Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Gran fought three opponents alone, but lasted less than ten breaths before his shoulder armor was smashed by the mechanical arm armor, and the short-haired woman pierced his thigh with a sword.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, O'In threw a black smoke bomb.

The smoke exploded, carrying a pungent medicinal smell.

The burly man sneered and punched away the smoke, only to see that Oin had already retreated to the back door of the warehouse.

"Stop him!"

The short-haired woman darted out.

Oin raised his hand, and three fine needles flew out from his sleeve.

The short-haired woman dodged two bullets by sidestepping, and the third one grazed her shoulder, instantly turning her clothes black with decay.

She groaned and slowed down a beat.

Gran roared and lunged at the masked man, using his broken body to forcefully clear a path.

Oin did not turn back.

He rushed out the back door and disappeared in the direction of the abandoned stable.

"Oin!"

The burly man took two steps after him, but Gran grabbed his leg tightly.

The masked man raised his mechanical arm and punched Gran in the back of the neck.

Grant's body stiffened abruptly.

Another punch.

The sound of bones cracking rang out.

The third-tier Royal Guard deputy commander finally fell.

The short-haired woman clutched her shoulder, her face cold.

"Captured alive."

The stern-faced man said with displeasure, "Oin has run away."

"It won't go far."

The short-haired woman looked towards the back door.

"He's just seized power and can't stay away from Tusol for too long. Even if we don't catch him tonight, we can still tear a piece of his flesh off."

At that moment, Xilun walked out from behind the shelf.

He was holding a freshly pried-open iron box.

Inside were twelve bottles of cold blue potion, a few grayish-white crystals, and a packet of dried leaves with frost-like patterns.

The short-haired woman looked at him.

"Mr. Siren, you certainly know how to pick your timing."

Xilun closed the iron box.

Thank you.

The thank you was spoken naturally.

The short-haired woman's eyes flickered slightly.

Of course she understands.

The armed insurgents were able to locate this place accurately not solely due to Albert's own intelligence.

Someone released bait from the old water tower.

Someone also informed Albert that Oin might be transferring a batch of warehouse resources separately tonight.

The man was standing in the warehouse, calmly taking away his payment.

"The executive committee will remember your cooperation."

The Way of the Short-Haired Woman.

Xilun said, "I'm just informing our partners that someone wants to disrupt the balance in the North."

"That's very clear."

That's the truth.

The short-haired woman looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"If Oin knew you had betrayed him too, he would want to kill you."

Xilun continued inspecting the warehouse.

"He originally wanted to kill me."

The short-haired woman did not refute.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats came from afar outside the warehouse.

It must be that Tusol's guards noticed the disturbance and are on their way.

The three members of the armed insurgent party did not linger in battle.

They took away the unconscious Gran and also stole several documents that clearly belonged to the Tusol arms movement.

Before leaving, the burly man stood at the warehouse door and laughed loudly at the distant night.

"Tell Oin that the Tusor family is doomed."

The masked man added, his voice like the friction of metal.

"The armed insurgents are the true overlords of the North District."

They quickly retreated into the woods.

Xilun did not follow.

He stayed in the storeroom and picked out what he needed.

The Xuan Yin Breathing Technique requires more cold-elemental resources than expected.

Six bottles of Yinlingyuan Water.

Twelve pieces of Cold Bone Crystal.

Three packs of frost-patterned leaves.

There are also two boxes of sleep-inducing powder that can stabilize the mind and alleviate the backlash from cold.

If used sparingly, it would be enough for his spiritual practice for a year.

This is an extremely generous reward.

It was so thick that it almost destroyed nearly half a year's worth of the Brotherhood's profits.

But there was no joy on Siron's face.

He finished examining the last iron box, his fingertips pausing for a moment.

There is no lunar phase silver marrow.

The last ingredient for the facilitator is still not here.

Oin did not bring it.

Or rather, from the very beginning, Oin never intended to actually give it to them.

