Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The rain hasn't stopped in the Greywater River.

Lead-gray clouds pressed down on the river like a tattered cloth soaked in water. The wind swept in from the old estuary, carrying the smells of fish, rust, gunpowder, and blood, brushing against the wild grass along the shore.

When Xilun came out of the safe house, he had changed out of his long black trench coat.

He threw the clothes stained with the blood of the little blue dragon and Balk into the fireplace and burned them to ashes.

The leather bag was slung over his shoulder, containing the remains of the Water Spirit, a third-tier magic potion recipe, the secret accounts left behind by Balk, and the heart of the water beast that had not yet completely lost its vitality.

The items were few, but enough to drive many in the North District crazy and to keep some members of the Tusol family awake at night.

Xilun left the ship and did not take the main road.

Beside a desolate tributary, there is an abandoned towpath, long neglected, with the stone slabs mostly swallowed by moss, and low shrubs and gray-white reeds growing on both sides.

The river flowed slowly beside me, its surface murky and seemingly calm, but deep within, tiny undercurrents pushed and shoved against each other.

He wasn't walking fast.

The newly awakened Water Splitting talent still carried a strange aftertaste, as if a second layer of touch was spreading out from under the skin.

The dampness, raindrops, rivers, puddles, and even the fine mist drifting in the wind all became much clearer.

This clarity isn't entirely comfortable.

It's like suddenly turning on a dozen lights in a dark room. The world is still the same, but things that were previously ignored suddenly flood your mind.

Xilun raised his hand, letting a raindrop fall onto his fingertip.

The raindrops didn't shatter immediately, but rolled gently on my fingertips, as if supported by some invisible force.

His mind stirred slightly.

The raindrop suddenly split in two, then closed again at the fingertip, sliding down the knuckle.

"Not stable enough."

Xilun said in a low voice.

The little green dragon can create walls of water during torrential rain, build water prisons under boats, and even drag people away with water ropes.

Although what you have just acquired is remarkable, it seems difficult to master, like having just obtained a knife but not yet learning how to truly wield it.

Even so, it is already amazing enough.

In the water, his speed, perception, and mobility are amplified.

If this fight with Balk had taken place underwater, the battle might have ended much sooner.

Thinking of this, Xilun paused slightly.

A very faint sound came from the river ahead.

It's not a fish.

It's not driftwood either.

That was the sound of oars cutting through the water, so deep that it was drowned out by the rain and wind, and ordinary people couldn't hear it at all from dozens of steps away.

But to Siron's ears, the sound was as clear as someone gently scraping a wooden board with their fingernail.

He looked up.

Behind the river bend, a narrow, long boat glided out, skimming along the reeds.

A burly man stood at the bow of the boat.

The man was wearing an oilcloth cloak, half his face was hidden in a wet beard, he had a short-barreled musket slung over his shoulder, a scimitar hanging at his waist, and seven or eight sailors dressed as pirates behind him.

Wang Huzi.

His converted steamship was nowhere to be found. He was now only accompanied by a few small boats, like a pack of water wolves that had caught a whiff of blood and refused to give up, quietly following along the tributary.

Wang Huzi's eyes were small, but very bright.

That kind of brilliance wasn't the sharpness of a clever person, but the ruthlessness honed by an old pirate at sea through countless storms and battles.

He saw Xilun, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"The Golden Knight".

Wang Huzi's voice was hoarse and carried a strong fishy smell. "You walked really fast. I almost couldn't find you."

The small boat docked.

Several pirates jumped onto the slippery stone slabs, spreading out in a semi-circle, their muskets lowered and aimed at Xilun's chest and abdomen.

Xilun glanced at it.

One second-order.

Two first-order.

The rest were ordinary, ruthless bandits who spent years risking their lives at sea; they were steady-handed and had sharp eyes, unlike ordinary thugs.

Wang Huzi dared to turn back halfway not because he was stupid, but because he was gambling.

I bet that Siron was injured in the battle of the Ironscale, I bet that he disembarked alone, and I bet that there was something more valuable than his life in that bag.

These pirates wouldn't care that Balk was dead, nor would they care who killed Little Green Dragon.

They only believe in what they can grab in front of them.

"You walked very nimbly on the Ironscale just now," Xilun said calmly.

Wang Huzi laughed heartily, his laughter muffled by the rain.

"At sea, you have to be opportunistic. Back then, you killed Balk and took the alien materials. My ship was damaged and several men died. It's not worth fighting head-on."

As he spoke, he raised the musket, its dark muzzle pointing at Siron's shoulder.

"Things are different now."

Xilun looked at him.

"What's different?"

"You're all alone."

Wang Huzi licked his rain-dampened lips. "No Ironscale, no control room, no group of second-tier idiots, and no subordinates."

He paused, his gaze falling on the leather bag on Xilun's shoulder.

