The moment George Kwok arrived, the whole vibe of the scene changed. What had been a rowdy networking feast instantly turned into a serious, buttoned-up conference. As soon as folks got serious, the atmosphere flipped. If you looked closely, even the seating order had hidden meaning. The big sects sent plenty of people—monks, nuns, Daoists, and even scholars—all grouped by their own factions, quietly keeping the whole crowd in check.
George Kwok, Helen Wong, and their crew sat at the head table, with their families taking seats nearby. Grace Kwok was in that row, waving and chatting with friends. The heads of major sects and famous martial artists also landed those VIP seats. Whether they'd plotted together beforehand or not, there was a subtle, knowing look among them. They all scanned the crowd with sharp eyes, especially keeping tabs on the ragtag martial artists who showed up without invitations.
No small talk, no beating around the bush this time. George Kwok looked deadly serious, and the topic was even more so: "Folks, just over half a month ago, Chester Chu of the True Reality Sect was assassinated. Three days later, Serenity Abbey on Greenridge Mountain was wiped out—no survivors, top to bottom. Ten days ago, Shaolin Monastery was sacked, left in ruins and rivers of blood. In just a week, three of the biggest, most righteous sects have been hit. It's a full-blown crisis for the martial world."
The clueless crowd erupted in shocked chatter as soon as they heard that.
"Greenridge Mountain got wiped out? Seriously?!"
"Not the whole mountain—Serenity Abbey is just one big Daoist temple up there. The head priest, Master Perfectus, had a legendary reputation, but who'd have thought the whole place would get wiped out? That's just..."
"True Reality Sect, Greenridge Mountain, Shaolin Monastery—if you count it up, the main Daoist and Buddhist powerhouses have all been hit!"
Back in the day, news traveled slow. Unless you ran a top-notch spy network or something truly wild happened, most events—especially those across borders—took ages to reach everyone. George Kwok's announcement was earth-shattering, but not everyone was in the loop. Now, hearing that the biggest righteous sects had been wiped out in just a few days? The martial world was in shock.
Modern folks might not get it, so let me put it this way: Imagine if, in one week, the Ministry of Culture, the Ministry of Education, and the Department of State all vanished one after the other—and then the FCC got nuked for good measure. That kind of apocalyptic panic would leave everyone scrambling, totally lost.
With the righteous sects in ruins, all anyone could do was turn to someone they trusted: "Mr. George, what do we do now?"
George Kwok swept his gaze across the crowd, his presence radiating authority in every direction. "Throughout history, good and evil rise and fall in turn. When the righteous falter, evil flourishes—like wildfire spreading through the hills. As martial heroes of the righteous path, we must unite and stamp out these flames. If we let this blaze rage unchecked, the consequences will be catastrophic. That's why I've invited you all here today: to join forces against evil. One person's plan is short, but together, we are strong. If every hero joins hands, sharing life and death, we can turn the tide and reshape our fate!"
George’s words rang out like a gong, sparking a wave of chatter among the crowd. While everyone murmured, he exchanged a grave look with Helen Wong. Ten days ago, when news broke that Shaolin Monastery had been wiped out, the couple spent the whole night secretly discussing what to do next.
Helen’s analysis had made it clear: the destruction of Shaolin was even worse than it seemed.
First, True Reality Sect lost a master. Then Greenridge suffered a blow. Now Shaolin Monastery has been completely wiped out. This wave of destruction is getting fiercer and fiercer—like a tsunami crashing in. Chester Chu, the Greenridge clan, Shaolin Monastery on Mount Song—all are pillars of the martial world. If this keeps up, the line between good and evil will collapse, and even the Song Dynasty itself could be shaken. So we must stop this trend with everything we've got, or disaster will be endless.
“Endless disaster…” George muttered, his eyes growing even more determined. Desperate times call for desperate measures—he’d use whatever strategies or tricks were needed, even if they went against his nature. The Beggar Sect had been running ragged for this day.
