Within a villa just outside the capital, Zuo Lin tapped a rhythm on the table with a faintly surprised smile, the sound cheerful. His eyes, slightly slender yet intensely bright, stared thoughtfully at the fluctuating data on the projection screen, murmuring to himself, "Qin Fen? Interesting. These youngsters, raised on the doctrine of absolute self-interest, actually choose to defy their families for him. Highly interesting. I hadn't expected he possessed such rare authority and charisma. If such talent were under my control, then the future..."

"You have no future."

The door slowly slid open. A chilling killing intent, like a sudden blast of Arctic air striking the equator, flooded the dimly lit corridor. In the gloom, a young man stood holding a long, crimson spear. A pungent scent of blood wafted from the spear tip, as fresh, scarlet drops slowly trickled onto the floor.

In the shadow, the youth’s brown eyes flashed with an unreadable ferocity. Though his body radiated scorching Zhenqi, his entire aura was unnervingly cold, like a starved lone wolf in the wilderness, enough to send shivers down one's spine merely by meeting his gaze.

The atmosphere of stark (solemn killing) swept through the entire room!

Zuo Lin gently swiveled in his comfortable office chair, resting his chin in his palm, watching the visibly West Asian-descended Morad with great interest. "One of Qin Fen's close confidants? I didn't expect you to arrive so swiftly, nor did I expect you to find me. Though I haven't concealed myself, finding me in just over twenty hours still gives me pause."

Snap. Zuo Lin cracked his fingers, his smile bright and dazzling. "You've arrived at the perfect time. Here to kill me for Qin Fen? Such touching friendship! I just wonder what value this friendship holds in Qin Fen's eyes? I sincerely hope it’s worth an extremely high price..."

Zuo Lin tilted his head in thought, chuckling. "Although, that’s fundamentally impossible. But since you brought it up, I must give you a lesson for life: the safest thing in this world is entanglement of mutual benefit. As for friends? They are the most useless and insecure things in existence! I’ve seen too many 'friends.' They are intangible, invisible. They shout slogans—'I am your brother,' 'I am moved because of you.' But when the moment comes for them to actually contribute, even if it's just paying a single dime daily in benefits, they will choose to shrink back! That is friendship!"

Morad stared coldly at Zuo Lin and asked lightly, "Are those your final words?"

Zuo Lin smiled, casually waving his wrist dismissively, not sparing Morad another glance. "Capture him. Alive."

Behind Zuo Lin, two figures, martial artists whose physiques were as sculpted as bronze statues, blurred and lunged toward Morad outside the door. Their fierce momentum instantly shattered the sharp, biting cold Morad had brought in upon entry.

The auras of the three Martial Arts Masters instantly intertwined. Zuo Lin stamped his feet, his body instantly flying out of the villa like a feather drifting on the wind, completely unburdened.

Zuo Lin understood perfectly the destructive power unleashed when Martial Arts Masters fight. He folded his arms across his chest, wearing a smile that appreciated everything, watching the spot where the villa once stood, now a ruin. He nodded frequently as the three masters clashed. "Qin Fen ah, I eagerly await your next move. Will you be the wise one who severs the limb, sacrificing this young Martial Arts Master to avoid rescue, or the foolish one who gives me an excuse to intervene?"

The once expensive villa instantly transformed into a pile of rubble. Traces of the masters' battle scarred the ground, as if it had been churned over countless times by the plowshares of dozens of tillers.

The police were busy with cleanup and investigation, but the master of the property had vanished without a trace.

People could only stare at the astonishing destructive power and sigh in awe; Martial Arts Masters were truly powerful engines of war.

The specialized helicopter of the Holy Martial Hall slowly descended over a pier in Hawaii. Qin Fen and the others filed out, looking up at the blinding sun.

As this was his second entry into the Holy Martial Hall, Qin Fen no longer enjoyed the privilege of using the Hall’s dedicated aircraft to enter specific target locations. Yang Lie and the others were deemed minor collateral and were also deposited onto the ground in Hawaii without further transport.

