Before dialing the number, Shawn Xiao was wracked with internal conflict, hesitating for an unknown length of time. But when he finally heard Andrew Han's voice, he fell silent.
Shawn Xiao hadn’t expected this.
Even Quinn Qing beside him showed a flash of astonishment in his eyes. Through the receiver, Andrew’s unwavering, resolute tone moved them both.
The undisputed number one of the younger generation.
He represents not only the cutting edge of martial power, but also the courage to lead his generation.
......
A moment later.
Inside the Martial Arts Alliance.
Shawn Xiao wiped the sweat from his forehead and gave a wry laugh, “I haven’t sweated in years. Today, faced with such a difficult decision, I hesitated so much I broke out in a sweat—probably a rarity in history.”
He is a titled third-step Martial Lord, whose flesh and blood have begun to take on energy-like qualities, fusing with the powers of heaven and earth. With a mere gesture, he can alter the local weather.
Sweating was truly rare.
Even when fighting Demons and Specters, at most he would bleed, not sweat.
"Heh." Quinn Qing shrugged. "If you have time to get sentimental, you’d be better off deploying the Titled Sequence right away. Since Andrew Han has formally requested to act, we must ensure his safety at all costs."
"You’re right."
Shawn Xiao nodded, but a trace of indescribable excitement flashed in his eyes. It was longing—and trust.
He had spoken in confidence with Andrew Han and understood him better than anyone. The Martial Arts World might be thrown into an uproar, but Shawn Xiao knew—there was no one more suited to lead the Titled Sequence than Andrew Han!
......
Riverford City, inside a bedroom.
Creak.
Andrew Han gently opened the bedroom door, dressed in a brand-new light blue T-shirt. His black-and-white eyes shone with steely resolve.
He gently closed the bedroom door and stood in the living room.
Late June sunlight poured in, hot and stifling; the air was heavy, the clock’s hands ticked steadily, and outside the window came bursts of laughter, birdsong, and cicadas—peaceful as a tranquil river and mountain.
In a daze, Andrew Han seemed to hear the clash of gongs and war drums.
His heart surged, awakening the lofty ambition to ascend the ninefold clouds.
"Ghost Kingdom."
"Not an inch of Sinoveran soil will be ceded, and Sinoveran warriors must not be slain. If you wish to trample Sinovera, you will pay in blood!" Andrew’s eyes flashed with resolve, no longer lingering on the warmth of home as he turned and walked out the security door.
His father, Han Wenzhi, was busy.
His mother, Chen Shu, and Lucy were strolling around the residential compound.
"But..."
"This mission is far-reaching. The Ghost Kingdom has dispatched blood-soaked Great-Class Specters, and at the same time, sent advanced fighter jets representing the cutting edge of modern weaponry, along with a considerable number of warships."
Head bowed in thought, his steps did not pause.
In truth, Andrew had long wanted to see whether the hot weapons of this era could truly compare to martial arts—the supersonic fighter jets and warships armed with devastating weaponry were the best symbols of technological power. Beyond that lay the real trump cards: intercontinental missiles, nuclear bombs, hydrogen bombs.
Just then—
A cold voice reached Andrew’s ears: "You’re ready to set out."
It sounded half like a statement, half like a question. Andrew stopped and looked up at the building across the way, where, behind a window, Miles Ning appeared, a cigarette between his lips.
"Mm."
Andrew nodded without further explanation.
"Before you leave, come over. I have something for you." Miles Ning’s voice was cool as he turned back into his apartment, as if preparing something.
Andrew was slightly puzzled at these words.
Given Miles Ning’s status, he surely knew about the turmoil in Sinovera’s martial world... Thinking this, Andrew glanced at Lucy spinning circles on the distant lawn, her cheeks flushed, then headed into Miles Ning’s apartment.