These black-clad fighters had clearly trained in combined-assault techniques—their movements were precise, and their coordination in attack and defense was impressively tight.
If a typical peak-Postnatal cultivator got caught in their encirclement, they'd be captured alive within three or five moves, no question.
But Ian Song wasn’t typical—he was an Innate‑Rank Master.
As the saying goes, 'one force can break ten thousand techniques.' After a few exchanges, Ian channeled eighty percent of his true essence into his fists and unleashed a barrage with all the power of Night Battle Eight Directions.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A string of impact sounds rang out as all eight black-clad attackers were sent flying with screams, crashing down into the living room.
"Innate‑Rank Master!"
Seeing this, the black-clad middle-aged leader’s face changed drastically. He’d never dreamed that Ian Song, a high schooler, could be an Innate‑Rank Master.
"Who are you, really? Speak!"
Ian took a step forward, his gaze locked on the black-clad leader.
The black-clad leader took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself. "Ian Song, I’m here on behalf of Mr. Nathan Nangong. He wants you to come with us."
"The Nangong Family!"
Ian’s expression shifted slightly. He’d known he’d have to face off with the Nangong Family sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected the day to come so soon. If they were coming for him in person, it meant they’d probably figured out his connection to Blood Rose.
The Nangongs could’ve found out in two ways—either Blood Rose herself told them, or maybe that gold‑rank assassin snitched.
If it was the first possibility, Blood Rose was in real trouble—she might already have been caught by the Nangongs.
Thinking of this, his eyes grew cold. He sneered, "Nathan Nangong is the president of a huge conglomerate—why would he waste his time on a high schooler like me?"
The leader looked a little awkward. "That’s above my pay grade, Ian. But for Mr. Nangong’s sake, I hope you’ll come quietly."
"Fine, I’ll go with you." Ian said after a moment’s thought. He knew you had to enter the tiger’s den to catch a tiger—the Nangongs were too powerful to run from forever. Besides, he was still worried about his uncle’s family. He had no choice but to go.
Seeing Ian agree, the leader was both surprised and suspicious. He decided he’d better report that Ian Song was an Innate‑Rank Master to Third Master.
Downstairs, into the car, straight to the Nangong Family estate.
Fifteen minutes later, the car rolled straight into the Nangong Family estate and stopped in front of a grand hall.
"Ian Song, we’ve arrived. Please get out." The black-clad leader was unusually polite—no matter what, Ian was an Innate‑Rank Master. Even as an enemy, that kind of strength deserved respect.
Ian nodded, stepped out of the car, and strode into the hall.
There were only three people inside the hall.
One sat, two stood.
The seated man looked about forty, with a square face and an air of authority—definitely Nathan Nangong. The two standing were vigorous elders, their gazes sharp yet reserved. Ian guessed both were powerful martial artists.
Ian stood in the center of the hall, swept his gaze over the trio, and said, "I’m not sure why Mr. Nangong has called me here. What advice do you have?"
Bang!
Nathan Nangong slammed his palm on the table and barked, "Ian Song, you’ve got some nerve—colluding with Blood Rose to harm my son! Do you admit your guilt?"
"Oh?" Ian looked genuinely surprised. "Mr. Nangong, you must be mistaken. I don’t know any Blood Rose, and I’ve never tried to harm your son."
"Still trying to talk your way out of it?" Nathan’s eyes were icy as he stared him down.
"What’s there to argue? If you brought me here just for this, then I don’t see any point in talking. I’ll take my leave—it’s late, and I have school tomorrow."
Seeing Ian turn to leave, Nathan Nangong couldn’t help but fly into a rage.
"How dare you! The Nangong Family isn’t a place you can come and go as you please!"
"Oh? What, is the Nangong Family some kind of tiger’s den now?" Ian turned back with a grin.
Nathan Nangong was even more annoyed by Ian’s attitude. He turned to the elder on his left and snapped, "Second Elder, take down this arrogant brat!"
"Young man, you’re far too cocky—this won’t end well!" The Second Elder stepped forward, crossing three or four meters in a single stride to stop two meters from Ian.
"Isn’t youth supposed to be a little reckless? Don’t you agree, old-timer?" Ian asked with a smile.
The Second Elder was momentarily taken aback, then said, "You’ve got a sharp tongue, kid. Let’s see what your hands can do!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Second Elder stepped forward again and struck at Ian’s chest with his palm.
The elder’s palm strike was straightforward, not exactly subtle, but it packed serious power—a wave of force came crashing straight at Ian.
Ian realized the elder was just testing his strength.
So he played along, channeling eighty percent of his true essence and meeting the attack head‑on.
Boom!
Their palms collided in midair, unleashing a burst of energy and a thunderous crash.
Thud, thud, thud.
Ian staggered back three steps before steadying himself, while the Second Elder didn’t budge. Ian’s eyes grew serious—this elder was probably at Innate Second Layer.
"Not bad, young man! You actually took a palm with eighty percent of my power!" The Second Elder was surprised—and he noticed Ian’s true qi was unusually pure and condensed. He hadn’t retreated, but his whole arm felt faintly numb. That was impressive for someone so young.
"Is that so? Then let’s try again!"
Ian barked and launched an attack, unleashing his full true essence and activating the first form of Raging Tidal Surge.
"Huh!"
The Second Elder gasped—Ian’s palm technique was incredibly refined and came with a strange force field that tugged at his body.
With no other choice, he raised his palm to meet the attack.
But the moment their palms touched, the elder knew he was in trouble—a surge of power blasted out from Ian’s hand and crashed into his body.
"Ugh!"
With a muffled groan, the Second Elder staggered back, but Ian gave him no chance to recover, immediately launching the second form of Raging Tidal Surge.
The palm struck like crashing waves, and the force field grew even stronger. The elder felt like he was lost in a vast, rolling ocean, shrinking to nothing, and Ian’s figure blurred before his eyes.
Bang!
A ghostlike palm appeared out of nowhere and slammed into his chest, hard.
Pfft!
The Second Elder spat blood and was sent flying.
"Not good!"
The elder standing on Nathan Nangong’s other side turned pale and shot forward, whipping out a foot-long iron rod from his waist. He swept it out, creating a curtain of heavy stick shadows that enveloped Ian.
"Nice move!"
Ian twisted his body and unleashed the third form of Raging Tidal Surge on the other elder.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
With a series of explosive bursts, Ian’s palms slammed into the elder’s chest and lower abdomen, sending him flying with a scream.
Ian instantly closed the distance, silently activating Puppet Mastery. He pointed at the elder’s brow—a speck of black light shot into his mind, and the elder’s eyes went dull.