Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 476 Honorary Director

"Schedule for tomorrow morning."

"Yes."

That night, Xilun didn't sleep for long.

He sat cross-legged in the underground training room, re-examining the relationship between the Xuan Yin Breathing Method, the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Method, and the Water-Dividing Talent.

The cold air was strong, the thunder was steady, and the water flowed freely.

If the three can be truly combined, it may form his unique three-tier combat system.

However, there are still obvious gaps in the training of the major tendons and ligaments of the body.

The existing breathing techniques are like three powerful rivers, but there is no network of channels that can guide them to the same place.

He needs a more advanced breathing technique.

Or, a place where one knows how to cultivate a third-order body.

The next morning, Siron took a car to the Brotherhood headquarters.

The streets were still wet, and the sound of horses' hooves could be heard through the fog.

The usual hustle and bustle was absent from the entrance of the guild hall; only two veteran members were guarding the door.

When they saw Xilun, their expressions were complex, a mixture of respect and unfamiliarity.

Xilun didn't say much and went straight upstairs.

Midas was already waiting in the conference room on the second floor.

He was thinner than before, his hair was neatly combed, his collar was buttoned up perfectly, and there were two cups of hot tea on the table.

When Midas saw Siren enter, he stood up.

"Congratulations."

Xiren shook hands with him.

"Thanks."

The two sat down.

The distant sound of factory whistles drifted in from outside the window, deep and drawn-out.

Midas did not take a detour.

"Siren, where would you like to play for in the future?"

Xilun looked at him.

Midas calmly asked, "Or rather, which organization do you intend to join? Are you seeking a stable position, or are you aiming to climb the ranks?"

Xilun picked up his teacup, but didn't drink it.

"Keep striving."

Midas sighed softly.

"really."

His sigh contained no surprise, only a weariness that he had foreseen.

"You won't settle down."

Celen did not deny it.

Midas looked at him, his eyes filled with emotion and a hint of inexplicable relief.

"In that case, there's no future in staying with the Brotherhood."

The meeting room fell silent.

If this statement had been made a year ago, it would have shocked many people.

The Brotherhood was once a ladder for Siren to climb higher, a sanctuary, and also a battlefield.

But now, this ladder is too narrow.

Tier 3 members cannot be trapped in the gang hall.

Midas continued, "I want you to be affiliated with the Brotherhood."

"nominal?"

"Honorary Director".

Midas smiled. "It sounds a bit hollow, but at least nominally, you're still a member of the Brotherhood. If the Brotherhood ever encounters a truly insurmountable obstacle in the future, I hope you can lend a hand."

He didn't try to hide it.

They didn't act like benefactors either.

"For the sake of the help you've given me over the years."

Xilun remained silent for a moment.

"Can."

Midas visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Xilun said, "If the Brotherhood doesn't willingly put itself in a deadly situation, I will do my duty to help."

"That's enough."

Midas picked up his teacup and took a sip.

The aroma of tea masked the weariness in his eyes.

"You haven't mastered the third-level breathing technique yet, have you?"

Xilun looked at him.

"There are some on the board."

Midas said, "It's not top-of-the-line, but it's cleaner than what's on the black market. If you like it, you can take a copy."

"I'll take a look."

"But there's one place I really recommend you visit."

Midas tapped his finger lightly on the table.

"Daewoo Dojo".

Xilun's eyes flickered slightly.

Midas said, "Besides the government and the church, it's one of the strongest organizations among the extraordinary beings in the lower city. They don't rely on noble bloodlines or church favors; they rely on physical training earned through generations of fighting. You're already at Tier 3; you'll receive ample treatment there."

Daewoo Dojo.

Xilun had heard of this name.

Fowles seems to have some connection to that place.

Fowles may have had an affair with Risa.

Risa's death was inextricably linked to him.

This line is not clean.

But in Victoria, which road is truly clean?

Midas seemed to sense his hesitation.

"Is there an old grudge?"

"Maybe."

"possible?"

Xilun said, "It could just be a rumor. Or maybe the other party doesn't care at all."

Midas smiled.

"Then you should go even more. After reaching the third level, many troubles are unavoidable. You need to know whether others care or not, instead of guessing."

Xilun picked up his teacup and finally took a sip.

The tea has gone warm.

"I'll consider it."

"It's not that I've been thinking about it for too long."

Midas looked at him. "Siron, you've risen too quickly. Speed is both a good thing and a bad thing. Many people will fear you, but there will also be those who want to dismantle and study you before you've truly established yourself."

