Hearing the inquiry from sect master Hector Quinn, Tiger Leopard Gate’s Intelligence Hall chief Victor Hsu stepped forward, checked his tablet, and said, “Reporting to the sect master, according to the tracker installed on our Intelligence Hall incense master Victor Wade’s car, there are still 9.7 kilometers before he arrives here.”
“Excellent!” Hector Quinn nodded, his aged face looking a bit ferocious. “Back in our own country, we didn’t dare touch that brat, but here in Blackfield, it’s different. We can kill him and pin the blame on Chachai.”
“Sect master, you’re brilliant!” Victor Hsu immediately flattered him.
Suddenly, Hector Quinn changed the topic and asked, “By the way, has Chachai confessed yet?”
“That guy’s mouth is tough—he still refuses to say a word!” Victor Hsu replied nervously.
“Figure out a way! No matter what, we have to get the whereabouts of the Pure Yang Palace treasure!” Hector Quinn said in a deep voice.
“Yes, I’ll definitely think of something!”
………
Over twenty minutes later, a car drove straight into the manor.
Inside the car.
Ian Song activated his Clairvoyant Vision. Inside the manor, there were about 300 regular soldiers—Chachai’s men, though they had all betrayed him and become Tiger Leopard Gate’s lackeys.
As for Tiger Leopard Gate, there were only sixty or seventy people.
Aside from thirty-four Innate experts, the rest were ordinary martial artists—not worth worrying about.
Finally, in the manor’s basement, he saw Chachai—tortured to a bloody mess, barely recognizable as human.
As soon as the car stopped, hundreds of armed soldiers surged out, heavily surrounding the vehicle.
Next, Hector Quinn appeared in a black robe, striding over with Tiger Leopard Gate’s high-level officers.
“Old Xiang, let’s get out.”
Facing such a massive lineup, Ian Song was completely unfazed. He pushed open the car door and stepped out.
“Xiang Shan, was it you who killed my son, Qi Tianlong?”
Hector Quinn’s cold eyes locked onto Xiang Shan, his voice booming with accusation.
"Whether I did or not, what does it matter?" Xiang Shan replied coolly.
"You stubborn fool, still mouthing off on the brink of death?" Hector Quinn roared in anger.
"Who’s going to die isn’t set in stone yet." Ian Song said cheerfully, as if unconcerned about being surrounded.
"Zhao Family brat, you’re not escaping today. You’ll pay blood for blood and die for my son!" Hector Quinn’s venomous gaze shifted to Ian Song.
"Old man, you shouldn't get so worked up. At your age, too much excitement could give you a heart attack!" Ian Song joked. The rumors were true—Hector Quinn had indeed broken through the Innate Eighth Layer barrier and become a Ninth Layer powerhouse.
"Sect master, let me take care of this brat!" said Don Langley, War Wolf Hall master, who had reached Innate Seventh Layer.
"Don’t let him die too easily. First break his arms and legs, then gouge out his eyes. Make him die slowly in agony!" Hector Quinn snarled.
"Don’t worry, sect master! I have a technique called Tendon-Tearing Bone-Shattering Grip. I’ll use it on him and make him wish he were dead!" Don Langley grinned viciously.
With that, Don Langley strode forward, glaring at Ian Song. "Ready, brat?"
"Ready for what? I don’t need to prepare for a small fry like you. Bring it!" Ian Song sneered, beckoning with his finger.
"Looking for death!"
With a cold shout, Don Langley shot forward, instantly closing the distance. His hands, crackling with Innate energy, darted toward Ian Song’s shoulders like lightning.
Ian Song slid backward, his arms sweeping out. Dozens of coins shot toward Don Langley like a rain of flowers.
Ding ding ding ding!
Don Langley’s hands flashed, swatting away every coin. "Parlor tricks—how dare you show off such nonsense!" he sneered.
"Oh really? Try this one!"
Raging Tidal Surge, Fifth Form!
This martial art was a system reward, its grade far surpassing any Innate-level technique in this world.
Boom!
As Ian Song’s palms struck out, a crashing wave sound echoed. A powerful force pulled at Don Langley, throwing off his balance.