After the two delegations rendezvoused, they planned to halt outside the city for a single day to rest and regroup before setting off for home.
With so many people, the reserved temporary hotel was already filled to capacity.
Some had to pitch tents out in the open or simply stay on watch through the night. Most of the security personnel were martial practitioners after all, aided by medicines and implants, so a single night hardly affected them.
Most of the delegation's upper-level members had rooms of their own.
Chen Chuan, meanwhile, had arranged his quarters aboard an airship. He led Gao Ming and the representatives from the Martial Artists Council up the mooring tower and into the airship's cabin lounge.
Once they were seated, the two men from the International Martial Artists Council produced their credentials and laid them on the table.
A mustachioed, middle-aged man among them said, "Mr. Chen, here is proof of our identity. You may verify it against the database in Center City using your cochlear worm or boundary credential. You'll find our names on the International Martial Artists Council's official roster."
The International Martial Artists Council was not a unified organization. Rather, it was an international body formed by resident representatives dispatched from each nation's martial artists council to jointly negotiate, resolve, and manage matters concerning martial artists crossing one another's borders.
At times, they also accepted commissions from other nations' councils to provide certain services or exercise appropriate oversight over martial artists within their borders.
Handling proxy binding agreements was not unheard of, though it remained rare. Individual nations almost always kept binding agreements over their own martial artists firmly in their own hands rather than casually delegating them out.
That was unless a martial artist's threat level had grown so high that fears arose over security risks during periods without an active agreement, in which case the loophole had to be plugged without delay.
"As we mentioned earlier, we have come on Great Shun's commission," the mustachioed man continued. "While inside the Federation, your security agreement for this year has yet to be executed, so they entrusted us to handle it here.
"There is also one more matter—"
The mustachioed man's expression grew solemn, his tone carrying more weight.
"Mr. Chen, your international impact assessment score is exceptionally high right now. Your true combat strength has far exceeded the standard of an ordinary Secret Palace martial artist, approaching the threshold of a Throne martial artist.
"Out of security concerns, many nations have submitted appeals and proposals to the International Martial Artists Council. After learning of this and conducting in-depth deliberations, the Great Shun government and the Great Shun Martial Artists Council decided that, to uphold international order and safeguard the security of all nations, they hope you will sign this temporary supplemental agreement before returning home."
The other man pulled a stack of documents from a briefcase. "The specific clauses are here for your perusal. Ah, and if you have any doubts, you may verify the authenticity of this commission via transoceanic telegram at any time.
"Should you agree, all that is required is your signature. Given that your departure is imminent, we can arrange for ritual personnel to come here and officially execute the agreement with you today so as not to delay your itinerary."
The mustachioed man added, "In truth, we received this commission half a month ago, but there were matters to coordinate. Furthermore, we considered that you were in the middle of a mission and it would be inconvenient. Now that your mission is complete, there should be no further obstacles. What do you think?"
Chen Chuan gave no answer. Instead, he reached out, took the documents, and looked them over.
The paperwork appeared thoroughly formal, stamped by authorities such as the National Security Committee and the National Martial Artists Council. The contents adhered strictly to standard protocol, supplemented at the end by directives from department superiors instructing him, in his capacity as Section Chief of the Jibei Dao Security Defense Office, to cooperate in executing the agreement.
Yet as he read through certain sections, his eyebrows twitched. He passed the papers to Gao Ming. Gao Ming glanced over them, pushed up his glasses, and said, "Pardon me, but I need to go confirm this. Please wait a moment, gentlemen."
"Of course," the mustachioed man said, before turning to Chen Chuan. "That is entirely your right, Mr. Chen."
Gao Ming walked out with the documents in hand.
The mustachioed man spoke up again. "Section Chief Chen, my personal suggestion is that before signing, you might take the initiative to submit an application yourself."
"Oh?" Chen Chuan said. "Is there a particular reason for that?"
"Because the assessment mechanism for elevating a security agreement's tier follows its own criteria," the mustachioed man said. "We cannot disclose the specifics, but what we can tell you is that the council generally looks very favorably upon members who proactively step forward to sign."
The other man chimed in, "Indeed. If the application comes from you directly, it will work in your personal favor."
Chen Chuan offered a faint smile. "Then I must thank you both for letting me know."
"You are too polite, Section Chief Chen."
The mustachioed man explained, "Though we serve the International Martial Artists Council, we are also of East Continent descent. When a figure like you emerges from the East Continent, we naturally hope your path ahead will be a long and steady one."
The three of them chatted idly for about half an hour until Gao Ming stepped back in. Laying the documents before Chen Chuan, he said, "The paperwork is genuine. It has been confirmed via transoceanic telegram that the domestic Martial Artists Council did indeed commission this."
