Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Mud and water splashed everywhere.

"Freeze it," Lund said. "Don't touch it with your hands."

Xilun looked at the scrap steel.

He didn't move immediately.

After a moment, he slowly inhaled.

The dampness in the courtyard gathered in front of him, but instead of turning into a water line, it was like an invisible mist that enveloped the piece of scrap steel.

Xilun exhaled.

The white mist disappeared three inches from the lips.

The next instant, a layer of frost appeared on the surface of the scrap steel.

The frost color is very light.

It then gets darker.

The black steel emitted a very low creaking sound, as if something inside was contracting, twisting, and breaking.

Saiwei instinctively took half a step back.

Lund squinted.

"stop."

West London receives interest.

The temperature in the courtyard slowly rose.

Lund stepped forward and tapped the scrap metal with the butt of his gun.

clang.

The first sound was fairly solid.

The second time, the sound became crisper.

On the third fall, a thin crack appeared on the surface of the scrap steel.

Lund stared at the crack for a long time before saying, "This isn't a frozen surface."

"no."

"Can you send the chill inside?"

"Just touched it a little bit."

How deep?

Xilun pondered for a moment.

"About two fingers."

Lund looked up at him, his expression hard to describe.

Saiwei couldn't help but ask, "Two fingers isn't enough?"

Lund ignored her and continued, "Where are the living creatures?"

Xilun paused for a moment.

"I froze Clement's wrist. Later, the cold also triggered an old injury on his right arm."

Lund certainly knew this.

Even though he heard Xilun say it himself, he still couldn't help but frown.

It can freeze steel, freeze flesh and blood, and freeze attacks.

This is no longer a simple cold-based breathing technique.

The extraordinary Xuan Yin Breathing Technique seems to have finally revealed its true brilliance after reaching the third level.

"Don't use it like that in front of others in the future," Lund said.

Xilun looked at him.

Lund tapped the cracked piece of scrap steel with the tip of his gun.

"There aren't many knowledgeable people in the lower city, but they're not nonexistent. If you freeze people to death, people will only fear you; if you freeze and damage extraordinary weapons, crack steel, people will start wondering how much your breathing technique is worth, whether they can steal it, and if they can't steal it, whether they can destroy it."

Xilun nodded.

"clear."

Lund turned and went back into the house.

"That's it for morning exercises, time for your second meal."

Saiwei was stunned.

"How long ago did you eat?"

Lund said matter-of-factly, "He's already at level three, how can he gain weight if he doesn't eat more?"

Xilun wanted to say no.

But the hunger pangs in his stomach quickly silenced him.

After his promotion, his physical exertion became even more extreme than before.

Last night's meditation seemed peaceful, but in reality, I was constantly repairing my injuries, taming the effects of the medicine, and stabilizing the chill. This morning I practiced archery and gunplay for another half hour, and now my stomach is extremely empty.

The fire in the stove inside the house was relit.

Savi heated up a pot of the leftover stewed beans from last night, and also chopped up some smoked fish and dark bread. Lund pulled out a half-empty bottle of wine from deep inside the cupboard, and was about to pour it when Savi glared at him and stopped him.

"Your injury hasn't healed yet, have some tea."

Lund looked at Xilun.

Xilun lowered his head and ate his beans, pretending not to see.

Lund snorted and shoved the bottle back in.

"ungrateful."

Savi sat to one side mending an old apron, muttering, "If he had any conscience, he should have fixed the refrigeration unit properly for me. Otherwise, it'll break down again in no time."

Xilun swallowed the bread.

"Can."

Saiwei looked up: "Really?"

"I can't fix machines."

"Then what did you promise?"

"We can stabilize its temperature first."

After saying that, Xilun got up and walked to the corner.

The copper pipes of that old refrigeration unit were still oozing water, and the inner liner maintained a good level of coldness, but the gears were a bit stuck and made a slight noise.

Xilun squatted down and looked for a moment.

He couldn't understand the machine's structure.

But he can sense moisture, temperature differences, and the subtle contractions inside the metal.

He raised his hand and pressed it on the outer shell.

The chill didn't rush in; instead, it seeped in inch by inch along the copper sheet, pressing down on the overheated bearing and bypassing the already fragile seams.

A few breaths later, the noise disappeared.

The refrigerator rotated smoothly, as if I had suddenly become ten years younger.

Saiwei stared, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Even the modern freezers in the homes of nobles aren't this quiet."

Lund took a sip of tea and said calmly, "That's why I said, don't let anyone know."

After those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the room became slightly somber.

Saiwei also stopped joking.

She understood what Lund meant.

In the lower city, a person who knows how to fight is valuable.

A Tier 3 Extraordinary is more valuable.

But a Tier 3 weapon that can freeze extraordinary weapons, stabilize potions, suppress pollution, repair refrigeration equipment, and may even play a special role in the processing of cold-type resources is not valuable.

That would be something many people would be thinking about.

Xilun sat back down at the table.

