“Old Master, Third Master isn’t wrong!”
Zhou Zhenghao added, “Tang Shaozee has begged me countless times too! He couldn’t even become a follower if he wanted!”
Tang Wannian slapped his thigh and laughed. “Now that Grandmaster Jiang has killed Lin Zhenyu—such brilliance, such dominance—naturally, even more people want to be Grandmaster Jiang’s followers!”
Everyone burst into laughter once more.
“Set off the firecrackers!”
“Set off the fireworks!”
Zhou Zhenghao and Tang Wannian even brought out firecrackers and fireworks, lighting them outside the gate. They jumped and cheered for joy, acting like two little kids celebrating the New Year.
Seeing this, Elder Tang shook his head with a bitter smile, then said solemnly, “Grandmaster Jiang, this matter is of great significance, no small affair. I think we should hold a grand Heroes’ Banquet, to properly connect with the major figures of the martial world!”
Elder Tang straddled both the martial and military worlds. Well-versed in martial affairs and state matters alike, he was a shrewd old fox.
He knew that although Jiang Tian’s might now shook the world, he had also made many enemies. With Jiang Tian’s wild and unrestrained nature, he naturally paid no heed to these adversaries.
But as Grandmaster Jiang’s subordinates, they needed to be perceptive and help resolve some of these conflicts for him.
Inviting those with grudges to share a drink, exchange pleasantries, smooth things over with a few polite words on Jiang Tian’s behalf—that was the right path to turn hostility into harmony.
“Never mind!”
Jiang Tian, however, saw no need for it.
After all, he had already given them many antidote pills to neutralize the fire poison, settling that conflict.
“Grandmaster Jiang, why not gather? Don’t worry, leave everything to our Tang family to handle. We won’t trouble you with a thing!” Elder Tang said with a smile.
“My grandfather’s birthday is coming up soon. I haven’t returned in three years. This time, I must go no matter what!”
A trace of longing flashed in Jiang Tian’s eyes as he spoke calmly.
It wasn’t three years; it was ten thousand years!
Among the third generation of the Jiang family, Jiang Tian was the one his grandfather doted on the most.
In his previous life, after being expelled from the family, Jiang Tian held deep resentment and failed to understand his grandfather. He didn’t even see him one last time.
He’d heard that on his deathbed, his grandfather, his consciousness fading, kept muttering Jiang Tian’s name. Finally, he shouted “Make us proud!” three times before breathing his last.
It could be said the old man died with regrets, his eyes unclosed.
In this life, I have returned. I will definitely ensure you live to a hundred, healthy and blessed, without a single regret.
“Oh, filial piety comes first in all virtues. We understand Grandmaster Jiang’s decision!”
Everyone quickly nodded. Exchanging glances, their hearts grew restless.
Attending the birthday celebration for Elder Jiang Changgeng… what a rare opportunity to curry favor with Jiang Tian!
…
Las Vegas, Chinatown.
Lights blazed brilliantly. Luxury cars were as numerous as rain, gamblers as thick as clouds.
The Po Jing Building, over 88 stories tall, stood like a gem-encrusted arrow thrust straight into the sky.
In Las Vegas, this casino ranked among the top three, famous for its massive scale, luxurious facilities, good reputation, and beautiful dealers.
It was a den of extravagance and a paradise for major global gamblers, a place they lingered in and forgot to leave. Daily turnover could reach tens of millions of dollars.
But only those with deep knowledge of the underworld knew this was the headquarters of the famous Big Circle, the top overseas Chinese society.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
A Marine One business helicopter hovered over the building’s rooftop and slowly descended.
This helicopter was the same model as the US President’s official helicopter, produced in limited quantities by Sikorsky Aircraft, priced at a staggering 40 million US dollars. It could seat 20 people and was outfitted with luxury amenities, making it highly sought-after by the wealthy.
The cabin door opened. A man dressed in a tuxedo, with blonde hair and blue eyes, elegant as a nobleman, whose age was impossible to discern, stepped out slowly.
He was extremely handsome, with elegant and graceful manners. Anyone familiar with the fashion world or high society would surely gasp in recognition upon seeing him.
He was a prince from a Western European country, owned several luxury brands, and was notorious for his numerous romantic entanglements, making frequent appearances in the entertainment news.
But at this moment, his aura was imposing. Lightning and fire seemed to flicker in his gaze, making it hard to look directly at him.
Behind him followed a string of men and women, all dressed as business elites. The men were tall and imposing, their auras surging, their eyes sharp as lightning—clearly possessing extraordinary skills. The women were of various ethnicities, but all had stunning figures and were exquisitely beautiful; among them were even two famous Hollywood stars.
The blonde man led them into the rooftop elevator. Numerous black-clad guards nearby bowed their heads in respect.
“‘Sun God’ Apollo actually came to headquarters. Something big must be happening!”
The guards whispered to each other, their expressions turning grave.
He had a dual identity. Not only was he the Big Circle’s chief for Europe, but he was also one of the Twelve Olympians of the Western supernatural world, a pillar of the European Pantheon.
To the outside world, he always appeared as the prince, secretly supporting the Big Circle’s operations in Europe. He rarely contacted the Big Circle personally. His arrival here personally gave everyone a sense of impending storm.
“I heard all the regional leaders are coming. I just saw ‘Black Ape’! He really is a lump of charcoal!”
One guard joked.
“Shut up, Jacks! Don’t you know Black Ape Karl hates people talking about his skin color!”
The lead guard gnashed his teeth and roared angrily, “If he hears you, he’ll tear you apart and eat you alive!”
Jacks thought of Black Ape Karl’s massive, mountain-like frame and immediately felt a chill, obediently falling silent.