The two council representatives exchanged a glance, and the mustachioed man turned to Chen Chuan. "Well, Mr. Chen, have you made up your mind? Of course, if you find submitting an application troublesome, we can proceed straight to signing the agreement."
Chen Chuan looked at them with a smile. "My apologies, but we have no intention of signing this agreement."
The two men froze, seemingly bewildered as to why his earlier pleasant demeanor had suddenly turned into an outright refusal.
Frowning, the mustachioed man asked, "Mr. Chen, is there still something you have doubts about?"
"If this were an official document, I would be willing to sign it," Chen Chuan replied. "But this document is not."
He fixed his eyes on them. "Perhaps you truly do represent the International Martial Artists Council, but the commission from within Great Shun has problems—and in your hearts, you must know that very well."
The mustachioed man's voice dropped. "Mr. Chen, are you looking for excuses? If you believe there is an issue, raise it directly. There is no need for such clumsy pretexts. And you should think this through carefully—you are refusing a security agreement from the International Martial Artists Council. Have you considered the consequences?"
The other man added, "Mr. Chen, please do not joke. This is a very serious matter."
Chen Chuan had no intention of wasting words with them. He tapped his boundary credential, and several security guards immediately marched in, led by Wu Han.
"Take these two into custody for now," Chen Chuan commanded. "I suspect them of attempting to use the name of the Martial Artists Council to manipulate senior delegation officials, endangering national security, and attempting to steal state secrets."
The two men's faces went pale. The second man leapt to his feet, barking, "Section Chief Chen, you will be held accountable for this! Can you bear the consequences?!"
Without hesitation, Wu Han drove a ruthless fist into the man's stomach. The man doubled over with a strangled shriek. Startled by the sight, the mustachioed man hurriedly raised both hands, signaling complete cooperation.
Under the intimidating presence of the security personnel outside, their escort guards dared not resist, obediently handing over their weapons and belongings.
Before long, the whole group was marched away and locked inside the holding cells in the airship's lower deck.
"Cousin, how do you plan to handle them?" Gao Ming asked.
"When we depart tomorrow, we take them back with us," Chen Chuan said. "I want to see who is pushing this from behind the scenes."
Gao Ming pushed up his glasses. "Whoever it is must hold considerable sway."
Chen Chuan gave an acknowledging grunt. On the surface, the paperwork carried by those two seemed entirely in order—at least in terms of content, it appeared thoroughly formal. Yet there was a single glaring flaw: from beginning to end, the document issued under the National Security Committee's name addressed him solely as Section Chief of the Jibei Dao Security Defense Office.
In truth, he had been appointed a commissioner of the National Security Committee long ago. The appointment simply had not been announced publicly, so very few knew of it.
For the document to omit that title was proof enough that this had not been genuinely sanctioned by the higher-ups—or at the very least, it had not followed standard formal protocol. Instead, someone within the Martial Artists Council or the Security Committee had pushed it through covertly.
Naturally, even if the procedure was irregular, once signed, the agreement would still be legally binding. When that happened, he would simply have to swallow the loss; even regretting it afterward would accomplish nothing.
Those two had even dropped hints urging him to submit the application himself. On the surface, it sounded as if they were doing him a favor, but in reality, they were trying to seal off the only remaining loophole. If he filed the application on his own initiative, the representatives and whoever backed them would be completely cleared of any liability.
Whoever was behind this clearly wanted to shackle him as soon as possible, unwilling to let him pose a threat to certain people or certain interests.
As for who exactly that was, he could not say for sure just yet. It might not be a single individual; it could easily be an entire faction.
There was no need to worry about it right now. The people were in custody anyway, and the matter could be sorted out after they returned. Of course, if someone grew impatient and exposed themselves, all the better.
Even if genuine officials authorized to execute the agreement had arrived today, he would not have signed immediately either. He would have found a way to stall.
His primary objective right now was to seek out opponents and find an opportunity to break through his cultivation boundary. If he were bound by an agreement, his hands would be completely tied.
Moreover, once he made the breakthrough into the Cave Mystery View, although he would still have to sign an agreement, from what he knew, it would be an entirely different matter. It would be impossible to constrain him with earlier terms, allowing him to shift from defense to offense.
Meanwhile, in a certain room back at the hotel quarters, Chu Zhixian was on the telephone with a West Coast congressman. The two spoke for a long time. After hanging up, Chu Zhixian lifted his water glass and had barely taken a sip when a knock came at the door.
He set the glass down, straightened his collar, and went to open it. Seeing his aide standing outside with an awkward expression, he gestured for the man to enter, walked back over, sat on the sofa, and asked, "What is it?"
"Sir," the aide said, "the two council members who went to see Section Chief Chen have just been arrested by him."
"Arrested?"
A jolt went through Chu Zhixian, and his brow furrowed. "What happened?"
Chapter 1287