What a truly tragic morning. Opening the computer screen… damn it… only two more slots added… that’s beyond pitiful…

Beyond the frontier, in the vast, desolate mountains.

In an unremarkable location beyond the frontier, a towering wooden gate marked the bandit stronghold. Rows of torches burned in the wind, crackling audibly, casting an air of brigandage under the night sky, announcing the camp’s aggressive nature.

This was the headquarters of the Peck Marauder Band, currently ranked ninth among the frontier's bandit forces.

Waves of raucous noise occasionally erupted into the night, carrying the unique wildness of the frontier bandits.

Inside a black house constructed of dark stone at the center of the compound, sat more than a dozen men and women with fierce looks, clutching various weapons. This was the most significant meeting the Peck Marauder Band had convened since rising to become the ninth-ranked group.

Peck sat upon the black stone throne in the chamber, sweeping his gaze over everyone with undisguised displeasure. He lightly shook a letter in his hand, the motion appearing more like a tremor born of rage, as if a furious fire was burning madly in his chest.

A provocation, a naked provocation!

Peck had read the letter in his hand more than once. The bandit hunters who had vanished from the frontier for days had reappeared, and they had sent a letter directly to the Peck Marauder Band—currently the most notorious group in the frontier—demanding the return of stolen goods.

Return the goods? Peck gave a chilling, cold laugh. The bandit code out here didn't include any provision for returning items. There was only the possibility that the robbed party might pay a price to retrieve their cargo from the bandits, provided the bandits even consented to the transaction.

If this had happened before, Peck might have considered sending someone to negotiate with the claimant, perhaps offering terms to ransom the merchandise.

But now? The Peck Marauder Band was one of the top ten bandit groups in the frontier, their strength and influence growing daily. Even when demanding ransom, the other party should soften their tone and adopt a more humble posture. Where did this letter’s demanding style come from?

【To the Peck Marauder Band: I am Qian Jin, the First Guardian of the Luo Family. I hear you seized my family's possessions. Return everything to the Luo Family of the Zhence Dynasty within seven days, and compensate for the time wasted. Swear never again to rob the Luo Family’s assets, or else… the Peck Marauder Band will not only cease to be one of the top ten groups, but will completely vanish! Bandit Hunter: Qian Jin.】

"Qian Jin? What in the hell is this Qian Jin, daring to issue such a challenge to me?" Peck slammed his palm down onto the stone table before him. The thick slab instantly fractured into debris, sending several shards tumbling down the steps to the floor.

The dozen people in the room stared at the heap of rubble with ashen faces. The Peck Marauder Band, one of the top ten bandit groups in the frontier, had actually been threatened? If this news got out, how could they maintain any standing out here?

"Chieftain…"

A weary bandit rushed into the room and knelt on the floor: "I've found out about this Qian Jin. I hear he is a warrior cadet from the Conquest Academy, an ordinary fighter. He is slated to be part of the Torrent Fortress, the current Guild Master of the Eternal Flow Ironworks Union, and possibly the next Guild Master of both the Alchemists' Guild and the Unscrupulous Society. A few days ago, Feng Liancikwang was killed by his hand…"

As the bandit spoke each sentence, the expressions of those in the hall shifted. This resume was utterly confounding; who exactly was this person?

Feng Liancikwang? A sharp intake of breath echoed through the room. Someone as formidable as Feng Liancikwang had fallen to Qian Jin? No wonder this brat’s letter carried such an arrogant tone, and his method of delivery was equally astonishing.

Dead men delivering messages! Thirty members of the Peck Marauder Band received word that another batch of extremely valuable cargo would appear nearby. They gathered and rode out to kill and plunder, only for thirty horses loaded with the thirty corpses of the Peck bandits to return to headquarters.

If it had only been a letter, Peck wouldn't be this enraged, but thirty subordinates sent out to rob and kill had been slaughtered, and this extremely provocative letter was delivered with their bodies.

"Chieftain, I think we should just return the items. This Qian Jin doesn't look like someone easy to provoke," said a middle-aged woman, somewhat plump with pale skin, dressed in an outfit far more like a wealthy socialite than a bandit. She looked uncomfortably at the towering Chieftain Peck.

Several bandit leaders nodded in agreement. Making a living out here meant having scores, even dozens, of human and demonic lives on one's hands. They had all seen the wounds left by Qian Jin’s killing—they clearly weren't the work of one person. Some were split in half, others pierced through the head by an arrow, and some had their throats slit by an arrow.

Every method of slaughter indicated extremely practiced combat skills.

"Return the things? Li Ming! Have you lost your mind? Our business is robbery and murder! Only demons, barbarians, and men fear us; when has it ever been our turn to fear them? If they dare kill members of our Marauder Band, they must be prepared to die!"

