Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

at the same time.

In the study of the Brotherhood mansion, Rhodes placed a new tracking report on Siron's desk.

"Sir, what's the situation today?"

Xilun put down his pen and opened the report.

After two days of continuous surveillance, the trackers finally pieced together a relatively complete picture.

The old shipyard was indeed a stronghold for smuggling gangs.

At least 40 people have entered or left that place in the past 48 hours.

among them--

The arrival of three groups of people attracted the attention of the watchers.

The first batch arrived yesterday evening. A truck covered with a tarpaulin drove into the shipyard's backyard from the east side. At least twelve long wooden crates were unloaded from the truck, and judging from their shape and the way they were carried, they were most likely rifles.

The second group arrived early this morning. Six people came from the river to the north in a small boat. The leader was a short, stout red-haired woman with a restrained aura, suspected to be a second-tier extraordinary being.

The third batch—

"Around 11 a.m. this morning, two people walked over from the old dock on the south side. One of them had a very deep aura, and even though we were far away, we could still feel a sense of oppression from him."

Rod paused.

"I suspect he is a second-order extraordinary being."

After reading the report, Xilun did not speak immediately.

He stood up and walked to the map on the wall.

Old shipyard.

His gaze fell on that spot, then slowly expanded outwards—

The river is to the east.

To the west is an abandoned old industrial area.

To the north are the docks and cargo yards.

To the south are several main roads leading to the Brotherhood's territory.

His finger moved slowly across the map, eventually stopping at one spot.

About half a mile south of the old shipyard, there is a cluster of abandoned old factory buildings.

"Rhodes".

"exist."

Is anyone living in this old factory area now?

Rhodes thought for a moment.

"Probably not. A homeless person stayed there last year, but they were evicted. Now it's just an empty lot and a few broken walls."

Xilun tapped that spot lightly with his fingers.

"Have the people tracking us go to that factory tonight and check if it's really empty."

"in addition--"

He turned and went back to his desk.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about them outside the old shipyard—for example, near Old Bridge Street?"

Rod paused for a moment, then opened his notebook.

"...This afternoon, the patrolmen said that in the middle section of Laoqiao Street, near the intersection with Hebin Road, an old man in a gray coat had been squatting against a wall for almost two hours. They said the old man had been drawing something on the ground with chalk, but it was hard to see clearly."

Xilun's expression changed slightly.

"Draw something?"

"Yes, our men didn't dare get too close, for fear of alerting him. But he said that after the old man finished drawing, he rubbed the chalk marks off with his foot and then left."

Xilun remained silent.

A word flashed through his mind—

Field.

Before setting up a site, site planners usually visit the site to scout out the location, confirm the terrain, measure distances, and mark key nodes.

Draw marks on the ground with chalk, then erase them.

This isn't some idle person doing graffiti.

This refers to the coverage area and trigger point of the measurement field.

"The middle section of Laoqiao Street..." he murmured.

Everything fits together.

Nancang is the bait.

Old Bridge Street is a trap.

They planned to set up a cordon there, trap him inside, and then launch a multi-stage siege, accompanied by musketeers firing in unison.

Xilun's lips curved slightly into a smile.

It wasn't a sneer, nor was it mockery.

It's more like a confirmation—

Once the hunter has located his prey, he becomes calm.

"Rhodes."

"exist."

"Before the armed insurgents arrive tomorrow, go and arrange something."

He picked up a pen, wrote a few lines on a piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to Rod.

"Do as instructed here. Don't make a fuss."

Rod took the note, glanced at it, paused slightly, and then nodded.

"clear."

He left, and the study became quiet again.

Xiren leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

The twilight outside the window gradually deepened.

The faint sound of ship horns from the distant dock drifted over, like a series of weary sighs.

He closed his eyes.

My mind raced through all the possibilities that might happen tomorrow night—

The ambush at Nancang, the reversal at Laoqiao Street, and the breaking of the field.

as well as--

An attack by five second-tier extraordinary beings.

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the quiet black mark on his right wrist.

come on.

He opened his eyes, his gaze calm as still water.

The next morning, the sky was overcast, like a piece of gray cloth that hadn't been wrung out and was covering the northern area.

Xilun completed his cultivation on the back mountain as usual.

The practice of breathing cold air under the waterfall has become a daily routine—the Xuan Yin breathing technique has been continuously improved with the help of Yin Spirit Source Water, and the density of cold air in the body has increased by at least 20% compared to a month ago.