Lund looked at him and suddenly asked, "What are your plans now?"

This problem came very suddenly.

But Xilun knew that Lunshi had been waiting for his answer since last night.

He didn't speak immediately.

The sky outside the window gradually brightened.

Footsteps increased on the street, wheels rolled over the stone pavement, horses snorted, and the soup vendor moved to another alley to continue his hawking.

He is now at the third level.

When he returns to the Brotherhood, everyone will cheer and elevate him to a higher position.

Tusol will be watching him.

The armed insurgents will weigh him.

The Church of the Black Death continued to seek opportunities.

Those in the North and South districts who once had grudges, resentments, or dealings with him will reassess his worth.

But where should we go next?

Expand the Brotherhood?

Revenge on Tusol?

Investigating the Third Charitable Hospital?

Looking for a higher level of breathing techniques?

Entering the Upper City District?

Every road is like a bridge in the fog; you can see the starting point, but not the end.

"I haven't thought it through yet," Xilun finally said.

Lund was not surprised.

"Just tell the truth."

Xilun gently stroked the rim of the glass with his fingers.

"I now know I shouldn't have acted so hastily; my foundation is unstable, and my injuries haven't healed yet."

The Brotherhood needs to stabilize; further expansion is not advisable. Oin won't directly attack me for now, but he'll definitely look for an opportunity. The Black Death Cult is even more troublesome; they won't give up just because I'm at Tier 3.

As he said this, he looked up at Lund.

"I need to understand what happens after the third tier."

Lund leaned back in his chair and remained silent for a moment.

"That's the question you should be asking today."

Xilun sat up a little straighter.

Lund didn't rush to speak.

He picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, as if sorting through experiences scattered from bygone years.

Saiwei also stopped sewing.

The only sound in the room was the steady, soft hum of the refrigeration unit.

After a while, Lund finally spoke.

"A third-tier extraordinary individual is already considered a high-level combatant in the current lower city."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was very deep.

"Most of the gangs, black market brokers, street gunmen, and low-level extraordinary individuals you've encountered before probably consider a strong person to be a second-tier extreme realm cultivator. Someone who can directly suppress a second-tier extreme realm cultivator is enough to have influence in an entire neighborhood."

"But the third tier is different."

"Once you reach the third tier, you're not just good at fighting anymore."

Lund pointed out the window.

"You represent deterrence."

Xilun did not interrupt.

Lund continued, "Third-tier fighters don't easily get involved in many fights in the lower city. It's not because they're kind-hearted, nor because they're afraid of death, but because once a third-tier fighter makes a move, things are no longer just street brawls."

"Many people will die."

"The house will collapse."

"It will alert the higher-ups."

"It will make the other three levels even more tense."

Xiren recalled the more than twenty days that Clement had spent chasing him.

That was no longer an ordinary encirclement and killing.

Tusol employed water-sealing nets, tide-hunting crossbows, blood-sensing compasses, the Royal Guard, and naval forces.

If the battlefield were in the streets and alleys of the North District, a large number of innocent bystanders would probably die.

Lund said, "So the Third Order is more often the one in charge, maintaining order, negotiating, or deciding the outcome at crucial moments. His presence signifies that certain lines cannot be crossed."

"For example, Tusol used to have Clement, so Oin dared to use the Royal Guard to suppress the North District."

"For example, the armed insurgent party has more than one third-rank official, so people listen to Albert when he speaks."

"Like you right now."

Lund looked at Xiren.

"From today onward, people will no longer just look at how many guns, how many men, or how much territory the Brotherhood has. The first question they will ask will be—where is Sirion?"

The room fell silent.

This sentence was spoken very softly.

But it was like a heavy piece of iron, pressing down on the table.

Xilun lowered his eyes.

He wasn't excited about it.

Because he knows that the other side of deterrence is responsibility.

If he falls, the Brotherhood will be torn apart.

Rhodes, Kusso, Rena, Yuri—all those who have followed him to this point will become the first targets of his purge.

Lund seemed to have read his mind.

"Don't make that face. You walked this path yourself; being afraid won't help."

Xilun said, "I'm not afraid."

"Then you should learn not to be stubborn."

Lund tapped the table.

"Those below the third rank fear your move. Those at the same third rank fear when you will make your move. Those above the fourth rank fear whether you have someone backing you."

Xilun looked up.

"Fourth tier".

Lund nodded.

Are there many Tier 4 buildings in the Lower City?

"There are some."

He didn't keep us in suspense.

"Very rare, so rare that an ordinary person may never hear their real name in their entire life."

Those people rarely stay on the streets, and they won't personally engage in battles over a few alleys. They're either allied with major powers, hide in certain familiar places, or simply act as gatekeepers.

"What gate are you guarding?"

"The gateway to resources, the gateway to circles, the gateway to the upper city."

Lund's voice was even lower.

"A third-tier rank can already shut people up in the lower city, but in front of a fourth-tier rank, a third-tier rank can only be qualified to sit down and talk, which does not mean that they can finish what they have to say."