"Leave your stuff behind: the Water Spirit's remains, the alien heart, and the good stuff from Balk. I only want the stuff, not your life."

That sounds like there's still a lot of room for maneuver.

The pirates, however, lowered their pace even further.

They are not looking to negotiate.

They were waiting for Wang Huzi to say something.

Xiren suddenly remembered Victor.

Both were men who lived on the edge, but Victor would let his men go even when faced with dire circumstances, while Wang Huzi was like rotten wood drifting in the waves, left with only greed and ferocity.

But this does not mean that Wang Huzi is superficial.

The fact that he's alive and able to make a living between the Greywater River and its estuary is not just due to his courage.

He chose this spot to make his move; there was a river in front, a wild forest behind, and reeds on both sides obscuring his view.

Gunshots would be drowned out by the sound of rain. Even if someone discovered a body, they would only assume it was another shootout between bandits.

Good location.

A good time.

If Xilun doesn't get the Water Splitter talent, this will be a troublesome interception.

"Are you sure you just want the items?"

Xilun asked.

Wang Huzi squinted.

He didn't like Xilun's tone.

It's too peaceful.

It was like asking what we'd have for dinner, not being pointed at with seven or eight muskets.

Wang Huzi suddenly remembered the sound of the Soul-Suppressing Nail piercing Xiao Qinglong's head on the deck of the Iron Scale.

In that instant, the torrential rain, the gunfire, and the screams seemed to be suppressed, leaving only the image of the blond youth bending down to pull out the nail.

This person is not an ordinary Tier 2.

That's why he didn't open fire right away.

"I'm in a good mood today."

Wang the Bearded grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "Put your things down, take off your coat, put your hands behind your head, and take thirty steps back. You can leave once I've made sure everything's alright."

Xilun nodded.

He reached out and took the bag.

A hint of joy flashed in Wang Huzi's eyes.

The next moment, Xilun casually tossed the bag aside.

The bag didn't fall to the ground, but instead sank into the river.

Wang Huzi's expression changed drastically.

"shot!"

Bang bang bang!

The muskets fired in unison.

The rain was torn apart by lead bullets, and white smoke and fire exploded on the desolate towpath, creating a pungent smell.

Xilun leaped out just before the gunshot rang out.

He did not retreat, nor did he rush towards the pirates; instead, he plunged straight into the greywater river.

thump!

The murky river water swallowed the black trench coat.

A few lead bullets hit the water's surface, splashing up tiny droplets, only to be swept away by the undercurrent.

"Get in the water!"

Wang Huzi roared, "Keep it in the water! Don't let him get away!"

The two pirates, who were excellent swimmers, immediately tumbled into the river.

They make a living at sea year-round, and underwater combat is their specialty. They all carry short blades around their waists, and once they enter the water, they dive downwards like fish.

But they soon realized something was wrong.

The river water is too cold.

It was colder than a greywater river after a summer rain; it felt like dark water melting in a deep winter ice cellar, seeping into your bones through your ears, nose, and the corners of your eyes.

Even more strangely, there was no sign of Siron underwater.

I clearly saw him jump down, and the bag sank not far away, but suddenly the water around me became layered, as if countless transparent curtains were blocking my way.

One of the pirates reached out to grab the bag.

Just as my fingertips were about to touch the bag strap, the bag was suddenly lifted up by a stream of water and gently slid to the side.

The pirate's eyes widened.

The next moment, a hand reached out from behind him and pressed against the back of his neck.

There was no flash of blades.

There was no struggle.

With a simple downward press of that hand, the water flowed in from all sides like a millstone, simultaneously locking his mouth, nose, chest, and limbs.

The pirate frantically exhaled bubbles and swung his short blade wildly, but he couldn't even touch the hem of his enemy's clothes.

Another pirate, realizing his companion was missing, turned around abruptly.

He saw a pair of calm eyes.

In the murky river, Xilun resembled a true monster belonging to the underwater world, his blond hair pushed back by the undercurrent, his face clear and indifferent. There was no chaotic current around him; instead, a thin layer of space was created between the currents.

The pirate's heart skipped a beat.

He opened his mouth as if to shout.

The bubble had just rolled out of his throat when a thin stream of water was drawn from the side.

Snapped!

There were no crisp sounds underwater, only muffled vibrations.

The pirate's neck was whipped to the side, and he spun around and crashed into the muddy riverbed.

On the shore, Wang Huzi's face grew increasingly grim.

There was no response after the two people went into the water.

The water surface was only covered with dense ripples caused by raindrops, with a few bubbles occasionally rising to the surface before being swallowed by the murky river.

"Boss..."

A pirate nearby bobbed his Adam's apple. "Should we retreat?"

Wang Huzi slapped him across the face.

"Fuck your mother!"

He cursed fiercely, but his eyes were fixed on the river.

