Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

Chapter 143 Face

"Someone's here, looking for Director Liu." The young intelligence officer's hand trembled slightly.

You can call from this number.

There's only one possibility: it's very strong.

The young intelligence officer held the receiver, paused for several seconds, then quickly put it down, picked up his cell phone from the table, and dialed the director's number.

The section chief, surnamed Liu, was in his fifties, a middle-aged man with a beer belly. He was usually all smiles, looking like a peacemaker. But now, woken from his sleep, his tone wasn't friendly: "What's wrong?"

"Director Liu, I just received an urgent call. They said they need to speak to you."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. Then, Director Liu's voice suddenly changed.

"Tell him to wait a moment, I'll be right there."

In the reception room, Director Liu met Lu Chen.

After learning Lu Chen's purpose for coming, Director Liu began to sweat.

He couldn't afford to offend either of the two powerful figures.

He had no choice but to bite the bullet and give orders to his men.

"Check the list of gold medalists from the Unforgivable Pavilion. See if Sun Fan's name is on it."

The young intelligence officer quickly turned on his computer, logged into the martial arts association's internal system, and retrieved the list of gold medalists from Wushelou.

It was an encrypted file, normally only accessible to those at the section chief level or higher. He entered the password, and the file opened. Page after page were densely packed names, filled with bounty amounts and mission statuses.

He found the part starting with "S" and slid his finger down the screen. Sun ———— Sun ————

Then he stopped.

The name Sun Fan was prominently displayed on the list, highlighted in bold red next to the posting status.

He picked up his phone and dialed back. "Director Liu, we found it. Sun Fan's name is on the gold medal list, and the status is 'in progress.' The reward is five million."

Then Director Liu sighed, his voice sounding as tired as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Five million to buy the life of a first-grade student.

This is indeed a major taboo.

Moreover, Sun Fan is still a minor.

Stifling the budding talents of martial arts is a grave taboo.

The problem is, their martial arts association has no jurisdiction over Wushelou.

If it were someone else, he might have been able to make excuses.

But the visitor was the current principal of the Dark Martial Arts School!

He could only cautiously ask, "What do you mean?"

"It was the Unforgivable Pavilion that broke the rules first. Our retaliation isn't considered breaking the rules, is it?"

Director Liu breathed a sigh of relief.

It turns out it was just a simple notification; did it really need to be such a big deal?

But then he was taken aback.

wrong.

The principal of the Dark Martial Arts School came in person to report.

What a huge show they're planning!

After seeing Lu Chen off, he went straight to the Martial Arts Association headquarters.

Lu Chen went outside and dialed a number. It took him a while to answer; the voice was deep and irritable, clearly someone who had just been woken up: "What is it?"

"Principal Tie, a student named Sun Fan from Dark Martial Arts School has been put on the No Mercy Tower's list. Gold level, five million bounty, status: in progress." The bronze-level assassin is already on his way.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and then the gruff voice suddenly burst into laughter.

The laughter was flamboyant, the laughter was manic!

"Alright, alright, while I was away, even the cats and dogs seem to have started to get restless."

"Go and report it. The rest don't need to be turned off."

The phone was disconnected.

The Wushu Association's intelligence building was just beginning to lighten.

The morning mist swirled through the mountains, shrouding the layered pavilions in a hazy white veil. Upturned eaves, carved beams, and painted rafters, the vermilion pillars gleamed dimly in the morning light. From afar, it resembled a royal garden hidden deep in the mountains—grand, solemn, and secluded from the world. But upon closer inspection, you would discover knife marks on the pillars, bloodstains on the steps, and behind the carved window frames, deadly traps that could kill instantly.

The history of the Unforgiven Tower is far longer than that of the Dark Martial Arts Academy. It is said to have been built three hundred years ago by a swordsman who had offended too many enemies in the martial world. Tired of the life of hiding, he spent ten years building this pavilion deep in the mountains, taking in a group of equally desperate people, teaching them to kill, and also teaching them how to live. After his death, his disciples and grand-disciples carried on his ideals, generation after generation, for three hundred years. In those three hundred years, the Unforgiven Tower grew from a small outpost in the mountains into one of the Thirteen Towers of the Heavenly Realm, the highest hall of assassins.

The origins of the Thirteenth Floor are shrouded in mystery and debate within the martial arts world. Some say it represents the respective forces founded by thirteen ancient martial arts masters; others say it's the guardian organization of thirteen True-level divine weapons; still others believe it's merely a code word referring to some unfathomable entity. Regardless of the explanation, one thing is universally acknowledged—the influence of the Thirteenth Floor of the Outer Heaven permeates every corner of the martial arts world.

The Unforgivable Tower is one of them. One of the most feared places.

Because its principle is the simplest, yet the most ruthless—once you're on the list, it's a fight to the death. It's not about money, but about the prestigious reputation on that mountain, centuries of credibility. No one has ever escaped unscathed from the No Mercy Pavilion's list.

At dawn, Tie Fusheng stood at the foot of the mountain, looking up at the pavilions that were faintly visible in the clouds.

A chilling morning wind swept up from the valley. He wore a black leather jacket over a grey T-shirt, and carried the mad knife over his shoulder. The blade was stained with dried, dark red blood—it was unclear whether it was his own or someone else's. He had come with only a knife, no supplies, and no way out. Alone, with only a knife, he would walk until he died.

The mountain path was long. The blue stone steps stretched upwards, like a gray snake winding its way into the clouds. Tie Fusheng strode up the path, his pace neither fast nor slow, each step firm and steady, as if walking on the stone path in his own backyard.

His leather boots pounded on the bluestone, making a dull thud that echoed through the valley like war drums.

As we approached the first mountain gate, a figure emerged from the mist.

He wore a gray robe, had gray hair, and a thin face, resembling a well-read scholar. But his hands were different; they had large knuckles and thick calluses on his fingertips, marks left by years of wielding knives.

"Principal Tie, I've heard so much about you." The man in gray bowed, his voice not loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the empty valley. "Wu She Lou does not receive outsiders. Please leave."

Tie Fusheng did not stop. He continued walking uphill, the knife still on his shoulder, his gaze fixed straight ahead, as if he hadn't seen the person at all.

The gray-clad man's expression changed slightly. He took a half step back, his right hand hanging at his side, his five fingers slightly spread like five daggers, ready to stab at any moment.