The Grand Marshal's Privacy

"A big deal?" Fu Qingyang stared at the Void demigod for a moment, then remarked blandly, "You're here to ask for reinforcements, aren't you?" Mr. President touched the mask on his face and said in surprise, "Can a Scout's Insight see through a mask now?" Fu Qingyang replied coldly, "I'm using my brain!" Mr. President shrugged. "I need the Grand Marshal's power. The scene of her piercing through the Twisted Realm with a single sword strike last time is still vivid in my mind. There has never been such a breathtaking sword light in this world." Fu Qingyang moved a finger. An armored iron soldier standing in the corner stepped toward the liquor cabinet with clanking strides. It poured a glass of wine for its master, respectfully offered it, and then returned to the corner. Throughout the process, Fu Qingyang's fingers were twitching slightly, like a puppeteer performing delicate manipulations. "Practicing puppetry even in daily life? How diligent. But what a Puppeteer needs isn't delicate micro-operations; it's 'the more, the better, like Han Xin counting troops.' In this regard, you should learn more from the First Elder of the Sword Pavilion. He can command a hundred thousand puppets in a single breath," Mr. President critiqued. "To me, the number of puppets is completely meaningless," Fu Qingyang said calmly. "Your talent isn't quite up to par, so even if it were meaningful, you couldn't control them anyway," Mr. President chuckled. Fu Qingyang's face chilled. "Is there anything else?!" The President didn't mind his annoyance in the least. Speaking in the instructive tone of an elder advising a junior, he said: "After advancing to Dominator, your Skill Near Dao has hit a bottleneck—or rather, it's not quite as effective anymore. After all, a dragonslaying technique at the Saint stage isn't sufficient at the Dominator stage, and by the time you reach the demigod realm, it becomes even more ordinary. So you must be quite anxious. Even with the cloak Yuanshi gave you, at most you're stronger than Dominators of the same level; it's very difficult for you to fight above your grade. "In contrast, Yuanshi's potential is far greater than yours. His talent for clearing trials is superior to yours, his level progression is steady, and he possesses the Demon Lord's relics. Even at the Dominator stage, he'll still be a Heavenly Venerable of Items. "Recently, he's had many encounters abroad, and his foundation has grown increasingly profound. Once he clears the killing trial and becomes a Day Wanderer specializing in solar power, he'll be nearly on equal footing with you. Well, you're currently level eight, so you're still slightly stronger than him, but your advantage is no longer obvious." Fu Qingyang's composure didn't crumble under these words. As a Scout, he possessed an ironclad heart for the Dao, but the sense of urgency was indeed growing stronger. Mr. President spoke expansively: "Although you are known as the Money Prince and boast vast wealth and an enormous stockpile of items, you rarely use them, viewing them only as secondary aids. That's because your talent is modest, and a dizzying array of items would only interfere with your fighting spirit. Elder Fu, my advice to you is to walk one path to the very end. "Take Skill Near Dao as your foundation, use the cloak as your aid, and push 'slashing' to the absolute limit." The repeated mentions of "modest talent" made Fu Qingyang's mouth twitch. After pondering for several seconds, he said, "That is the purpose of my practicing puppetry." "No, no, no." Mr. President wagged a finger. "Right now, you are merely increasing the quantity of your Skill Near Dao. One puppet represents one sword strike; a hundred puppets are merely a hundred strikes. In the eyes of opponents at the same level, that's terrifying. But before a truly powerful figure, one sword strike or a hundred sword strikes are the same—the threat does not increase." Fu Qingyang reflected for a moment and understood his meaning. "You mean I should combine a hundred swords into one?" "Exactly! That, in my opinion, is the direction in which Skill Near Dao should develop. Of course, all roads lead to Rome. If you have a better idea, by all means give it a try." Mr. President swirled the ice cubes in his glass. Fu Qingyang nodded. Leaving the topic behind, he asked, "Has the situation in New York County escalated to the point where demigods must take the field?" Mr. President shook his head. "It's still at the stage of Dominators testing one another. However, I plan to make a big move and give the evil faction a surprise." "The Grand Marshal loves comfort and detests labor. She's lazy to the bone and hates long-distance travel most of all. She probably won't go." Fu Qingyang pointed out a clearer path for him: "I suggest you look