Xilun stood in the middle of the messy warehouse, his gaze slowly darkening.

Was the previous investigation correct?

Lunar silver marrow is not among the publicly available resources in Tusol, but rather hidden among the old items belonging to Old Brandon.

The missing moon phase bell.

He closed the iron box.

The sound of horses' hooves was getting closer outside.

Xilun picked up a leather suitcase full of resources, climbed out of the warehouse side window, and his figure quickly disappeared into the cold mist.

Half a mile away on the mountain path, Oin stopped, leaning against a tree trunk, his chest heaving violently.

His left sleeve was ripped open, and blood dripped from his fingertips.

Only two guards remained by his side.

One of them looked terrified.

"Chief, Deputy Commander Gran has been taken away by them."

Oin raised his hand, signaling him to shut up.

He looked back in the direction of the warehouse.

The fires there had already been lit, and the shouts and gunshots were broken into fragments by the night wind.

Oin's face was pale, but his eyes were as cold as a frozen lake.

"Silon".

He whispered the name.

He speaks very slowly.

That night, he captured Tusol.

It was also ripped open.

Austin's old subordinates will not submit to him.

The armed insurgents arrested Grant.

So many people in the hunting grounds heard him drag Xilun into the mess, but this incident in the warehouse will make all the smart people realize that Xilun is not his pawn.

The trouble is not over yet.

This is just the beginning.

"Back to the manor."

Oin straightened up.

"Have the guards block all mountain roads and announce that the armed insurgents assassinated the new chieftain of Tusor. Also, send men to the northern district."

The guard asked in a low voice, "Capture Xilun?"

Oin glanced at him.

The guard immediately lowered his head.

"No."

Oin said, "Don't touch him yet."

He wiped the blood off his hands.

"Touching him now will only make Albert laugh even louder."

In the depths of night, Xilun had already bypassed the mountain path and headed towards the carriage that had been left behind.

Rena stood by the car and visibly relaxed when she saw him appear.

"Young Master."

Xilun handed her the suitcase.

"Walk."

Rena didn't ask any further questions.

The carriage quickly drove away from the woods.

Inside the carriage, Xilun sat back with his eyes closed, listening to the fading sounds of chaos behind him.

He let out a breath.

It could be considered that he tricked Oin before he left.

That's not enough.

Oin is not dead.

The Tusol family did not truly collapse.

The armed insurgents were not benevolent either.

Albert helping him tonight doesn't mean he won't push him into an even more dangerous situation tomorrow.

Ultimately, it comes down to my own lack of strength.

We must advance to the third rank as soon as possible.

Otherwise, every maneuver would be like walking on a knife's edge.

As the carriage entered the northern district, the sky was already beginning to lighten with a pale white hue.

Siren lifted the carriage curtain and saw a newsboy running at the end of the street with a newspaper that had not yet been distributed, several gas lamp workers turning off the lights, and the faint sound of bells coming from the direction of Tusol in the distance.

Victoria is still asleep.

But many people have not slept all night.

He lowered the carriage curtain, his voice low.

"Lena".

"exist."

"Go back and inform Rhodes to draft three things."

Rena immediately took out her notebook.

"First, we must do everything we can to track down the moon phase clock and old Brandon's belongings; the last document may be hidden in there."

"Yes."

"Second, the mansion is sealed off; I am going into seclusion. All cold-elemental resources, mental stabilizing potions, and mind-purifying incense are to be concentrated in the underground cultivation room. No one is to use them without my order."

Reina paused, her pen poised.

"clear."

"Third, closely monitor the movements of the Tussor family. Whoever makes the first move—Auston's former subordinates, the Oin Guard, the Armed Insurgents, the Noble Council, or the City Hall—must be recorded first."

Xilun closed his eyes.

"The North District is going to be in chaos."

Rena looked up at him.

Outside the car window, the morning mist swirls and clings to the street.