But he ended his practice half an hour early today.

Because guests are coming.

After returning to the mansion and changing his clothes, Xilun sat down in the second-floor reception room, where Rhodes served him two pots of hot tea and a plate of dried fruit.

Kusso stood at the door, a short knife at his waist, his expression tense.

"Sir, three people have arrived. Two men and one woman."

He paused.

"The aura of two of them... is very strong."

"Please come in."

Footsteps came from up the stairs.

The first person to walk in was a man around thirty years old, of medium build, wearing a coarse cloth coat commonly seen on workers, with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows.

His face was unremarkable and would not attract anyone's attention on the dock, but the way he walked—with his center of gravity extremely low and each step almost silent—revealed that he was no ordinary person.

The second one was a woman.

She was half a head taller than the man, with her black hair tied into a neat ponytail at the back of her head. She had a thin face, high brow bones, and a pair of deep gray eyes that revealed a cold scrutiny.

She was wearing a faded old military uniform and was not carrying any weapons, but she exuded a cold and oppressive aura that made people afraid to approach her.

Second-order extraordinary.

And it's not weak.

The third person walked at the back.

He was the oldest, in his early forties, with a thick beard covering most of his face, and he was wearing a gray hooded cloak.

He didn't look at Xilen after entering the room, but first scanned the four corners and windows of the room before turning his gaze back to Xilen.

This is someone with battlefield experience.

The three people stood in the center of the reception room, but no one spoke first.

Xilun didn't rush to speak either.

He picked up the teacup, took a sip, and then put it down.

"Please sit down."

The three of them exchanged a glance.

The man in the worker's coat sat down first, his movements natural.

The woman hesitated for a moment, then sat down.

The bearded man was the last to sit down, and his seat was closest to the door.

"My name is Siren," Siren said, getting straight to the point. "I wrote the letter, and the badge was given to me by your people."

The man in the worker's coat nodded slightly.

"My name is Heinz." His voice wasn't loud, but each word was as clear as nails driven into a board. "This is Daphne, and this is Karl."

He did not introduce the three men's identities or positions—which is standard practice in the organization.

"We've read your letter," Heinz said. "We've also investigated you."

"What did you find out?"

Heinz did not evade the question.

"The governor of the Northern District Brotherhood, a non-clan patron of the Tusol family."

Six months ago, he was an unknown Tier 1 Extraordinary; now he's a Tier 2 Ripper. In Klein Alley, he single-handedly killed three Tier 2 members of the Hawke family.

He paused for a moment.

"Outside, people call you the 'Golden Knight'."

Xilun did not respond to this question.

"Did you find anything else?"

Heinz glanced at him.

"Your mentor is Lund—the founder of the Iron Cross Club, a retired soldier, with a bad temper, but with an excellent reputation among the common people."

You entered the world of combat sports through him, and then were recruited by the Tusol family, becoming an outsider extraordinary.

"But you don't entirely belong to Tusol."

When Heinz said this, his tone changed subtly.

Xilun noticed this change.

He leaned back in his chair, his hands crossed on the table.

"You are testing me."

This is not a question, and Heinz did not deny it.

"We need to know whether you're a dog released by the Tusol family, or—"

"It's alright," Xilun said for him.

The corners of his mouth curved slightly, but it wasn't a smile.

"The third elder of the Tusol family, Oin, sent three second-tier extraordinary beings to kill me half a month ago. The battle in Klein Lane was my answer."

His tone was flat.

"I cultivate using Tusol's resources, but I am not their weapon. Whoever tries to cut me with a weapon, I will cut back—no matter what their name is."

There was a two-second silence in the room before Daphne spoke for the first time.

Her voice was colder than Heinz's, as if it had been taken from an ice cellar.

Anyone can say nice things.

Xilun looked at her.

Daphne's gray eyes met his gaze directly, without flinching.

"You wrote to us saying you wanted to cooperate in cracking down on smuggling rings, but you're a Brotherhood governor with over a hundred men under your command, why would you need to contact us?"

"Because it's not enough," Siren said frankly.

He stood up and walked to the map on the wall.

"This is the current situation in the North District."

His finger tapped several locations on the map in turn.

"The three smuggling groups, Anchor, Deepwater, and Black Sail, have joined forces. Black Sail's leader, Biglen, is dead, but the rest have been absorbed into Anchor. Their base is here—"

The finger stopped at the old dock.

"An old shipyard four miles east of the North District. At least forty people have been in and out of this place over the past two days."