A thin man sitting across from the stout woman suddenly sprang up, a knife used for carving roasted meat in his hand, glaring at the plump woman Li Ming and roaring: "Damn it! People without balls truly lack courage! A woman is just a woman!"

Peck impassively shifted his gaze to a middle-aged man beside him. Everyone else followed suit, focusing on the strategist—a man with a triangular face, arched eyebrows, a goatee, fanning himself with a folding fan, possessing an overall rat-like appearance.

The Peck Marauder Band’s current success, besides the Chieftain’s sheer brute strength, owed a significant debt to this goatee-wearing strategist, Liu Sidianqing.

"Chieftain, I suggest we prepare for battle," Liu Sidianqing said, enjoying the attention as he gently waved his fan. "Let's disregard whatever this Qian Jin did before. Analyzing the way he eliminated our thirty members shows he has no moral burden regarding killing us bandits."

The others nodded frequently. Killing was something most warriors did not enjoy; they usually felt some psychological discomfort. But based on the corpses, the person who acted this time was swift and decisive.

"If I'm not mistaken, he is a very direct person. In his view, bandits' hands are stained with the blood of innocents, so…" Liu Sidianqing shrugged. "He didn't send this letter to negotiate with us; he sent it to establish dominance through slaughter."

Chilling words squeezed out between Liu Sidianqing's teeth. The room, which had been wildly agitated moments before, instantly fell silent. Everyone felt the air temperature in the room rapidly dropping.

Killing? Establishing dominance? Using the ninth-ranked bandit group in the frontier to make a statement? Had this Qian Jin gone mad? Did he intend to confront a major frontier bandit group alone? Or perhaps he intended to bring the forces of Yongliu City into the frontier? If that were the case, this would no longer be a battle between guardians, but a war between established powers.

If that truly happened, the Eight Desolations of the Unborn—the factions outside the frontier bandits—would certainly join the fray, escalating the conflict entirely. In that scenario, the Yongliu faction would likely be the ones suffering losses.

Peck leaned his powerfully broad frame forward slightly, his wolf-like eyes fixed on Liu Sidianqing. This strategist had never once been wrong since joining the band. When the Black Wind and the Barbarians had tried to recruit him recently, it was this sharp-eyed strategist who repeatedly dissuaded him, leading to the Peck Marauder Band becoming the ninth greatest power in the frontier today.

"Strategist, you mean he is definitely coming?" A sinister smile slowly spread across Peck's face, reaching his eyes and the corners of his mouth. "Then, Strategist, what do you think we should do?"

"Place the stolen goods in the center of the stronghold, and pretend to negotiate with them," Liu Sidianqing chuckled, shaking his fan. "Lure them all out, and kill them outright! Hang all their heads above the main gate of the stronghold to announce our band’s power to the entire frontier!"

"That suggestion is good, but…" Peck’s coldly smiling face showed a hint of contemplation. "If I remember correctly, the headquarters of the once fifth-ranked Thorn Fury Marauder Band was attacked by these same bandit hunters. That was a massive band of five hundred men, equipped with various defensive magic formations. I hear they were either wiped out or completely vanished…"

The faces of those in the room stiffened further. Although the Peck Marauder Band was currently ranked ninth, they were undeniably inferior in strength to the Thorn Fury Band when they were ranked fifth. If even Thorn Fury couldn't stop those hunters, what right did Peck’s band have to assume they could?

Liu Sidianqing suddenly burst into laughter, his chuckles growing louder and more frequent as he threw his head back happily. "Of course I know about that incident, but perhaps you gentlemen don't know the real reason for the Thorn Fury Band's defeat? Those missing bandits weren't all killed; they were captured."

Captured alive? The expressions of the crowd grew grim. Capturing alive was sometimes much harder than executing.

"Almost all of those captured were executed by the Bandit King," Liu Sidianqing’s face briefly showed a smug smile again. "But, some people still survived. I found one of them and questioned him. They weren't defeated in a direct confrontation; they were poisoned. After eating dinner, their bodies went weak and heavy, unable to even lift their arms…"

"Poisoned?" Peck’s face also broke into a smile. "If that's the case, even an ordinary person could sweep through that bandit group."

The grim-faced, silent bandit leaders all broke into relieved smiles. As long as they paid close attention to their food and drink, the bandit hunters would never have a chance to win.

"Well, everyone still needs to be extremely vigilant," Peck's expression had lost its initial fury, replaced by the caution born of years spent facing life and death. "Judging by the corpses of the members who returned, these few bandit hunters must be strong; their actions were very decisive…"