Xilun's face was hidden in the shadows, his calm demeanor devoid of any sense of relief at surviving such a calamity.

He was like a knife just pulled from blood.

Don't rush to swing it.

It simply re-sheathes itself, waiting for the next time it is drawn, its blade even colder.

……

It was still dark.

The air at Tusol Manor was thick with the smells of gunpowder, blood, and the bitter tang of burnt wood, as if someone had buried the entire night's carnage in the fog, and the smell wouldn't dissipate until the fog lifted.

The council chamber on the east side of the main house was brightly lit.

The gate was filled with guards, their armor still covered in the frost of the night, their boots making a low rustling sound as they stepped over the stone steps.

The hall was even quieter, so quiet it was almost suffocating. Instead of a white banquet cloth, the table was covered with warehouse lists that hadn't yet been filed; the ink was fresh, but the corners of the papers were curled up.

Oin sat at the end of the long table. His outer robe had been changed, and his left arm had been re-bandaged. Layers of white cloth were wrapped around it, but blood still slowly seeped out from the inside, spreading into a small patch of dark red at the cuff.

He acted as if he didn't see it.

The old manager in charge of inventorying the warehouse knelt on the ground, his back bent low, but the list in his hand was trembling violently.

"Keep reading," Oin said.

The voice was not loud, and could even be described as calm.

The more this happened, the less people in the hall dared to look up.

The old steward swallowed hard and continued reading: "The iron boxes numbered three to seven in the east row of the old warehouse... were all pried open, and the Cold Bone Crystal, Yin Spirit Source Water, Frost Pattern Leaf, and Tranquil Sleep Powder... were all gone. The west side medicine shelf was missing twelve bottles of Cleansing Medicine, five boxes of Cold-type Stabilizer, and nine bottles of Tier 2 Healing Medicine..."

"Where are the ordnance documents?" Auro suddenly asked, his voice laced with suppressed anger.

The old steward's face turned pale, his forehead almost touching the floor: "...and so are missing. The troop rotation order for the North District Guards, the manor's gunpowder reserve order, and two orders for the mobilization of private soldiers within the city...all gone."

"waste!"

Oro threw the silver cup beside him.

The silver cup struck the pillar, bounced back, and rolled on the ground with a piercing sound.

The old steward was so frightened that he trembled and didn't dare to lift his head.

The clerks standing nearby were pale-faced, some of them gripping pens so tightly their knuckles were blue.

Oro stood up, his chest heaving violently.

He hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were bloodshot.

The elation of gaining the upper hand in the hunting grounds last night, seizing power in the main house, and having everyone bow their heads hadn't even had time to settle in my heart before it was brutally shattered by the ambush in the warehouse.

Gran was taken away, a group of guards died, and the worst part was that he thought he had dragged Xiren into the mud, but the other party turned around and tricked him and his son.

This feeling of unease stuck in my chest grew hotter and hotter, almost burning away my reason.

"Father, I'm taking men to the North District." Auro stared at Oin. "Even if Albert's men are watching, there will always be an opportunity to strike. Xiren dared to climb the ranks by stepping on Tusor's face; he deserves to die—I'll personally go and kill him!"

The hall fell silent.

The old steward even held his breath.

Oin didn't speak immediately, but just looked at the list on the table, tapping his fingers lightly on the wooden surface.

The rhythm was light, yet it was like a nail driven into everyone's heart.

A moment later, he raised his eyes.

"no."

Oro was taken aback, then became even angrier: "Why not? He helped the armed insurgents plot against us last night. Are we going to wait for him to sell all the information and gather all the materials to advance to the third tier if we don't act now?"

"So you're going to go and die now?" Oin looked at him calmly. "Take your guts, fueled by anger, and charge into the North District, to the Brotherhood's door, and then what?"

Oro gritted his teeth, his facial muscles tensing.

"Since Albert dared to make a move last night, it means he has already prepared the second and third layers." Oin's voice was calm, but his eyes grew colder and colder.

