As the door clicked softly shut and Ji Jue's footsteps receded into the distance, the assistant pouring the drinks broke the silence of the room. Glancing toward the door, he murmured, "Young people sure are sharp and aggressive. Looks like Haizhou really intends to stick its hands into the Mid-Continent."
"The Mid-Continent isn't like other places. That little fox Lyu Yingyue can't possibly be unaware of that. If you ask me, nine times out of ten, she's treating him as an expendable pawn."
Fan Yun paused, then chuckled. "And this kid doesn't strike me as someone who sits still, either. Whether he grasps his own predicament or not, he probably came to the Mid-Continent intending to stir up trouble."
Over the years, Fan Yun had seen military-industrial representatives come one after another and die one after another, departing in all sorts of colorful, spectacular ways. He had seen far too much of it.
From the first glance at Ji Jue, he hadn't pegged him as some well-behaved kid who would learn his place after a few sharp words.
People like him looked modest and polite on the surface, but underneath, they harbored an arrogance that looked down on everyone. Even while bowing their heads and listening to others speak, their minds were occupied entirely with their own schemes and agendas.
The stench of an ambitious schemer practically radiated off him.
In the Mid-Continent, people like that usually died the fastest, stirred the pot the hardest, and—by the same token—made the biggest waves!
"Could he just be a casual move on Warden Lyu's board?" the assistant asked out of curiosity.
"Whether he is or isn't doesn't matter. It has nothing to do with me either way."
Fan Yun raised his double scotch, tilted his head back, and downed it in one gulp. "If he were truly sensible, he'd stay cooped up in the base like a good boy, make the rounds, bide his time until his rotation was up, and then leave. If he did that, he'd find nothing but good people across the Mid-Continent.
"Instead, he rolled in with full momentum and didn't even bother pretending. How could anyone else tolerate him?
"Lyu Yingyue dared to meddle in the Military Department's factional struggle and sided with the Di family, so the Li family won't tolerate him. Haichao wants to expand—and every bite they take is a bite out of someone else's mouth, so his competitors won't tolerate him either.
"Even before considering that, do you think the local distributors whose markets Ji Jue chewed into, or those warlords and arms traffickers, will put up with him?
"He hasn't even taken his first real step, and the entire world is already his enemy. If that kid really gets things rolling, there's no telling how massive a storm he'll whip up."
Fan Yun narrowed his eyes and sighed softly. "If he really takes it too far, I won't be able to shelter him here either."
A knock sounded on the door once more.
At that, Fan Yun raised his glass again.
***
Everyone had worn smiles before he stepped into that room, but once he emerged, their expressions seemed to have shifted. A hint of respect, a touch of wariness, or perhaps a trace of malice had crept into their eyes.
Ji Jue's ability to secure an audience with Fan Yun so quickly was, in a sense, a testament to his own clout. After all, if anyone wanted to see the general, countless people waited in line for months without even catching a glimpse of his dust.
Without question, this was also a statement and a stance from the garrison base—even a form of authorization.
Having met Fan Yun without being thrown out of the Mid-Continent, and now sauntering around here with a drink in hand, meant Ji Jue had obtained a kind of invisible "visa" permitting him to conduct certain business operations in the region.
He had truly secured a ticket into the Mid-Continent's game.
Smiling broadly, Shaban reappeared, offering warm greetings and a friendly welcome in search of a new client, while subtly probing about what had transpired during the meeting.
In a public setting like this, it was just like a straight man in a crosstalk routine deliberately feeding him a cue.
Ji Jue's face lit up with delight, yet he maintained a thinly veiled show of restraint, projecting a smugness that everyone could see through as he smiled faintly. "It was nothing, really. Just an elder offering guidance and advice to a junior.
"He was worried I wouldn't be able to take good care of myself alone, so he invited me to drop by the base more often for meals. Ah, he's taking such good care of me. It warms my heart—a debt of gratitude I can never repay!"
For a moment, Shaban's expression grew exceedingly colorful, practically written with awe.
*Damn, kid, you sure know how to talk out of your ass!*
Still, the banquet hadn't ended yet, and the general's private lounge was right next door. Would Ji Jue dare to spout outright nonsense? Besides, wasn't what he said technically true? Hadn't the general offered guidance and care? Hadn't he invited him to the base for a meal?
*In any case, that's what he said to me. How you choose to interpret it is your own business.*
*Milking it? Damn right I'm milking it!*
*Milk it first, worry later!*
"To be held in such high regard by the general—a limitless future, truly limitless!" Shaban patted Ji Jue's palm, congratulating him with utter sincerity.
Whether there was any truth to it didn't matter to him at all. One hand washed the other, so what was the harm in tossing out a few compliments?
The two of them smoothly traded banter like a seasoned comedy duo.
Amid the laughter and cheerful chatter, however, the hostility mounting beneath those smiling faces pricked like needles, some no longer even bothering to hide it.
Ji Jue glanced back, seemingly by accident, toward a burly man standing among another cluster of guests.
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
The man looked like an Imperial, yet he sported a Mid-Continent-style beard.
His expression was cold and detached as he scrutinized Ji Jue. One of his eyes was blind, replaced by a bionic prosthetic that cast a cold, metallic reflection under the lights.
A horrific scar cut vertically across the socket, running above and below it.
With an impassive face, he raised his glass and drained it in a single gulp, as though offering a toast.
After casting one last look at Ji Jue, he indifferently averted his gaze and turned to walk away.
Instantly intrigued, Ji Jue asked, "Who's that?"
"Hm? You don't know?"