So today, failure is not an option. There’s no turning back.
Someone spoke up: “Mr. George, Mrs. Helen, what should we do about this crisis?”
Helen Wong stood up, graceful as ever, and powered up her inner strength to address everyone: “When the world’s in chaos, you need to hunt tigers in the mountains and dragons in the sea—no exceptions. Tigers kill, flies feast on rot. Tigers are nasty, but flies are just as annoying. In times like these, the big villains must be taken out, but don’t forget the small-time crooks who pop up in the chaos. The worst villains deserve a thousand deaths, but we can’t let the petty ones off the hook either. My husband and I want to form an ‘Alliance Against Evil’ with all the heroes present. In this alliance, intel about bad guys and criminals will be shared. We’ll put up bounties, and you can decide for yourselves. Bring in a villain’s head, and you get the reward!”
“A reward?” The mention of cash got some folks interested, but others weren’t buying it. Someone immediately called out, “Mrs. Helen, what are you talking about? We martial heroes do what’s right—it’s not about the money!”
“A gentleman doesn’t take what’s not his,” Yelü Qi cut in. “Sure, fighting is our duty, but those who pull off heroic feats deserve recognition. Even if we’re not greedy for gold, we can use it to help the poor and uphold justice. The Beggar Sect is in—money, manpower, you name it.”
“Count the Kongtong Sect in.” “Taishan Sect too.” “My Beast Manor’s joining.” “So is Weiyuan Escort Agency…” With Yelü Qi taking the lead, all the bigwigs in the VIP seats chimed in. Clearly, they’d planned this ahead—no one looked surprised. Finally, an old monk intoned, his voice booming across the hall, “Amitabha, Putian Shaolin joins the Alliance Against Evil. We’ll fight evil to the very end!”
(Chapter not finished yet ^.^ Please click next page to continue reading!)
Putian Shaolin is a branch of the main Shaolin Monastery, located in Fujian’s Putian. While it’s not as renowned as the original, it’s still a major force in the martial world.
Plus, right now they’re the biggest victims in all this, so their voice carries a lot of weight.
“Uh…” The righteous warriors were at a loss for words—everyone was clearly tempted.
Money isn’t everything, but when you add duty, crisis, mission, faith, and self-preservation, the power is huge. In just a few words, the specifics of the Alliance Against Evil weren’t even clear, but plenty of people were already hooked.
“This was Helen Wong’s idea, right? Meeting her in person is something else. The alliance’s bounty system is practically a ‘kill order’—brilliant!” Jia Tengying couldn’t help but clap and nod. “It’s like a mercenary guild or a quest platform—totally new for this world, and it really gets people fired up. In no time, all these groups are united. The folks who killed Chester Chu and wiped out Shaolin, if they hear about this, they’ll be sweating. Actually, it’s not just them—when martial heroes start breaking the rules, who knows what’ll happen. Ha!”
While Eagle Lord was muttering, Tong Qi, South Sea Immortal, and others looked uneasy. Some faces in the crowd were just as tense, eyes darting around, clearly plotting something.
“Chief,” a middle-aged scholar whispered to his leader, “with all these martial outlaws joining forces, won’t they get too big to control and become a disaster?”
The leader smirked, “Outlaws are always outlaws. No need to worry—I have my own plans.”
While everyone was still scheming, someone spoke up. It was none other than the squinty-eyed chubby guy who’d been trading insults with Uncle Hu earlier. When he opened his mouth, folks realized he wasn’t just good at arguing—he was sharp when it came to business too: “Mr. George, Mrs. Helen, this Alliance Against Evil is a great idea. But I’ve got two questions, if you don’t mind.”
Helen sized up the squinty-eyed chubby guy, noticing a cold glint in his eyes—these questions weren’t going to be easy. She braced herself and nodded, “Go ahead.”