"I know."

Midas nodded.

"That's good."

Southern District, stronghold of the armed insurgent party.

The lights in the underground conference room were brighter than during the day, with several gas lamps hanging above the long table, making it impossible to hide the expressions on everyone's faces.

A newly delivered intelligence report was placed on the table.

The paper is very thin.

The content was so heavy that it left the dozen or so people in the room silent for a long time.

Xilun has been confirmed to have advanced to the third-order aberration.

The three hunters from Tusor were pursued for more than 20 days off the coast of Baiya Town.

Clement, the third-tier Royal Guard captain of Tusol, was killed in action.

Xilun survived.

These few lines of text, like nails, nailed all the disdain to the table.

Someone whispered, "Is the information reliable?"

Colleen sat on the left side of the long table, her short hair neat and her expression cold and hard.

"The Tusol family has given Clement a proper burial. The three lines—North District, White Cliff Town, and South District Wharf—all match up. Villagers near the abandoned mines have also seen the frozen canals."

The man fell silent.

Another middle-aged man frowned and said, "A little over a year ago, he was just a young man who could fight in the fraternity."

"That's why it's dangerous."

Colleen looked at everyone. "He's not an heir groomed by the nobility, nor is he a registered extraordinary being of the church. He fought his way up from the lower city through countless killings. Someone like that won't naturally follow our rules after his advancement."

"But he's cooperating with us now."

"Cooperation is not about belonging."

At the far end of the conference room, Albert remained silent.

He was wearing a dark coat, with a half-empty cup of tea beside him, his eyes fixed on the intelligence report as if he were looking at a chess piece that had not yet been decided.

After a long while, he spoke.

"With Tusol losing a Tier 3, Oin dares not make a move for the time being. The Black Death Cult is watching him, and the Grey Hats may also be watching him. Because of his promotion, the Brotherhood will transform from a gang into a semi-public armed force."

He looked up.

"The question is not whether we should try to win over Xilun."

Everyone in the room looked at him.

Albert's voice was steady.

"The question is, what can we offer him to make him feel that getting closer to us is more valuable than distancing himself from us?"

Someone hesitated and asked, "Resources? Weapons? Cold-based materials?"

Those can only be purchased for a limited time.

Albert said, "Sirlen has passed the stage where she would be tied down by a few boxes of muskets and potions."

Colleen asked, "So what are you planning to do?"

Albert tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"Let him see the leader."

As soon as he finished speaking, a low murmur arose in the conference room.

An old man frowned: "Too fast. Although he's a third-tier cultivator, his background is complicated. He's connected to Tusor, the Black Death Cult, and an unknown third party. Isn't it too risky to let him contact the leader?"

Albert looked at him.

"It is precisely because of its complexity that we cannot simply engage in peripheral maneuvering. The more uncontrollable someone is, the more we must demonstrate our true influence to them."

The old man remained silent.

Colleen did not immediately respond.

She remembered that night at the Old St. Mary's Bell Tower.

Sewage, firelight, sacred bones, lesions, and Siron's almost cold, calm gaze amidst the chaos.

That's not someone who's easily swayed by slogans.

He values interests, but he also values boundaries.

He will cooperate, but he will not sacrifice himself.

Such people are both valuable and dangerous to armed insurgents.

"He might not want to see him," Colleen said.

"Then let's invite them first."

Albert said, "Be serious, don't act like you're recruiting ordinary gunmen. Tell him the leader is willing to meet with him to talk about the future of the North District, the Third Charity Hospital, and the gates of the Upper Town."

"Upper District?"

Colleen's eyes flickered.

Albert looked at the intelligence report on the table.

"What he needs most right now is not money."

"It is the road."

The meeting room fell silent again.

Albert got up and walked to the map on the wall.

On the map, the North District, South District, Tusol Estate, Third Charity Hospital, and Brotherhood Mansion were all marked with nails of different colors.

Next to the name Xilun, there used to be just a black nail.

Today, Albert has personally replaced the nails with silver ones.

"Starting today, the assessment rating for West London will be adjusted."

He said, "I will no longer treat him as an ordinary gang leader. I will classify him as a high-level combatant who can be cooperated with, and a potential leader of an independent force. Any action against the Brotherhood must be reported to me first."

"Yes."

"Also, we'll investigate the grey top hat line as well."

Albert turned around, his tone turning colder. "I don't like people wearing hats and pretending to be ghosts on my chessboard."

At the same time, at Tusol Manor.

