knife stuck in the bed board, and pulled it out forcefully.

He wiped the blood off the knife on Morgan's sheets and tucked it back into his trousers.

Then, he went to the window and peeked out.

The streets were deserted.

Xilun nimbly climbed out of the window and slid down the ladder.

After landing, he turned the long ladder sideways and carried it on his shoulder.

He appeared natural, with a dark complexion.

At this moment, he looked like a lamplighter who had just finished his work, or a handyman who did odd jobs late at night.

Xilun carried the ladder and walked calmly through the wind and snow.

Even when two drunken men walked towards him, he simply stepped aside to let them pass, his expression as natural as if nothing had happened.

It was already 3 a.m. when I got back to the warehouse dormitory in the dock area.

Loud snoring filled the dormitory.

Xilun carefully lowered the ladder and went to the sink in the corridor.

The icy tap water splashed on his face, and the biting cold made him shiver.

Xilun looked up and saw the dust being washed away, revealing his young, pale face in the mirror once again.

Water droplets dripped down his chin.

The person in the mirror had no expression, but their eyes were frighteningly bright.

An unprecedented sense of ease enveloped my heart.

It was like removing a huge boulder that had been pressing on my chest for years.

......

In the early morning, Saint Laurent lived up to its reputation, shrouded in smog.

The Brotherhood headquarters, first floor office.

Yuri sat behind his mahogany desk, gently rubbing his temples with his fingers.

He didn't sleep well last night, and the news he received this morning triggered his migraine.

The ashtray on the table was piled high with cigar butts.

Just last night, Morgan, the overseer at the Greywater River docks, died.

He died a horrible death; his sternum was shattered and his internal organs were ruptured, as if he had been struck head-on by a raging bear.

Another hotheaded hitman named Quinn also had his neck snapped and was left in the alley.

"trouble."

Yuri exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes gloomy.

He had no feelings for Morgan; once he died, he was gone.

What gave him a headache was that the docks along the Greywater River needed someone to manage them.

The coolies are a flock of timid sheep; without a fierce sheepdog to keep an eye on them, they will slack off or even go on strike.

Temporary promotions require planning, and if people are recruited from outside, there's a risk they won't be able to manage the situation.

"Knock knock knock".

A knock came at the door.

Yuri frowned slightly and stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open.

A young man dressed in gray overalls walked in. He was tall and slender, with a pale and cold face and calm eyes.

Westren!

Yuri recognized the face.

That day in the office, this kid not only passed the Black Originium test, but also almost broke Morgan's wrist.

Xilun walked to the table, bowed slightly, and his movements were so perfect that there was nothing wrong with them.

"Lord Yuri."

He took a letter out of his pocket and handed it over with both hands.

"This is a letter of introduction from Mentor Ryan."

Yuri raised an eyebrow and took the envelope.

The envelope was sealed with sealing wax and bore the emblem of the Iron Cross Club.

I tore open the envelope and glanced at the contents.

Yuri's lips curled into a playful smile as he casually tossed the letter onto the table.

"It's rare to see that guy, Ryan, willing to vouch for someone."

Yuri leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the young man before him.

Morgan is dead.

Yuri suddenly spoke, his gaze fixed intently on Xiren's eyes.

Xilun remained expressionless, his eyes unwavering, as if listening to a trivial matter unrelated to himself.

"I've heard about it."

"It seems Mr. Morgan is having bad luck," Siron replied calmly.

"I was really unlucky."

Yuri smiled and continued, "Since you're willing to join the Brotherhood, that's a wise choice. When can you start?"

"I have completed my studies and am ready anytime."

"Then tomorrow."

Yuri took out a bronze seal from the drawer, stood up solemnly, and came to Xilun.

Then, he bent down and fastened the bronze medal to Xilun's collar.

It was a heavy bronze medal with two clasped hands engraved on it, the symbol of the fraternity.

"This is your work stamp, don't lose it."

Yuri patted Xiren on the shoulder and gave him some instructions.

Although he was thin, the cold aura he exuded made the surrounding temperature seem to drop several degrees.

"You'll be in charge of the docks along the Greywater River."

Yuri's voice was deep.

"I don't care how you do things, I only have three requirements."

Xilun bowed slightly: "Please speak."

Yuri held up one finger.

"First, don't deliberately cause trouble; the Brotherhood exists to make money."

He then extended a second finger.

"Second, don't be afraid of trouble. If anyone dares to cause trouble at the docks, whether it's the Iron Fist Gang or some other scum, beat them to death. If anything happens, the Brotherhood will cover for you."

Finally, he extended his third finger and gently poked Xilen's chest.

"Third, don't cause me any trouble unless there's something wrong."

Yuri's eyes sharpened like knives.

"I don't want to hear any rumors about strikes or riots. What I want is smooth freight transport and that every monthly fee be paid in full. Do you understand?"

Xilun gripped the bronze medal tightly, feeling the cold touch of the metal.

"clear."

"very good."

Yuri nodded in satisfaction, pondered for a moment, and then encouraged him, "The lives of young people are limitless."

He sat back down in his chair and waved.

"Come over this afternoon, and I'll pick out a deputy for you."

……

Walk out of the fraternity gates.

Xilun took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs and instantly relaxing his tense nerves.

It became.

From this day forward, he will no longer be a laborer at the mercy of others on the docks, but an overseer who holds the power of life and death.

He looked down at the bronze medal in his hand, its rough texture rubbing against his fingertips.

This is a symbol of power.

Although he was just a supervisor managing a dozen or so laborers.

Xilun pinned the bronze medal to his collar, straightened his clothes, and strode towards the street.

As I passed through an alley, a riot broke out ahead.

Yellow police tape was put up, and several police officers in black uniforms were maintaining order and dispersing the crowd.

"Make way! Make way! Don't block the way!"

Xilun stopped and looked through the gaps in the crowd.

In the alley, a body is being loaded onto a hearse.

It was the body of a young man, his neck twisted at an eerie angle, his head drooping limply to one side.

Quinn.

The gunman who tried to assassinate him last night.