“Both my questions are about the future of this Alliance Against Evil,” the squinty-eyed chubby guy said, sharp as ever. “First, when the alliance puts a bounty on someone, all the heroes will rush in to take them down. Even if they can’t do it solo, they’ll band together. But I’ve been around, and I know not every government fugitive is actually a villain. Some are framed, some are heroes who took out corrupt officials—like the Condor Hero, for example. So my question is: how can you guarantee the alliance only targets the truly guilty?”
The moment he asked, the place erupted in discussion. It was a real issue, and the whole hall buzzed. Helen seemed ready for this, and calmly raised her voice to answer: “You’re absolutely right—if the alliance wrongfully kills good people, it’d be a cosmic joke. So, we’ll base our bounties on careful investigation by the Beggar Sect and the major righteous sects. Only the truly irredeemable will be targeted.”
Helen’s answer wouldn’t fly in the modern world, but here, she and George had enough clout that everyone trusted them. Most believed they weren’t out to hurt anyone for personal gain, so the trust issue was solved just like that.
“Alright, here comes my second question.” This one was even tougher. The squinty-eyed chubby guy took a deep breath and asked, “Will the Alliance Against Evil go after high-ranking Mongol officials and generals?”
That question sent shockwaves through the crowd. People started shouting, “Of course we should!” “Who’s worse than those Mongols?” “They’re all irredeemable!” “Wipe them out!”
But unlike the fired-up crowd, the couple didn’t answer right away—they were deep in thought.
The chubby guy suddenly turned to the crowd, “If we’re going after Mongol officials, then what about the Jin Dynasty? Should we go after them too?”
“Of course!”
The chubby guy pressed, “But the Jin Dynasty fell ages ago. Their old officials and generals are probably dead—just their descendants remain. Should we go after them too?”
“Kill them all—leave no trace!” Some folks were still fired up, but others caught on and quickly pulled the loudmouth aside, whispering, “You idiot—Yelü Qi is descended from Mongol officials, and Lady Wanyan’s from Jin nobility. You want to get us killed?”
“Uh…” The patriotic hothead immediately shut up—yeah, that was awkward. Yelü Qi, Yelü Yan, and Wanyan Ping were all Mongol and Jin descendants. This wasn’t the time for nationalist rants.
The hothead was silenced, but the squinty-eyed chubby guy fired up again. He called out, “Mr. George, Mrs. Helen, fellow heroes! If the alliance starts targeting enemy officials, it’ll never grow. Take Master Yideng, for example—he’s Dali royalty. Dali and Song have clashed before; if war breaks out again, will we go after him too? I just want to know how the Alliance Against Evil will operate. Where does it draw the line between national grudges, personal vendettas, and martial justice?”
It was a sharp question, and not one with a quick answer. In fact, even the sects that agreed to join didn’t have a consensus. Helen’s eyes flashed as she thought of a solution, but before she could speak, George raised a hand to stop her and answered solemnly, “You’re right. I can promise you this: the alliance will stick to martial matters. We won’t get political. If anyone wants to go after corrupt officials or traitors on their own, the alliance won’t interfere.”
“Good!” The squinty-eyed chubby guy clapped, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “One more thing: you mentioned hunting tigers and dragons—so who exactly are the worst villains, the big bads causing all this chaos?”
Finally, the topic everyone cared most about was on the table. The whole crowd perked up, listening intently.
“There are two main evildoers.” On George’s cue, Yelü Qi spoke up: “First, the Demon Sect. They’ve been hiding in the south for years, but lately they’ve started making waves. Their crimes are countless—they’re called the Manichaean Sect.”
South Sea Immortal and the others tensed up, their faces grave.
“Second, the arch-villain. You may have heard rumors, but let me make it official. This villain is the one who destroyed Qingxu Temple and Shaolin Monastery—the true source of all this chaos, the worst of the worst.” Yelü Qi scanned the crowd, enunciating each word: “The Flower Thief—Jia! Teng! Ying!”