"Where do we find Zuo Lin? Where is Zuo Lin now? And where in the world is Morad?"

The group exchanged glances, seeing the same confusion reflected in each other's eyes.

Whether it was Yang Lie or Solomon, they had always relied on the support of their backing families. Whether for money or intelligence, they never needed to scramble for solutions. Any information they needed, a single phone call would suffice; anything the family database could locate would be relayed to them instantly.

For instance, Zuo Lin's likely location. They could simply wait in that vicinity, expecting to intercept Morad on his way to assassinate him.

Yang Lie forced a bitter smile. Solomon, whose poker face rarely shifted in a century, now also showed a hint of wryness. Once they truly rebelled against their families, they realized how little they could accomplish independently, apart from sheer martial prowess.

Caesar laughed—not a bitter laugh, but a genuinely happy one.

The others were heirs apparent or future pillars of their families, but he was different!

Caesar! The current true successor and helm of the Alexandrian family in Europe. While this title might last less than twenty more hours, at this very moment, he could still mobilize the entire Alexandrian family resources. Locating Zuo Lin's general whereabouts wouldn't be difficult.

At the very least, they could estimate the general possible locations. Furthermore, besides intelligence on Zuo Lin, they could search for news about Morad.

"Dear Family Head Caesar, are you contacting us now because you regret losing the vast Alexandrian family? Do you no longer wish to fight the family over that tiresome friendship?"

On the projection screen, Caesar’s aunt appeared eternally young. Her long, golden hair was elegantly piled high like that of a noblewoman, and the deep cleavage visible beneath her silk garment was especially striking as she leaned slightly forward.

"My dear nephew, my friendship is hardly tiresome. As for the Alexandrian family, I, Caesar, can afford the loss. In the future, I will become a Divine Beast Martial Artist. In the eyes of a Divine Beast Martial Artist, the Alexandrian family amounts to nothing. If you calculate accurately, it is the Alexandrian family that loses a direct descendant future Divine Beast Martial Artist, and several other potential Divine Beast Martial Artists, because of your foolish obsession with profit."

"Oh, hehe..." Caesar’s aunt raised a hand to cover her mouth, letting out a noble laugh. The mounds on her chest trembled with the sound. She lifted her chin slightly. "My dear nephew, when can Divine Beast Martial Artists be mass-produced? Since you haven't called to tell me you're backing down, may I ask why you contacted the family?"

"Divine Beasts cannot be mass-produced, but concentrated bursts of power can be generated." Caesar's arrogantly raised eyebrow, coupled with his confident demeanor, suddenly made him appear towering in his aunt's eyes. "I contact you now because I am still the Family Head, and I still possess the authority to command the family. Now, I order the family to immediately mobilize all resources to find the whereabouts of two individuals: Zuo Lin, and the West Asian soldier, Morad, a Fifteen-Star Martial Arts Master who once trained in the Holy Martial Hall and recently departed."

Caesar’s aunt’s beautiful red lips curved into a faint smile. "Very well, esteemed Family Head. We will notify you immediately once we find any news. Of course, that is predicated on you still being the head of the Alexandrian family by then."

Caesar suddenly realized he had committed a foolish act. Once the entire family knew he couldn't control them, those prioritizing profit would almost immediately side with his aunt. Although they couldn't openly defy the current Family Head's orders, delaying and deliberately working slowly was well within their power.

As for the current Family Head's punishments? Caesar smiled. In less than twenty hours, those decrees would become waste paper. Anyone punished might even receive promotions because of this punishment; the current punitive orders would become capital for their future advancement.

Qin Fen smiled wryly. Possessing immense martial power was now little better than being blind. Large organizations still served crucial functions. It was precisely for this reason that the Heavenly Gate and the Underworld on Saturn weren't just collections of martial experts; they fostered diverse talents, like the Nine Heavens Profound Maiden who guarded the base of Qilin Mountain for so long.

