Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

Standing on the left is a long-legged bunny girl wearing black fishnet stockings, with a string of LED lights on her bunny ears that flash red and blue. She has a thin cigarette in her mouth and blinks her big eyes, which are painted with bright pink eyeshadow, at him.

On the right is a female fox wearing an open leather jacket, her tight leather pants outlining an indescribable silhouette.

The fox leaned against the wall, slowly swaying its large, fluffy tail at every passing animal, its eyes lazy yet practiced.

Looking further in, the whole street was filled with this scene.

A catgirl wearing a sequined miniskirt and stilt-like high heels strolled down the street, her chest fur specially trimmed into a heart shape.

A Doberman Pinscher, its muscles bulging, leaned against the nightclub entrance, wearing a studded collar, and said in a deep voice to every passerby, "There's a special performance tonight."

There was even a panda that wasn't wearing any proper clothes at all, just a few sequins hanging on its vital parts, sitting on the second-floor terrace, casually waving downstairs while munching on bamboo.

The words "Bionic Paw Pads - Customization Available" tattoo are faintly visible on the panda's belly.

Shen Jue, the swordsman and shield-wielder, took a deep breath, turned to look at the samurai chemms, his expression as complex as if he had swallowed a whole lemon.

"I thought," Shen Jue, the swordsman and shieldman, said slowly, word by word.

"In the world of memes, I've seen it all."

The samurai chemms chuckled, a rare occurrence, and patted his shoulder with a paw.

"Where do you think we are, brother?" Samurai Chems said.

"There is no logic here, only concentration."

A fox wearing a high-slit cheongsam gracefully walked past them. One of the buttons on the cheongsam popped open and bounced onto the shoe of Shen Jue, who was wearing a sword and shield.

He looked down at the button, then looked up at the furry ears, tails, and other things swaying all over the street, and closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

That's too abstract.

Even for someone who has been immersed in the world of memes, the steel city is far too abstract.

"Wow!"

"Bliss!!"

Outside the electronic screen, the Grim Reaper Shen Jue clapped his hands together, almost jumping up. The sound was so loud that even the Shen Jues next door gave him a disgusted look.

Death God Shen Jue stared intently at the red-light district street scene of the steel city on the screen, his eyes shining.

Those bunny girls in fishnet stockings, foxes in high-slit cheongsams, and pandas with only a few sequins hanging on the second-floor terrace.

The expression on Shen Jue's face could only be described as ecstatic.

The Grim Reaper Shen Jue's acceptance of Fu Rui's anthropomorphic animals was extremely high, to an outrageous degree.

He had discussed the famous "Furry Theory" with other Shen Jue on several internal occasions, dividing it into twelve levels of Fury from "pure beast" to "pure anthropomorphism", and publicly declared that he could freely switch between the third and eleventh levels of aesthetics.

He felt he could give it a try as long as it wasn't a purely four-legged, speechless wild animal.

"Look at that Doberman." Death God Shen Jue pointed to a muscular Doberman leaning against the entrance of a nightclub in the corner of the screen, wearing a studded collar, with an academic appreciation in his tone.

"Broad shoulders, narrow waist, upright posture, evenly spaced rivets, and leather pants cut to perfectly fit the curves of the quadriceps—this is clearly a top-notch Fu Rui, designed for the practice of the 'secondary male path'."

Shen Jue glanced at him with disdain again, silently took two steps to the side, her face clearly saying, "I don't know this guy."

But Shen Jue from the club came over.

His eyes were as bright as those of the Grim Reaper Shen Jue.

"Did you notice?" Shen Jue from the club pointed at the catgirl in the sequined miniskirt on the screen, her tone as if she were discussing the plating of a Michelin-starred dish.

"Her chest hair was trimmed into a heart shape, with neat edges and not a single stray hair sticking out."

"This trimmer's skills are definitely among the best in the steel city."

"Professional!" Death God Shen Jue gave him a high five.

"And look at how she walks; the amplitude of her tail wagging is synchronized with the pace of her high heels."

"This isn't something you're born with; it's something you practice. It's called catwalk control."

"Felines have a natural advantage when it comes to catwalks," Shen Jue from the club said, arms crossed, nodding.

"But I admire the tail control of canines even more. For example, that fox over there, the arc of its big tail swaying is just right between laziness and seduction. Any more would seem cheap, any less would seem aloof."

"What do you think of the panda?" Death God Shen Jue pointed to the almost naked panda on the second floor.

Shen Jue from the club squinted and examined it for a moment before seriously commenting, "The black and white color scheme itself has a sophisticated feel to minimalism, but the placement of the sequins is too cluttered, which weakens the impact of the color contrast."