Shaban seemed taken aback as well. He looked at Ji Jue, and upon confirming that his confusion was genuine, he couldn't help shaking his head. "Mr. Ji, isn't your level of vigilance a bit on the low side?"
Ji Jue grew all the more curious. "Please enlighten me."
"Freeloading already? I have to say, your reputation in the Wild Gathering isn't exactly sterling. Ah, whatever. Since we hit it off so well, consider this intel a gift from me."
Shaban chuckled. "That Mr. Mudaheka is quite a prominent figure around here. He's a broker with extensive connections, backgrounds, and channels, specializing in bringing various parties together. He wields substantial influence, and he also acts as the local agent for several corporate conglomerates from the Empire."
"Does he have a grudge against me?"
Ji Jue was puzzled. After all, he had never set foot in the Empire in his life, and he barely knew anyone from there. Even if there were bad blood, it would have been within the Association; it shouldn't have spilled out into the broader world, should it?
"..." Shaban's expression turned exceedingly strange. "Did you see his blind eye?"
"Yeah."
"Back when he was serving in the Imperial military, Warden Lyu stabbed it out. He suffered a crushing defeat, barely escaping with his life. Bound by that disgrace, he was expelled from the military and hit rock bottom. So, what do you think?"
"Uh, well..."
Ji Jue was dumbfounded. He was minding his own business, and out of nowhere, Warden Lyu's aggro had landed squarely on his head!
Talk about catching a stray bullet!
"On top of that, his primary business right now is selling large batches of secondhand Imperial ordnance. From pistols, landmines, and ammunition to exoskeletons and outdated fighter jets, there isn't anything he doesn't dare sell."
Shaban rubbed his chin, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Care to guess where his primary market is?"
"..."
Ji Jue fell silent. In his utter speechlessness, he couldn't help letting out a wry chuckle.
Right, no need to say another word.
Where else could it possibly be...
It could only be the place where Haian Industries exported the most goods in the Mid-Continent—the Red Nation!
From the old score settled by Warden Lyu to the grudge over lost profits caused by Ji Jue, this was an irreconcilable feud in every sense of the word!
Previously, when Ji Jue was stirring up trouble back in the Federation, Mudaheka's arm hadn't been long enough to reach him. But now Ji Jue had waltzed right up to his doorstep... Forget Mudaheka—if Ji Jue were in his shoes, he wouldn't let it slide either.
If he backed down now, who would ever take him seriously again?
"Care to hire a bodyguard? The Wild Gathering offers security services, you know," Shaban said with a grin. "Seeing as you're so boldly aggressive, Mr. Ji, it'd be out of character if Mudaheka didn't make a move. After all, that man is notorious for using any means necessary—a regular mad dog."
"That sounds terrifying!"
Ji Jue's face fell in dramatic horror as he grabbed Shaban's arm. "Brother Shaban, we hit it off like old friends from the start. You can't just stand by and watch! About those security services of yours, could you send over eighty, ninety, maybe a hundred guards for a trial run of ten days or two weeks? If they do a good job, I'll definitely place a massive order!"
*Are you barking mad?*
Shaban felt an itch in his ears, completely incredulous.
No, seriously, were you actually this addicted to freeloading? Dining and dashing even after coming all the way to the Mid-Continent!
He turned his head and gave Ji Jue a long, solemn look, trying to see what kind of talent had shown up to mooch off the Wild Gathering.
*Kid, you really take the cake!*
"Business is business, even between brothers. Besides, I'm not the sole shot-caller in the Wild Gathering. If you're unwilling to spend a dime, little brother, there's nothing your big brother can do to help."
He sighed with melancholic regret, yet with absolute resolve, slipped his arm free from Ji Jue's grasp.
His skin seemed slick with oil; Ji Jue couldn't hold on at all.
*Couldn't get it for free. What a shame.*
*He wouldn't even let me have a trial run. What if I actually bought it?*
Unfortunately, Shaban had already seen through Ji Jue's stingy nature and refused to let himself be taken advantage of any further.
Missing out on this deal meant moving on to the next one, so Shaban felt no remorse and headed off to scout for other clients.
For the remainder of the reception, Ji Jue refrained from going around looking for trouble.
Having made his stance clear, he leaned leisurely against the railing on the top-floor terrace, swirling the champagne in his glass.
Looking out over the night, his gaze was drawn to a light flaring in the distance.
Even as midnight approached, the city center remained brightly illuminated, dazzling ribbons of neon blazing with color. Out beyond the urban core, in the suburban periphery, only a few scattered, dim twinkles broke the dark.
Yet deeper within the shadows, on ground that should have been swallowed in pitch-black gloom, a brilliant burst of color surged upward, steadily spreading until it painted the sky in a shimmering wash of dancing light.
It was fire.
A fire in the slums, spreading between the shanties.
It expanded steadily.
Yet amidst the neon glow and drunken revelry of downtown, no one paid it any mind, as if long since accustomed to such sights.
Only Ji Jue, a newcomer who had just arrived, couldn't help but be captivated, watching it in silence until he momentarily lost himself in thought.
"A fire broke out in the nomad settlement in the southern district."
A raspy voice rose from behind him, thick with phlegm.
Under the dim lighting, an emaciated old man clad in a gray robe sat in a wheelchair, his face crisscrossed with deep wrinkles, his dried-up body withered. Below his torso, both legs had been severed clean off at the hip.
His expression could hardly be called warm; rather, it carried a habitual coldness and detachment.
Yet the badge on his chest was unmistakably familiar.
Having finally encountered a reliable acquaintance, Ji Jue relaxed instantly.
The Church of Chongguang!
Chapter 569