Heinz's eyes followed the movement of his fingers, his expression focused.

"How many second-order beings do they have?"

"According to my intelligence, there are at least four. Victor of Anchor and his second-in-command John, Monica of Deepwater and another man named Chester. Black Sails may have one more Tier 1 named Grant left, but I'm not sure."

"Four Tier 2s." Daphne narrowed her eyes slightly. "Add over thirty Tier 1s and musketeers—how do you think they'll manage to fight?"

Xiren returned to the table and sat down.

"They will attack Nancang."

These words were like a pebble thrown into the water, causing the expressions of the three people to change slightly almost simultaneously.

"South Warehouse is a resource transfer point for the Brotherhood," Siren explained.

"It's located in the south, some distance from the mansion, and there aren't many guards. The smuggling gang's purpose in attacking the South Warehouse wasn't to rob anything—they wanted to lure me out."

"They believed that I would definitely go to the rescue myself."

"And then?" Karl spoke for the first time, his voice like sandpaper scraping against sheet metal.

"Then—" Xilun's finger landed at the intersection of Old Bridge Street and Riverside Road.

"ambush."

"Here. In the middle of Laoqiao Street. On both sides are the outer walls of old warehouses, there are no side roads, and the terrain is narrow."

Yesterday afternoon, my people saw an old man in a gray overcoat drawing marks on the ground with chalk at this location—most likely a field master scouting the area.

Heinz frowned.

"Field?"

"Seale the area." Xilun nodded.

"There's a field master in the smuggling gang. They're from Deep Water. They plan to set up a sealing field on Old Bridge Street, and once I go in, it will trigger and trap me."

Then four second-tier soldiers surrounded them, and the musketeers fired a volley from their high ground.

After he finished speaking, he looked at the three people opposite him.

"That's their whole plan."

The room remained silent for a while before Heinz broke the silence.

"How do you know so much?"

"Follow them," Siren said curtly. "My men have been following them for two days, plus some...unexpected gains at the Moon Lake trade fair."

He did not go into details about the assassination of Biglen.

But Heinz clearly understood.

That so-called "unexpected gain" was probably the information Biglen revealed before his death.

Heinz lowered his head and pondered for a moment.

Then he looked up and looked into Siren's eyes.

"What is your counterattack plan?"

That's exactly what Xilun was waiting for.

He took out a piece of paper that already had markings drawn on it and spread it on the table.

"Three steps."

He held up three fingers.

"The first step – setting up an ambush in Nancang."

"The smuggling gang will send a second-tier officer with twenty men to attack the South Warehouse; this is their bait. But I won't fall for it. I'll have an ambush inside the South Warehouse beforehand—one of your two armed forces, plus fifteen men from my Brotherhood. Once they come in, we'll trap them."

Heinz nodded slightly.

"Step Two - Feigning Entrapment."

"Once the battle at Nancang begins, I will depart from the mansion and head towards Laoqiao Street. I will make their sentries see me move out, so they will think the plan has succeeded."

Daphne frowned.

"You want to walk right into the encirclement?"

"Yes," Siren said calmly. "But not alone."

He looked at the three of them.

"I need the three of you Tier 2 soldiers and the second armed force to come in with me."

Karl's eyes widened slightly.

"Do you want us to enter the field as well?"

"Their area is prepared for one person." A slight smile played on Xiren's lips. "If a dozen or so people go in, four of them will be second-tier extraordinary beings—"

"The suppression effect of the field will be greatly dispersed," Heinz finished for him.

"That's right. Besides—"

Xiren paused for a moment.

"Didn't you bring jamming equipment?"

The expressions of the three people changed simultaneously.

This time, even Daphne's usually icy face showed a hint of surprise.

"How did you know?" Her voice turned somber.

Xilun shrugged.

"You are an armed insurgent party. In the entire northern region, you are the only organization that has long fought against the Tusol family and the choir."

Fighting these two forces—without field interference equipment?

He looked at Daphne.

I don't believe it.

Daphne remained silent for a long while.

Then she slowly leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"You're smarter than I thought."

There was no praise in this statement, but there was also no hostility.

Heinz glanced at Daphne, then turned to Siren.

"We did bring the jamming equipment, which we modified ourselves—it can suppress the stability of the field within a 60-meter range for about 15 minutes."

It cannot completely destroy the field, but it can pause the field's blocking effect for fifteen minutes.

"That's enough," Siron said.

"Step Three—"