"However, the tattoo on my stomach is a plus: 'Bionic flesh pad - customization available,' which is both frank and retains a sense of business boundaries. I appreciate this attitude."

The Shen Jue's companions around listened to the two's serious exchange on aesthetics, their expressions shifting from disdain to disbelief, and then from disbelief to a kind of gentle numbness.

But Shen Jue from the club didn't care at all.

In his own gang world, he was already the undisputed king of the underworld.

It was a world without other gangs.

It wasn't because they had transformed or whitewashed their image, but because Shen Jue from the organization had approached every gang in the world one by one, asking them to disband on the spot.

A Sicilian Mafia family that has been in existence for twelve generations is trying to refuse.

The next morning, the family patriarch woke up in his own swimming pool, where the water had been replaced with warm Earl Grey tea.

A brand-new enamel mug floated beside him, with a club member's business card pressed on the bottom. On the back, in neat handwriting, was written a line: "Good brew, see you next time."

Half of the family members had their heads removed and arranged in a pyramid shape.

That family announced an indefinite leave of absence that very day.

Another giant cartel that controls three drug corridors in South America took a hard line and issued a bounty on Shen Jue's gang.

Three days later, the organization's leader, along with tens of thousands of armed drug traffickers hiding in the jungle and their families, were vaporized on the spot by a meteorite falling from the sky.

On the ground, Chinese characters covering tens of kilometers appeared: Shen Jue was here.

And so, one after another, the world's underworld order crumbled like dominoes in the face of Shen Jue's gang.

Bloodshed and terror gripped the world.

The port city in Shen Jue's world became his personal playground.

The night view of Victoria Harbour is under his jurisdiction.

The presidential suite on the top floor of the luxury hotel is reserved for him year-round.

The key to the most expensive yacht in the port was lying in his office drawer, mixed in with a bunch of letters he was too lazy to open.

The letters came from all over the world, some signed by high-ranking officials, some by tycoons, and some even bearing the private seal of heads of state; their contents were incredibly diverse.

Some sent him limited-edition whiskies, some invited him to vacation on a private island, and some included a photo and contact information of a princess.

The power of Shen Jue, a global fear organization.

The word "fear" is not an exaggeration here.

Shen Jue, the leader of the triad, is not a warlord. He does not stage coups or deal in weapons. His "triad" does not even deal in drugs, gambling, or collect protection money.

What he did was unsettlingly simple: he made everyone realize at the same time that the violent order they depended on for survival was as fragile as a damp sheet of rice paper in his presence.

Without any effort to win him over, infiltrate him, or bribe him, he simply walked in, overwhelming all dissenting voices, and then everyone understood.

Fear is followed by appeasement.

An intelligence agency in a European country spent six months producing a 300-page assessment report, the final conclusion of which was just one sentence: "It is recommended to maintain friendly relations and send him things he likes."

Analysts sifted through all the data and found that Shen Jue's public spending records were unusually clean.

No yachts, no sports cars, and no extravagant hobbies that could be defined as "weaknesses".

The only clue was his apparent interest in famous beauties.

Once this door opened, the global diplomatic community was immediately plunged into a silent competition.

Giving gifts has become a way of taking sides; if the gifts aren't good enough, it's seen as falling behind.

The first country to break the deadlock was a certain country in Eastern Europe.

A beautiful Slavic woman from deep in the Carpathian Mountains was sent to the port city. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and cheekbones as sharp as glaciers. She could play the violin and speak Chopin in three languages.

When she appeared at the entrance of the tea restaurant that Shen Jue from the club frequented, the air on the entire street fell silent for two seconds.

Shen Jue, who was eating shrimp dumplings, looked up at her, put down his chopsticks, and asked, "Who sent this?"

"My country," the Slavic beauty replied softly.

Shen Jue from the club nodded and pointed to the chair opposite him, saying, "Sit down. Would you like some shrimp dumplings?"

The Slavic beauty smiled warmly.

The news sparked a global diplomatic frenzy.

The three Nordic countries quickly followed suit.

Sweden sent a beautiful, minimalist architect with silver hair and gray eyes. She wore a linen suit of her own design, and her luggage consisted of only four pieces of clothing and a hand-drip coffee maker.

Her first words were: "I can design a house for you that you'll never be bored."

Shen Jue from the club talked with her about architecture for four hours, from Le Corbusier to Tadao Ando.

Norway devised a plan overnight and sent a female polar explorer. This explorer was not only very capable and forthright, but also had a face that caught the attention of Shen Jue in the organization.

The explorer gifted Shen Jue from the community a polar bear toe bone fossil she had collected in Svalbard.