for the Sect Master of the Red Fire Sect. Brawling and fighting are his absolute favorites." Fire spirit energy was the most domineering among all elements—explosive, incendiary, and undeniably the foremost in destructive power. "I don't trust him." Mr. President's tone turned solemn. "I don't trust a single one of the older generation of demigods. Your sister is clean because she's a newly ascended demigod." "What do you mean?" Fu Qingyang was taken aback. "Do you know how the old Grand Marshal died?" Mr. President's gaze grew dark and deep. "He died in the struggle for the Compass of Light. Don't tell me there's more to it than meets the eye." Fu Qingyang's brow furrowed little by little. "He indeed died in that struggle. But no one has ever wondered why, back during the fight for the Compass of Light, the old Grand Marshal didn't join forces with the demigods of the Red Fire Sect, Baihui, the Water God Palace, and the Central Court," Mr. President countered. Fu Qingyang froze. Just as he was about to press for details, the President merely shrugged. "An old story from years past—no need to dwell on it. I want to see the Grand Marshal." Suppressing the doubts in his heart, Fu Qingyang said, "The Grand Marshal is in the Spirit Realm. Trial number: 7606." Mr. President downed the strong liquor in his glass, raised his hand with flair, and snapped his fingers with a crisp pop, vanishing from the study. *** Spirit Realm Number: 7606—The Grand Marshal's Study! After a brief journey through the void, Mr. President quickly locked onto the trial's coordinates through a Void demigod's spatial senses. In the next second, he beheld a pure white world. The sky and the earth shared the same color, boundless and vast. Within this pristine expanse stood towering bookshelves packed with novels and comics—exclusively light entertainment, untainted by even a speck of academic knowledge. In front of the bookshelves stood a large desk, also piled high with manga and novels ranging from vintage wuxia to modern xianxia, and from overbearing CEOs to female revenge stories. Everything imaginable was there. There was even the academically challenged Ah Bing, as well as the gentle, cultured Madam Bai. In short, there wasn't a single serious book in sight, while disreputable ones were everywhere. Beside the pulp fiction were cups of milk tea, soft drinks, chocolate, potato chips, nuts, and other snacks. A young woman with a lush mane of white hair lay ungracefully on a high-backed chair, her booted legs crossed and propped up on the desk. A twenty-yuan cup of milk tea was balanced on her chest; she sipped from the straw while engrossed in a comic book. Suddenly, her senses tingled, and she raised her eyes to look ahead. Before the desk, the figure of a man in a burgundy suit slowly materialized. The two stared at each other in silence, speechless for a time. "Did I come at a bad time?" Mr. President tested the waters. Without a word, the woman set aside her milk tea and comic book, and slowly drew a massive greatsword! *** Windy City, headquarters of the Association of God of Beauty. In the imaginations of low-tier Spirit Realm walkers, the headquarters of the Association of God of Beauty was like a paradise of hedonism and decadence, where stunning Desire-class walkers held parties daily in palace-like residences. There would be an endless supply of fine wine and exquisite delicacies, while big shots frequently came and went from the headquarters—and just as frequently in and out of the lovely bodies of various Desire walkers. In reality, the headquarters of the Association of God of Beauty was located in the Huancheng Building in Windy City's CBD. As one of the tallest structures in Windy City, the skyscraper was an asset of the Association. The investment firms, securities companies, wellness clubs, supermarkets, restaurants, and banks operating in this tower were all majority-owned by the Association of God of Beauty. These companies never lacked employees and executives who were both exceptionally capable and breathtakingly gorgeous. Every day, they drove sports cars to work, wore luxury perfumes, and carried designer bags worth tens of thousands of federal dollars. When work ended, prominent figures, politicians, and business magnates from Windy City were always waiting to take them out to dinner. In the office of the CEO of Global Investment Corporation, Diana wore refined, elegant gold-rimmed glasses for women, her gleaming golden hair styled in an updo. Dressed in a light gray suit, she had her head down reviewing an investment report. Her skin was as fair as milk, and her features were sculpted to perfection. The fullness and curves of her lips, the bridge of her nose, the size of her eyes, the density of her eyelashes... every single detail was flawlessly exquisite. "Why