My battle-hardened intuition is screaming.

This river is wrong.

Or rather, the man in the river wasn't right.

Wang Huzi suddenly raised his musket, aimed at the spot where Xilun had entered the water, and fired two shots. He then snatched a black oil bomb from his men, lit it, and threw it into the river.

boom!

The water surface exploded, and black oil and flames briefly spread out. The rain then quickly extinguished the flames, leaving behind a large oil slick.

In that instant, Wang Huzi saw Xilun.

He stood less than three feet below the surface of the river, looking up at himself.

It's not floating.

It's not a struggle.

Instead, it stood there steadily.

It's like standing on an invisible underwater staircase.

Wang Huzi's scalp tingled.

"withdraw!"

He finally roared out that word.

But it was too late.

The river suddenly parted to both sides.

A narrow, deep ditch rushed straight down from the bank onto the small boat, as if an invisible blade had cleaved the entire river bend. The boat lost buoyancy and sank suddenly, throwing the pirates on board to the side.

Immediately afterwards, the separated river waters suddenly merged back together.

boom!

The small boat was knocked sideways by the current.

Screams, splashes, and the clanging of guns mingled together.

Wang Huzi reacted the fastest, slamming his foot heavily onto the edge of the overturned boat, using the momentum to leap towards the shore. After all, he was a second-tier extraordinary being, with a powerful physique. In mid-air, he could even draw his curved sword and unleash a tearing force of energy towards the water.

A white line was cut through the water's surface.

Xilun, however, was not in that white mark.

The moment Wang Huzi landed, his ankle suddenly tightened.

A water rope emerged from the river and wrapped around his leg like a living thing.

"roll!"

Wang Huzi roared and slashed back with his curved sword.

The water rope was cut.

But the second, third, and fourth water ropes had already gotten tangled up.

They are not hard, but extremely difficult to withstand force. The blade cleaved in, the water dispersed, then converged again from elsewhere, holding his body firmly in place.

Wang Huzi finally understood how troublesome Little Green Dragon had been back then.

As he stood on the shore, the water, like the hand of an enemy, seeped out little by little from his feet, from the rain, and from his soaked clothes, dragging him toward death.

He bit his tongue hard, his chest bulged, and he let out a low growl like a wild beast.

The power of the second-tier Ripper erupted, and the water ropes wrapped around his legs exploded inch by inch.

He ignored his men who had fallen into the water and turned to rush into the depths of the wilderness.

Wang Huzi had robbed merchant ships, killed noble private soldiers, clashed with naval patrol boats, and even clung to a broken mast for three days during a stormy night.

It's not that he hasn't seen monsters before.

But he had never seen someone who had just been fighting hand-to-hand on the Ironscale Ship suddenly become able to manipulate the river like a mutant.

This is not something that should exist in a second-order system.

This is not something he can steal.

For the first time, Wang Huzi felt hatred for his own greed.

Just leave directly.

As long as you don't look back.

As long as I don't think about that damn handbag.

The wind and rain lashed his face as he rushed into the desolate forest, the sound of water fading into the distance behind him.

He had just breathed a sigh of relief when the puddle in front of him suddenly rippled slightly.

Xilun emerged from the rain.

The black trench coat clung to her body, her hair was dripping wet, and she still had the leather bag slung over her shoulder.

He didn't have a gun.

He didn't carry a knife.

He just stood there quietly.

Wang Huzi stopped abruptly in his tracks.

His chest heaved violently, his beard was covered in water droplets, and the ferocity in his eyes was gradually suppressed by surprise and doubt.

"What exactly are you?"

Xilun did not answer.

He raised his hand, and the surrounding raindrops seemed to be pulled, briefly deflecting and densely slanting towards Wang Huzi.

Wang Huzi gripped his curved knife tightly.

At that moment, he suddenly remembered something the old captain had said to him many years ago when he first went to sea.

The most terrifying thing at sea is not the storm, nor the navy, nor the sea monster.

You think you understand the sea.

Wang Huzi grinned, but his smile was ugly.

"Golden Knight, I admit defeat today. You killed my man, so be it. I don't want the loot anymore. From now on, if I see you along the Greywater River, I'll retreat three miles."

Xilun looked at him.

"You just said you only want the things, not my life."

Wang Huzi's heart sank.

I misspoke.

He slowly lowered his curved blade. "Sea people have foul mouths; you can ignore me."

The rain was pattering.

In the desolate forest, only the sound of water droplets tapping on the leaves could be heard for a moment.

Xiren took a step forward.

Wang Huzi's back tensed, and he glanced to the left and right, searching for a last escape route.

Yet every puddle, every patch of wet mud, every blade of grass soaked by the rain seems to hold eyes.

He suddenly realized that he wasn't being blocked by one person.

Instead, it was blocked by this rain, this river, and this wet wasteland.