Just as the Soul-Split enforcer's palm was about to strike the old man's face, the old man glared at him and scolded, "You little brat, hitting an old man like me—aren't you ashamed?"
"Smack!"
A crisp slap rang out.
But the one who got slapped wasn't the old man—it was the Soul-Split thug himself, and the one who hit him was... his own hand.
"Ouch!"
The next moment, the Soul-Split enforcer cried out in pain, looking dazed, completely confused as to why he'd just hit himself.
"Grandpa, are you okay?" Hannah Murong finally rushed to the old man's side, her face full of concern.
"What could possibly happen to me? That little brat couldn't hurt me even if he tried!" the old man bragged smugly.
Seeing this, Ian Song felt a chill in his heart. He'd been watching the old man's every move just now, but still couldn't figure out what trick the old man had used to make the Soul-Split thug suddenly stop and slap himself.
"Could he really be a hidden expert, playing the pig to eat the tiger?" Ian wondered.
Manager Marks was also stunned by the scene. He immediately shouted at the Soul-Split enforcer, "Wu Shan, what the hell are you doing? I told you to teach that old geezer a lesson, not slap yourself! You're an embarrassment!"
"I...!" Wu Shan, the Soul-Split enforcer, felt wronged. He had no idea what happened—some strange force made him pull back and slap himself.
Feeling the burning pain on his cheek, his eyes turned cold as he glared at the old man. "Old bastard, I'm going to kill you!"
Murderous intent flashed in Wu Shan's eyes as he threw a punch.
"You little brat, looks like that slap wasn't enough to teach you a lesson!" the old man sneered.
"Bang!"
With a muffled grunt, Wu Shan's tall figure shot out of the room like a cannonball, landing straight in the courtyard.
"Ugh!"
He spat out a mouthful of blood, looking utterly miserable.
Bizarre! Utterly bizarre!
Once again, it was Wu Shan himself who sent himself flying—just like before. He was about to strike the old man, but at the last second, he pulled back and punched himself in the chest with full force.
"What the hell is going on?"
This time, Ian Song released his divine sense, monitoring every movement in the room, and even activated his Clairvoyant Vision—but still couldn't figure out how the old man controlled the Soul-Split enforcer's mind.
He was sure the old man had used some special technique to briefly control the enforcer's mind.
Ian was confident that even if a top expert made a move right in front of him, he wouldn't miss it. So how come he couldn't see what the old man did? Could he really be an immortal-level master?
The old man's methods completely stunned Manager Marks and the others. Wu Shan, who'd just been slapped, was actually excited, secretly thinking, 'The old immortal really is the real deal—his tricks are incredible.'
"Do you three want to give it a try too?"
The old man fixed his gaze on the other three Soul-Split enforcers.
"No! No way!"
With Wu Shan's miserable example right in front of them, the three weren't stupid—they knew the old man was a true expert.
Manager Marks glared at the old man, his face ugly. "Who exactly are you, and why are you causing trouble here?"
"Pah!" The old man spat on the floor, sneering, "You really don't know how to talk. We're obviously here to buy a house—how did that turn into 'causing trouble' in your mouth?"
"Leave! We're not selling that estate anymore!" Manager Marks said, sounding both scared and angry.
"Heh, if your boss finds out you're driving customers away, I wonder how he'll deal with you?" the old man sneered. "Enough, I don't want to argue with juniors like you. Just tell me—how many spirit crystals for that cursed house?"
Manager Marks hesitated, then gritted his teeth. "At least twenty thousand!"
"Ten thousand!" the old man calmly named his price.
Hearing the old man's offer, Manager Marks nearly jumped up. "Impossible! That's way too low!"
"Then don't blame me for spreading the word about this cursed house. If the place gets stuck in your hands, you won't sell it for ten thousand, either!" the old man threatened confidently.
"That's our business—just leave!" Manager Marks waved him off. This fortune-telling old man was way too weird, and he didn't want to deal with him any longer.
"Ma Yuan, what do you think you're doing? Who gave you the right to drive out customers?" Just then, a brocade-robed young man strode in, face dark, and questioned Manager Marks.
As soon as he saw the brocade-robed youth, Manager Marks's expression changed dramatically. He hurried forward to greet him, "Greetings, young master!"
"Tell me, why are you driving away customers?" the brocade-robed young master demanded, still looking displeased.
"Young master, I didn't mean to drive them out. It's just that this old gentleman is making trouble here. As for the West City estate, he offered only ten thousand top-grade spirit crystals. You know, our acquisition price was much higher than that!" Manager Marks said, sounding extremely aggrieved.
"Oh, is that so?" The brocade-robed youth's expression turned cold.
"Young master, I wouldn't dare lie to you! Please investigate thoroughly!"
"Hmph!" The brocade-robed young master snorted, turning his gaze to the old man. "Old fool, do you know whose business this brokerage belongs to? You must be tired of living, coming here to make trouble!"
"Heh, another little brat who doesn't know how to respect his elders!" the old man replied calmly, completely unfazed by the young master.
Seeing the old man disrespect his young master, Manager Marks seized the chance to curry favor. He jumped out and pointed at the old man, shouting, "How dare you! My young master is Prefect Wei's third son—open your dog eyes and see clearly! You can't afford to offend him!"
"Tsk tsk, Prefect Wei's son—such arrogance, such murderous aura!"
Just then, a discordant voice sounded.
"Damn it, who is it? Get the hell in here!" the brocade-robed young master shouted angrily.
"Wei Laosan, your temper just gets worse and worse. Now that I'm here, what are you going to do about it?" At that moment, a handsome man strode in, looking at the brocade-robed youth with disdain.
Seeing who it was, the brocade-robed youth's expression changed instantly. He bowed, "Ah, Young Master Dongfang, it's you! I didn't realize—please forgive my earlier rudeness!"
That's right—the newcomer was Dongfang Yubai.
Dongfang Yubai ignored the brocade-robed youth completely, striding straight to Ian Song. Smiling, he said, "Brother Song, if you wanted a mansion, why didn't you say so sooner? I'd have given you one myself!"
"Brother Dongfang, much appreciated!" Ian stood up and replied.
Dongfang Yubai laughed, "No need to be so formal between us. Come on, I'll take you to see an idle mansion I own. If it doesn't suit you, you can pick another one at my family's brokerage!"
Ian thought for a moment, then said, "Since you're so kind, I won't stand on ceremony!"
Seeing this, the Wei family's young master felt a chill. Even Dongfang Yubai was offering a mansion to this guy—his background must be anything but simple. Instantly dissatisfied, he glared at Manager Marks, secretly vowing to teach him a lesson after this was over.
Manager Marks was completely stunned, and deeply regretted it. He knew Dongfang Yubai—the son of General Dongfang, the capital's top wastrel. Even his own young master had to curry favor with him.
But now he'd offended Dongfang Yubai's friend. His young master definitely wouldn't let him off easy.