"The Dragon Hall might be a good option."

Qin Fen concentrated in thought. According to Ma Juntie's introduction, the Dragon Hall had developed extremely rapidly. Under Zhang Xiangyang’s leadership, it had evolved from a simple martial arts hub into a diversified center for talent aggregation.

Network hackers, financial experts, military specialists, and all sorts of talents were drawn to the Dragon Hall for various reasons.

A crisp telephone ring interrupted Qin Fen’s contemplation. The projected screen displayed a young soldier bearing the rank of Colonel—Colonel Zuo Lin, the rising star of the military!

Qin Fen looked at Zuo Lin on the projection, admitting that this senior, hailing from a reputable background and highly regarded by the military, looked particularly cheerful today, as if he had just encountered great fortune.

"Qin Fen, I wonder if you are still busy with your examinations?" Zuo Lin asked with a grinning look. "Not long ago, I received a gift. After careful consideration, I realized this gift is perhaps more suitable for you. Therefore, I have decided to transfer this gift. Are you perhaps interested?"

Zuo Lin spoke on, gently clapping his hands together. The camera slowly panned toward a corner of the adjacent room.

Morad! His body was covered in blood, estimated to have sustained dozens of knife wounds and blunt force trauma. His expression was defeated, his arms forcibly restrained behind him, and he was pinned to the ground, unable to move. His mottled, (vermilion) spear was stuck in the ground beside his neck.

The camera returned to Zuo Lin. He spread his hands slightly to the sides, his expression one of concerned confidence and pure delight. "Well, Colonel Qin Fen? Are you satisfied with this gift?"

Qin Fen stared at Zuo Lin silently and asked lightly, "Name your price."

Zuo Lin cracked his fingers and gave a thumbs-up, his brow lifted in the triumphant smile of a victor. "Smart, you know the score! Qin Fen, do you know? It's precisely because you're so 'on the ball' that I like you more and more."

Qin Fen's chest gently rose and fell as he slowly shook his head side to side, his face impassive. "I’m sorry, I don’t like you. Get to the point, what are the conditions?"

Zuo Lin rested his chin in his hands, observing Qin Fen closely through the screen. Negotiation was a deep art. He held only one piece of leverage, meaning he had only one real opportunity to name a price. If the other party immediately agreed to the price he named, it meant he had set it too low, and although he gained a benefit, the negotiation itself was a failure.

If the price was set too high and met with immediate, severe refusal, Zuo Lin felt that would undermine his calculations. This offer had to exceed Qin Fen’s acceptable bottom line, yet not cause him to refuse negotiation entirely and shatter the deal. He needed the opponent to talk back, to engage in haggling, so he could slowly probe the depths of the other’s bottom line and thus maximize his gain.

Negotiation was another form of combat. A master negotiator could completely subdue a defiant opponent at the table, turning the adversary into a subordinate, achieving the highest state of 'subduing the enemy without fighting.'

Where was Qin Fen's bottom line? Zuo Lin couldn't be entirely sure. Martial Artists at the Martial Arts Master level usually possessed pride and dignity. He could only use various methods to slowly wear him down, eventually forcing him into service! If he demanded immediate submission, Qin Fen would likely turn hostile and sacrifice Morad.

Would Morad be sacrificed? Zuo Lin felt a slight pang of bitterness. Morad had indeed come to assassinate him; under normal circumstances, simply killing Morad would suffice. But doing so would cause lingering resentment from Morad’s family, even if they outwardly said nothing.

The art of negotiation was to force the other party until they could retreat no further, then seal the deal. To continue pressing once the limits had been reached was foolish.

The families across the major regions had issued commands to their younger generations. This wasn't mere profit exchange; the immense benefits of Saturn forced them to choose a side, making them realize that straddling the fence, trying to please both sides, was idiotic.

The families of every region also knew Zuo Lin’s character well. They knew that if Zuo Lin, holding absolute superiority, won, he would certainly settle scores on Saturn, potentially cutting off vital interests with a simple chokehold.