Watching Apollo’s figure disappear into the elevator, everyone felt suspicious and shocked.
So many of the Big Circle’s top figures returning together—this was a grand occasion that didn’t even happen at the annual ancestor-worship meetings. What on earth had happened?
…
Meanwhile, Apollo descended to the top floor, walked into a large meeting room decorated in a classical Chinese style, and saw that many of the Big Circle’s top figures had already arrived.
“Prince William, you’re late!”
Seeing Apollo arrive, an elderly man in his seventies, wearing traditional Chinese attire and sitting at the head of the table, spoke with displeasure.
“Honorable Six Master Fan, don’t blame me. Besides working for the Big Circle, I also work for the Pantheon. As you know, vampires have appeared in London recently. I just finished battling them.”
Apollo lazily took a seat. Picking up a fine Cuban cigar from the table, he twirled his fingers. A flame ignited from his fingertips. He lit the cigar, took a light puff, and shrugged.
The meeting room was filled with many powerful figures, but most stood respectfully. Only eight people were seated. Among them were the Big Circle’s seven top leaders.
These seven leaders each oversaw a major region, controlling underground forces across several countries.
There were men and women among them, from different regions and ethnicities. But each exuded a deep and surging aura—some sharp as unsheathed swords, some solid as Mount Tai, some profound as great abysses.
They were either supernatural beings or practitioners of various strange arts. In terms of strength, they were in no way inferior to Chinese martial grandmasters.
The Big Circle originated from the waves of illegal immigration from the 1950s to the 1970s, boasting a seventy-year history. It gathered many strong individuals, with experts as numerous as trees in a forest.
Moreover, they were engaged in highly lucrative, shady businesses like arms, drugs, human trafficking, kidnapping, and casinos, making money quickly. They now controlled assets worth hundreds of billions of US dollars, comparable to a small country.
Today’s Big Circle had transcended being solely Chinese. It absorbed various elements, with powerful figures from around the globe joining the fold, making it exceptionally formidable.
But the man at the head of the table was about eighty-nine years old, frail, with a decaying aura. His right hand retained only a thumb; the other four fingers were missing, cleanly severed at the palm by some sharp weapon.
Clearly, he possessed no cultivation.
Yet, no one dared show the slightest disrespect towards this aged, disabled man.
Because he was the Big Circle’s spokesman, its leader—Six Master Fan!
Back in the day, he had organized various overseas Chinese gangs and single-handedly founded the Big Circle. In the US, he could freely lobby in Congress, drinking and joking with senators and speakers, holding a supremely high status.
When he first made his name, his nickname was Six-Fingered Fan. But now, with his advanced age, high seniority, and esteemed position, everyone respectfully called him Six Master.
“A few vampires are nothing; they can’t make much of a stir. Don’t worry about them.”
Six Master Fan’s face was as calm as an ancient well. Then, a cold light flashed in his eyes as he said gravely, “The changes in China are what matter most now. Lin Zhenyu has died in China!”
“What? Senior Lin is really dead?”
A bewitching woman with long blonde hair, wearing a high-slit dress that revealed her fair, plump legs—giving off a seductive vibe—covered her red lips and exclaimed in shock.
A flash of greed and heat passed through Apollo’s eyes, mixed with a hint of wariness.
This woman’s codename was “Golden Scorpion of the Mediterranean,” also known as the Killing Beauty Scorpion. She was a metal-based supernatural, exceptionally fierce and powerful.
Last year, an oil tycoon in the UAE controlling billions in oil production died mysteriously in his heavily guarded seaside villa. Rumor had it that was her handiwork.
“Yes, Lin Zhenyu has been killed by a martial arts expert in China, on a large lake there. His body was even shattered!”
The successor to Lin Zhenyu, the person in charge of the North American region, “Little Wu,” said somberly.
He was a handsome young man, also Lin Zhenyu’s most outstanding disciple, having reached the peak of inner strength.
“This is unbelievable. Master Lin was our Big Circle’s top martial artist, yet someone killed him…”
Golden Scorpion was deeply shocked. A strange metallic sheen flickered in her eyes, as if liquid mercury flowed within.
“To kill Senior Lin Zhenyu, at least five or six grandmasters would have had to join forces. Which forces acted? Was it the Dragon Division? The Martial Alliance? The Singapore Chinese Association from Southeast Asia? Or… did the military intervene directly?”
A black man of superhuman height, sitting in his chair like a mountain occupying the space, his head almost touching the ceiling, spoke gravely.
White paint formed strange patterns on his skin, and a faint, peculiar power seemed to flow within them.
Apollo knew he was called “Black Ape Karl,” the chief for the African region. He now controlled much of Africa’s arms trade, human trafficking, and diamond production zones, supplying the Big Circle with profits exceeding tens of billions of dollars annually.
Apollo’s eyes held a trace of wariness.
He remembered that this man was descended from an old African shaman, possessing mysterious earth-based powers, capable of withstanding machine gun fire.
Once, a warlord from a small African country tried to assassinate him. He managed to flip three tanks and fight his way out of the encirclement.
“It wasn’t the Dragon Division, nor the Martial Alliance, nor the Singapore Association from Southeast Asia. It was a newly risen martial arts expert from China, called Jiang Taichu. He’s not even thirty years old.”
Little Wu said with an extremely grave expression, relaying the gathered intelligence.
“Not even thirty? How is that possible! China’s grandmaster-level martial artists are all over forty!”
“Who on earth is this Jiang Taichu?”
Everyone was shocked, their faces pale. Even Apollo looked as if facing a great enemy, his pupils swirling with intimidating flames.
