It was still that same ordinary hotel, and still that heavily covered room. Lawrence sat quietly, tending to his wounds. His handsome face was tinged with a faintly twisted expression.
He'd been careless—far too careless. Because of that, he’d nearly lost his life. Of course, it also had to do with Ian Song’s youth; who’d have thought that such a young teenager was actually an Innate-Rank Master, and that he hadn’t been affected by Corpse Incense at all?
Now, with injuries this severe, he’d need at least a month of rest to recover. For the sake of his own life, there was no way he could personally go after Ian Song again.
"Looks like I’ll have to borrow a knife to kill."
Lawrence muttered to himself, then broke into a sinister smile.
Nangong Family.
Nathan Nangong was furious. The Nangong Family’s only male heir had survived two assassination attempts—one rigged his car, and the second was even bolder, with the killer striking right in the hospital.
If his son’s heart hadn’t been slightly off-center, the Nangong Family’s sole successor would probably already be dead.
But what made him even angrier was that the assassin was still at large. Even after dispatching the Nangong Family’s Innate-Rank Master, they hadn’t managed to catch that damned killer.
Suddenly, his private phone rang.
Very few people knew his private phone number, but what puzzled him was that the call came from an unfamiliar number.
"Mr. Nathan Nangong, I’ve sent an email to your inbox that you might find interesting. I hope you’ll take a look."
The voice on the phone was processed—impossible to tell if it was male or female.
"Who are you?" Nathan Nangong asked in a low voice.
"Click."
The call was cut off, leaving only a dead tone.
A surge of anger flared in Nathan Nangong’s heart. How dare they hang up on him? He wanted to call back and demand answers, but in the end he suppressed his rage and decided to check the so-called email first.
He logged into his inbox and, sure enough, saw an email sent two minutes ago.
He opened the email and read.
By the time he finished reading, his eyes were filled with unmistakable killing intent.
"Someone, come in!"
Nathan Nangong barked coldly.
"Third Master, what are your orders?" A black-clad man entered the room, bowing as he spoke.
"Within one hour, I want to see a student from Saint Night High School named Ian Song. Can you do it?" Nathan Nangong said in a deep voice.
"Yes." The black-clad man replied, though a hint of doubt flashed in his eyes.
"He’s closely connected to Blood Rose. Both attempts on Justin’s life are inseparable from him."
"Understood, sir."
............
Inside the school dormitory.
Ian Song leaned against the simple sofa in the common room, his brows deeply furrowed.
The appearance of a gold-rank assassin made him feel an immense sense of danger. Even though he’d seriously injured his opponent, as long as the man wasn’t dead, both he and his uncle’s family were still at risk.
"What should I do?" Ian Song asked himself.
His uncle’s family of three were all ordinary people—his uncle went to work, Shelly went to school, and his aunt stayed at home.
Which meant he simply couldn’t provide them with personal protection.
For a moment, he once again felt the awkwardness of being powerless and alone.
"If only I had a few loyal experts under me."
Suddenly, an idea struck Ian Song—he thought of the lottery. He’d just upgraded Clairvoyant Vision to second-grade mid-tier, spending two million Fame Points. But today alone, he’d gained about a hundred more, leaving him with roughly 5.3 million Fame Points.
That was enough for another draw.
But the lottery was highly unpredictable—there was no guarantee he’d get a skill or divine ability that could solve his problem.
So he hesitated.
But since he couldn’t think of any other solution, he could only go for the draw.
"Meow-Meow, I want to draw!"
The lottery wheel appeared, and he tapped the big prize button with his hand.
The pointer began spinning rapidly.
It finally stopped on a green segment. Ian Song’s breath tightened—he’d actually landed on green.
At that moment, two golden characters—“Puppet Mastery”—shone on the green square. The next instant, the words transformed into golden light and shot into Ian Song’s brow.
"It’s actually a third-grade divine ability!"
Ian Song nearly jumped for joy. Third-grade divine abilities were incredibly rare—just upgrading Clairvoyant Vision to third-grade would cost fifty million Fame Points. And now, he’d drawn a third-grade divine ability!
But at that moment, a stabbing pain shot through his mind.
He knew it was the divine ability fusing.
Gritting his teeth, he endured for several minutes until a wave of clarity swept through his mind—he now understood exactly what Puppet Mastery was.
Puppet Mastery: Third-grade divine ability. Once activated, it allows the user to control any living being whose spiritual power does not exceed the host’s by more than double. Any creature controlled by Puppet Mastery becomes the host’s slave for life, until death.
Usage: Once per day.
Once he understood how Puppet Mastery worked, Ian Song opened his eyes, his face full of excitement. Immediately, he thought of Lawrence, the gold-rank assassin. If he could turn Lawrence into his puppet, he’d gain a powerful subordinate.
The thought made him want to go track down Lawrence right away.
Then he thought of Leon Lee, another Innate Master. Because of the Zhao family, there was a rift between them. If he could turn Leon Lee into his puppet, not only would he gain an Innate Master as a subordinate, but he could also leverage the influence of the Lee Family.
With that in mind, he decided to visit the National Martial League branch tomorrow. If Leon Lee stopped bothering him, fine; but if he made trouble, Ian would use Puppet Mastery to make him a slave.
Then he could have Leon Lee secretly assign people to protect his uncle and aunt.
With a plan in mind, Ian Song felt much less anxious. He returned to his computer, ready to study Eastern Medicine.
Just as he stood up, he heard faint footsteps outside the door. Judging by the sound, none of them were ordinary people. Instantly, his expression hardened and he became alert.
Boom!
The dormitory door was violently kicked open, and a group of black-clad men streamed in.
The leader was a small, thin middle-aged man. His appearance was ordinary, but his eyes were unusually bright.
"Are you Ian Song?" the leader asked.
"I am. And who are you?" Ian Song retorted, sensing these men were up to no good.
"Grab him and take him away!"
With a wave of the leader’s hand, two black-clad men lunged forward, each reaching out to seize Ian Song’s shoulders.
"Hmph!"
Since they’d made the first move, Ian Song wasn’t about to hold back. He snorted coldly, his fists shooting out like twin dragons from the sea.
Bang! Bang!
The two attackers were both late-stage Postnatal martial artists, but to Ian Song they were hardly different from ordinary people. With a punch each, both men were sent flying, injured.
The leader’s eyes narrowed in surprise, then he waved his hand again: "All together."
Immediately, the eight men behind him sprang forward, fanning out to surround and attack Ian Song.