"Since Xilun dared to pass on the message, it means he anticipated my reaction. He knew I would hate him, and he knew you would want to kill him even more than I do... Would he have done this if he hadn't kept a backup plan?"

Oro opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Oin leaned back in his chair and slowly closed his eyes.

At that moment, no one in the hall dared to utter a sound.

The scene from last night flashed before his eyes once again.

It wasn't the sight of Gran falling, nor the sound of a guard's bones being smashed, but rather the cold light that almost grazed his throat—too fast, too close, so close that he could even smell the medicinal scent etched onto the blade.

Any slower and his neck would be cut open, blood would splatter on the chests in the storeroom, and the power Tusol had just seized would become the subject of ridicule once again overnight.

Oin had seen too many people die in his life.

He witnessed his father's death when he was nine years old, and later personally saw many others pass away.

Enemies, fellow countrymen, traitors, useless subordinates... He always thought he had long been accustomed to the word "death" and understood better than anyone else what the root of power was.

But those ten breaths last night made him realize something clearly for the first time.

So it turns out I can die too.

Moreover, they were so close.

The thought didn't shame him; it only disgusted him.

I hate that feeling of tightness in my throat, a chill down my back, and every bone in my body telling me, "I'm almost done for."

He hated that someone had driven him to that point, and what he hated even more was that the person wasn't Austin, wasn't Albert, and wasn't even any of the three third-order individuals from last night—but Siron.

It was that young man, always with a calm expression, who seemed like he would never truly give up his life.

The candlelight flickered softly in the hall.

Oin opened his eyes, the weariness in them completely gone, leaving only a cold, hard light.

"Before last night, I always thought of him as a sharp but not heavy enough knife," Oin said slowly. "Now it seems I was wrong."

Oro's breath hitched.

He knew his father's tone all too well. The calmer the tone, the more it meant that he had already made up his mind.

"Father……"

"Sirlen is the first person who made me feel that if I don't deal with him quickly, he will threaten my life in the future," Oin said.

"Not now, but in the future—once he advances to the third rank, Tusor will no longer be able to suppress him. At that time, no matter which side he stands on, he will be a scourge."

Auro's murderous intent intensified suddenly: "Then we should seize this opportunity even more—"

"I told you, there's no rush to act," Oin interrupted him. "It's not that we won't kill, it's that we can't kill indiscriminately right now."

He reached out and tapped the list on the table.

"Gran was arrested, documents were leaked, the Royal Guard suffered heavy losses last night, and there are still some people in the main house who have not completely bowed down. Although the Elders' Council has lost its neck, the collateral branches are still watching, and the Council of Nobles is also watching."

At this moment, if I immediately send men to attack the northern district, all others will see is one thing—the new chieftain of Tusor has just seized power, only to be torn apart and left covered in blood, forced to cover up his disgrace through impulsive actions.

Oro clenched his fists so tightly that his nails almost dug into his palms.

He was not reconciled.

They were even more unwilling to admit that their father was right.

Oin glanced at him, his voice softening slightly but becoming even deeper: "You want to kill him, and so do I. But if you truly see him as prey, first learn to keep your footsteps hidden from your prey."

Oro's Adam's apple bobbed, and after a long pause, he responded softly, "...Yes."

The anger in the hall seemed to be suppressed and subsided.

Oin turned to the clerk on the other side.

"From now on, all news from the North District will be compiled separately, including information about the Brotherhood, the Armed Insurgents, Lund, the Third Charity Hospital, and all the movements related to old Brandon's belongings. Don't miss a single one."

The clerk hurriedly stood up: "Yes, clan chief."

"Keep a close watch on Xilun." Oin paused, then added, "But don't let him realize we're in too much of a hurry. Keep an eye on the informants outside the mansion, on the streets, at the pawnshops, pharmacies, watch repair shops, the docks, the tailors... Whoever finds out his true movements first will get double the reward."