Shen Jue, a member of the club, weighed the fossil in his palm and talked with the explorer about his adventures all night long.

South Asia and Southeast Asia are taking a more direct approach.

Thailand sent a beautiful female Muay Thai fighter, 1.65 meters tall, who had broken the ribs of three opponents in the ring. Upon seeing Shen Jue from the gang, she put her hands together and said, "I can teach you Muay Thai, and I can also be your bodyguard."

Shen Jue from the club battled this beautiful female boxer for several hours in a secluded ring, exchanging Muay Thai skills.

India has demonstrated both the country’s strengths in diversity and unity and its epic tragedy of inefficiency.

The foreign ministry has been arguing for two months about whether to send a Bollywood actress or a classical Bharata dancer, with caste and cricket stances getting involved.

Ultimately, the Prime Minister made a furious decision in his office to send a beautiful, high-caste female software engineer who had written three AI frameworks in Bangalore.

The first thing she did after arriving in Hong Kong was to take a look at the smart home system in Shen Jue's villa and frowned, saying, "Your system's permission architecture has vulnerabilities."

"I can fix it."

Shen Jue from the club admired for a while how this beauty was completely focused on her work.

He also took the opportunity to test the beauty's willpower while she was working.

Africa's participation is by no means insignificant.

Ethiopia sent a beautiful female long-distance runner who fits the East Asian aesthetic, and she accompanies Shen Jue from the club to run on the mountain trails of the port city every morning.

Despite the fact that the two were not on the same level in terms of physical fitness, Shen Jue from the club still gave the beautiful athlete a thorough workout, leaving her breathless and begging for mercy.

Nigeria sent a beautiful female writer who had won an African literature prize.

Shen Jue from the club spent an afternoon talking with her about African literature, from Achebe to the translation and dissemination of online literature in Africa.

He also helped the female writer practice her Chinese pronunciation.

Although Shen Jue always hissed when correcting the female writer's pronunciation.

The whole world was gripped by a kind of indescribable frenzy.

Later, this "Beauty diplomacy" became so entangled that it became suffocating.

Every woman sent to the port city is like a carefully packaged national business card, carrying the message: We respect you, we fear you, we want to be your friend, and we don't want to upset you.

As a result, Shen Jue from the club lived a very good and carefree life.

I woke up in my villa on the hillside in Hong Kong this morning, and the view of Victoria Harbour was right outside my window.

Breakfast was personally delivered to his room by the head chef of the best tea restaurant, and occasionally a beautiful woman from some country would sit across the table to keep him company.

He eats and chats as he pleases, welcoming all who come and letting those who leave go.

In the afternoon, I strolled through the alleys of the old town, wearing a white shirt, black pants, and cloth shoes. Behind me were three groups of bodyguards of different nationalities, and a drone was being switched every fifteen minutes overhead.

The auntie at the fish ball stall in the alley didn't know who he was, only that this young man always ordered two skewers of fish balls and a serving of shumai, with lots of chili sauce, and would exchange a few pleasantries after eating.

His amusement park only truly comes alive at night.

Sometimes, Shen Jue, a member of the gang, would book the entire racetrack, where dozens of beautiful women from various countries would sit with him in the empty stands, drinking beer and watching the races.

Sometimes, Shen Jue from the gang would pay a bar to provide an unlimited supply of all the drinks for the night, simply because he wanted to enjoy the atmosphere of human beings indulging in crazy pleasure.

At this moment, the king of the underground in the port city was in front of an electronic screen with the Grim Reaper Shen Jue, giving an extremely serious aesthetic critique of a catgirl in the red-light district of the steel city whose chest hair was trimmed into the shape of a heart.

Although in Shen Jue's world of the gang, his villa is always waiting for him to come back for tea, with dozens of carefully selected top-tier human beauties waiting for him.

This outrageously excessive treatment once made Shen Jue of Killing Spire green with envy.

He still only has one tank cannon barrel.

Although Shen Jue of Slay the Spire really likes Miss Hunter and Lord Observer, his relationship with them has not yet reached the level of lovers.

The only hobby of the immortal species to which Miss Hunter belongs is hunting powerful creatures.

Love and romance are things they won't consider in their long lives.

Meanwhile, the blind observer, with her broad-mindedness, was solely focused on recording Shen Jue's actions at the Slaughter Spire, regarding so-called love as an act purely for the purpose of reproduction.

Shen Jue, the leader of the Slaughter Spire, had no way to express his suffering.

"Huh? A new guy?" Shen Jue from Slay the Spire said with surprise in his unique mechanical voice.

The new Shen Jue arrived in the white space.