Siren wrote this down.

"What about the fifth tier?"

Lund shook his head.

"I've never heard of a fifth tier in the lower district of Saint Laurent City."

He paused, then added.

"At least I haven't heard of it."

This statement leaves room for interpretation.

Victoria is too big.

The upper levels of Saint Laurent City are even deeper.

Some people do exist, but the lower district is never allowed to know.

Xilun picked up his teacup.

The tea had gotten a little cold.

He took a sip, and the bitterness spread across his tongue.

Third order.

High-level combat power.

deterrence.

Fourth-level goalkeeper.

Fifth rank, unknown.

The world is like a map that has been re-unfolded, with large swaths of gray fog rising from the once clear edges of the city blocks.

Lund looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Does it feel like you've just climbed up a wall, only to look up and see another mountain behind you?"

Xilun put down his teacup.

"At least we can see it now."

Lund was taken aback, then laughed and scolded, "That's right, you never complain about how long the road is."

Saiwei said in a low voice, "A long road isn't a bad thing; what's scary is that someone might not let you pass."

Xilun looked out the window.

On the street corner, the Black Death cult sentry disguised as a patient was still there.

The other person moved to a different position, hunched over, holding a broken bowl in their hands, as if they were shivering from the cold.

But his breathing was too steady.

The soles of the shoes are too clean.

Xilun withdrew his gaze.

"If they won't let us, we'll go around them."

Lund raised an eyebrow.

"Can't we get around it?"

Siren said calmly, "Then freeze it."

The fog was thicker in the afternoon than in the morning.

Lund's house was nestled between two old streets. Its walls were blackened by years of coal smoke, its window cracks were stuffed with yellowed old cloth, and a few dried herbs hung under the eaves, limp and damp.

The fire in the stove inside the house was not burning brightly.

But the refrigerator was surprisingly quiet.

It was like an old dog that had finally stopped panting, guarding the corner, its copper tubes covered with a uniform white frost, the medicine stored inside the liner kept stable in just the right amount of coolness.

Saiwei had to go check on it every now and then.

After watching, he glanced at Xilun with a complicated look.

It was like looking at a person, or like looking at a valuable piece of equipment that shouldn't be in the downtown area.

Xilun fell silent under their gaze.

Lund, on the other hand, seemed quite at ease.

He sat at the table, spread out an old map, and used an empty wine bottle, a teacup, and a broken gun barrel to press down the curled edges.

The map shows the lower city district of Saint Laurent.

The coastline from the North District, South District, West Port, Old Armory Street, Victoria Street, Municipal Square, Southern Suburbs, and Baiya Town is all on it.

Lund marked many places with small pencil marks.

Some of them have already faded.

Some are newly added.

Xilun saw the location of the Third Charity Hospital, which was surrounded by a heavy circle with a line of scribbled writing next to it.

Don't go in alone.

This sounds like something Lund would write.

It's direct, ugly, and has a commanding tone.

Lund pointed at the North District with the broken gun barrel.

"The first thing you need to do right now is not to fight anyone, but to let everyone know that you don't want to fight for the time being."

Xilun looked at the map.

"Show weakness?"

"No, it's stable."

Lund said, "Showing weakness makes others think you're incompetent. Being composed lets others know you're capable, but you're not in a hurry to overturn the table."

He moved the broken gun head toward the Tusol estate.

"Oin has just seized power, his foundation is not yet stable, and Clement is dead. What he wants most now is to tighten the reins of the family and suppress the onlookers. He hates you, but he won't personally come to fight you anytime soon."

"He will find an opportunity."

"certainly."

Lund nodded. "So you have to make sure he can't find an opportunity that's cheap enough."

Xilun understood what he meant.

Don't stray too far from your sphere of influence.

Do not venture into unfamiliar places alone.

Do not expose any weaknesses before your injuries have healed.

Don't think you can just fight your way through just because you've advanced to the third tier.

Lund then pointed to the stronghold of the armed insurgents.

"Albert's situation is more complicated."

Xilun looked up.

He needs me for now.

"Need and trust are two different things," Lund sneered.

"The armed insurgents won't like a completely disobedient Tier 3. When you were Tier 2, they could support you, use you, and push you to take the blows. Now that you're Tier 3, they have to reconsider whether you'll turn around and try to take the knife from them."

"Albebio is more like a politician."

"That's who he always was."

Lund took a sip of tea. "At least Oin will handle the gun himself, but Albert prefers people to think that they are firing the gun willingly."

That's a bit harsh.

But it's not wrong.

Xilun recalled the look in the young executive's eyes in the old printing factory.

Gentle, clear-headed, and always shrouded in calculation.

Albert was not a friend.

They are not enemies either.

At least not now.

He is someone who is temporarily on the same side.

Once the line changes, the muzzle of the gun will also change.

Lund's broken gun head finally came to rest at the Third Charity Hospital.