are you here?" She looked up, her gaze warm and gentle as she glanced toward the sofa in the reception area. In the next instant, Diana's gentle gaze shifted to astonishment. "What happened? Who beat you up? Is there anyone in this world who could actually catch you?" The man in the burgundy suit lay disheveled on the sofa. His tailored suit was tattered and torn, half of his mask was smashed to pieces, and a bruised cheek was exposed. "Don't worry about the details." The man waved a hand. "I caught a glimpse of someone's privacy, so getting beaten up is only natural. Where is your president? I need to see her." The president of the Association of God of Beauty came and went like a phantom, with no fixed residence. As the sole demigod of the Desire class, her charm had become walking pheromones. Men and women, humans and animals alike, would become helplessly infatuated with her allure. Consequently, she rarely appeared in public view. Even the upper echelons of the Association of God of Beauty seldom saw her, though they possessed ways to contact her. Diana asked solemnly, "Is an operation underway?" Mr. President nodded. "I want to end the faction war in New York County early. From the Extraordinary stage to the Saint stage, we've continually been victorious. If we can wipe out the evil faction's Dominators in New York County in one fell swoop, they should go underground for a time and switch to plotting in the shadows. While hidden arrows are difficult to defend against, we need time." He sighed, "Yuanshi still needs time." Diana fell silent for a few seconds, then smiled bitterly. "Yes, our Lord of the Sun is still just a cub." *** New York County. Inside a three-story building in Kings County, an area with a dense immigrant population and high crime rates. Gang members, predominantly Black, lay strewn across the corridor and the courtyard. They bore no wounds on their bodies, but their hearts had already ceased beating. In a room on the second floor, a burly Black man was backed into a corner, staring in terror at the cold young man before him. "Sect Master Tongtian, wh-what do you want..." The Black man was a mid-level backbone of the Hunter Guild, a Level 5 Saint of the Siren class. He recognized this new favorite of the vice president—a Dream Master hailing from the Second District. "I hear you've already cleared this month's Spirit Realm trial?" Sect Master Tongtian asked coldly. "Y-Yes..." the Black man answered somewhat blankly, then quavered, "What on earth do you want? Even though you're the vice president's..." Before he could finish, Zhang Yuanqing reached out and covered the man's face with his palm. The Black man's voice was cut off instantly. His expression twisted in agony, and he let out an ear-piercing scream. Black threads extended from Zhang Yuanqing's fingertips, burrowing into the man's forehead like worms. Shortly after, the black threads dragged out a deep blue character card engraved with storms and ocean waves. A thick black liquid swiftly enveloped the card, digesting it completely. Having lost his character card, the Black man slumped against the wall and collapsed, returning to the Spirit Realm. *This month's trial can be written off now. Next, I just need to wait for the killing trial a month from now...* Zhang Yuanqing thought in high spirits. November had already arrived, and mid-month was only a few days away. The killing trials took place in the middle of the year and at the middle of year's end—just a month away. Originally, he had wanted to seize a Level 6 Punishment Knight character card to test his luck and see if he could find clues about the Thunder God Set components. However, considering his heavy workload lately, and given that a Level 6 Saint trial took anywhere from a few days to a week or even longer, he had no time to waste inside a trial. He wouldn't gain any experience points in the trial anyway, at most collecting items and materials. With so many tasks in the real world, entering a trial was unnecessary. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing's phone chimed. He fished it out of his pocket and checked the message. It was a text from Donna, inviting him for tea at the Association of God of Beauty's branch tomorrow at three in the afternoon. *Three in the afternoon, huh? Not quite the time for rolling in the sheets. Or does she want to chat and flirt first before moving to the bed at night?* After pondering briefly, Zhang Yuanqing sent a text to the President: "Donna invited me for tea tomorrow at three in the afternoon." Then, he forwarded the same message to Catherine. A few minutes later, he received replies from both Catherine and the President. [Mr. President: Tomorrow's operation will have six Dominators participating. I'll take you to meet them tonight at nine.] [Catherine: Well done.]