The garden was meticulously manicured after the rain, as if the recent coup, bloodshed, and funeral were nothing more than sewage in the gutter, unworthy of being seen by the main house.

In the study, Oin stood by the window.

He stood upright, but his face was still somewhat pale.

Clement's death was like a thorn, embedded deep within the new family order.

Oro stood behind him, his eyes burning with suppressed anger.

"Father, are we just going to let this go?"

Oin did not turn back.

"You've asked three times already."

Uncle Clement is dead.

"I know."

"Killed by Xilun!"

Oin finally turned around.

His gaze was calm.

"Clement died while carrying out my orders."

Oro was taken aback.

Oin walked to his desk and picked up a piece of intelligence.

"He died from Siren's gun, and also from my judgment. I judged that Siren's foundation was unstable, that Clement was capable of intercepting him, and that the water-blocking nets and tide-hunting crossbows could suppress his waters. As it turned out, I underestimated him."

Oro gritted his teeth: "That's why he deserves to be killed even more."

"We can't kill him now."

"We still have the guards, family resources, and—"

"There's the Elders' Council that's just been stabilized, the disgruntled collateral branches, the armed insurgents who are watching us, and the frontline officers who haven't completely won over the cause even after losing Austin."

Oin interrupted him.

"You're willing to gamble everything, just to avenge Clement?"

Oro's face turned red.

"So, are we just going to do nothing?"

Oin looked at his son.

This young man had courage, anger, and the pride that a nobleman should have, but he lacked the calmness to wait for the knife to fall.

"Hate is not a command."

Oin's voice wasn't loud, but it made Oro lower his head.

"The news of Xilun's advancement to the third rank has already spread. He is no longer a nobody who can be dealt with quietly. If we make a move against him, Albert will be watching, the Black Death Church will be watching, and there may be people in the Upper City watching as well. If we fail in our first strike, Tusor will bleed again."

He threw the intelligence report on the table.

"Therefore, let's leave it at that for now."

Oro clenched his fist.

Oin looked out the window.

"But not moving doesn't mean giving up."

His eyes turned cold.

"Investigate the source of his breathing technique, investigate everyone around him, investigate the Brotherhood's accounts, and investigate that old gunslinger named Lund. Especially the lines involving the Daewoo Dojo, the Armed Riot Party, and the Third Charity Hospital. If he wants to continue moving up the ranks, he will inevitably have to make contact with external organizations."

"Wait until he leaves the Brotherhood's protection?"

"Wait until he follows other people's rules."

Oin said slowly, "A person is hardest to kill in his own territory. But once he wants to enter a higher realm, he must bow his head, register, trade, and prove himself. At that time, he will have more weaknesses than he does now."

Oro remained silent for a long time.

"Father, did Uncle Clement have any regrets before he died?"

Oin's gaze paused slightly.

He remembered the body that had been brought back.

A bullet wound pierced his chest, and his right arm was frostbitten and cracked, but there was no fear on his face.

Clement spent his entire life following orders.

He may have regretted many things.

But he probably didn't participate in that final battle.

"He is the knight of Tusol."

Oin said, "A knight dies on the battlefield; he doesn't need anyone else to guess or regret it for him."

Oro lowered his head.

"Yes."

Oin picked up another intelligence report.

Several names were written on it.

Brotherhood.

Lund.

Grey top hat.

Daewoo Dojo.

His finger paused for a moment on "Daewoo Dojo".

"Any news from Fowles?"

"Still in the South District."

Oro said, "I heard he's been staying deep inside the dojo lately and hasn't shown his face."

"Send over the news that Xilun might go to the Dayu Dojo."

Oro looked up: "Borrow a knife?"

"No."

Oin said calmly, "It's just to let those who need to know know. If the old grudges are real, they will naturally resurface. If they are false, it will also allow us to see the attitudes of Xilun and Dayu Dojo."

He looked out the window at the gray sky.

"Any new rank 3 member needs to choose a position."

"Sillen thought he could keep not choosing."

Oin's voice was very soft.

"But Victoria will not allow a sharp knife to hang in mid-air forever."

Southern suburbs, Lund's old courtyard.

The afternoon breeze blew through the cracks in the broken window, and there was a faint smell of medicine in the room.

Lund sat at the table with an old map spread out in front of him.

This map is not a map of Victoria, but rather a map of the old coastline of the South Road colony.

The edges and corners are moldy, and the ink lines have faded.

Several port names were circled, with one of them having small print next to it.

Roy George.