Killing Morad might genuinely infringe upon the interests of the West Asian Morad family. Smart people do not casually create unnecessary enemies.

As for Qin Fen? Zuo Lin had never regarded him as a true opponent; Qin Fen was merely a wild horse with immense spirit, difficult to tame.

Once the wild horse is tamed, it naturally becomes the best subordinate, the strongest support.

Qin Fen remained expressionless, while Zuo Lin frowned deeply, unable to penetrate the mindset of this young Martial Arts Master. Everything he had calculated before initiating the communication seemed suddenly impossible to execute. His mind raced through various calculations, finally extending a single finger, wearing an expression of assured control. "If you want Morad to live, you must withdraw from the military's Saturn election bid."

"Done!"

Qin Fen stared at Zuo Lin, his reply devoid of the slightest hesitation. The speed of his answer stunned Zuo Lin. Morad, visible in the corner of the projection, lying on the ground, showed a flicker of distraction, and even the Martial Arts Master suppressing him had a look of disbelief on his face.

This answer was too unexpected; the response was too swift. The Martial Arts Master restraining Morad even suspected Qin Fen might be lying, yet his determined, iron-hard gaze clearly signaled that his word was absolute.

Zuo Lin felt his jaw slacken slightly; he almost stammered as he watched Qin Fen. This condition had been chosen after careful deliberation.

Zuo Lin was certain Qin Fen, as a Martial Arts Master, understood the immense value of Saturn’s interests. He hadn't genuinely expected Qin Fen to accept this condition.

Zuo Lin had considered this deeply. A young Martial Arts Master like Morad held considerable value, but compared to the interests of Saturn, it was far, far too little!

Standing in the same position, Zuo Lin believed his judgment would have led him to the same immediate, unwavering response as Qin Fen, though his answer would have been the opposite.

Zuo Lin hadn't intended for Qin Fen to accept the condition; he merely wanted to use it as a foundation for negotiation. Even if Qin Fen ultimately didn't forfeit the claim to Saturn, Zuo Lin could still leverage it to demand greater benefits in other areas.

Of course, the reason Zuo Lin had Morad present during the call was precisely to hear Qin Fen’s unequivocal refusal, intending to shatter Morad’s faith in him. At that moment of despair, Zuo Lin could employ other tactics to bring Morad under his wing.

Morad, a young Martial Arts Master! Just that fact made him valuable. Utilizing Qin Fen's perceived rejection to induce despair and heartbreak in Morad would be when his spirit was most vulnerable—like a drowning man grabbing desperately at a single straw in a deep river, pledging absolute loyalty thereafter!

Morad wasn't just an individual. Zuo Lin believed that by bringing Morad into his fold, he wouldn't truly be defying his family. A Martial Arts Master admitting fault and returning to the family would be warmly welcomed.

Zuo Lin had already planned Morad’s future trajectory: nurturing him, allowing him to eventually inherit the Morad family. Then, this West Asian Morad family would effectively become his vassal, a bond far stronger than any alliance based purely on profit.

Zuo Lin looked at Qin Fen in bewilderment. All his calculations had accounted for leveraging the refusal to win over Morad first, then using the resulting momentum to gain a stronger negotiating position, paving the way to eventually bring Qin Fen under control.

But... Zuo Lin felt the current answer was absurd. He almost wanted to laugh, but the smile muscles wouldn't obey, because the answer wasn't funny at all! Although the negotiation yielded massive benefits, Qin Fen's response had completely exceeded all predictions. Zuo Lin didn't know whether to call him impulsive or brainless.

Zuo Lin suddenly felt angry. He hated the sensation of having the entire situation, even the future, under control, only to have it utterly ruined by someone else. He hated that the plan to win over Morad had unexpectedly spiraled into this mess. He especially hated Qin Fen’s way of thinking, which completely disregarded the maximization of profit.

If their positions were reversed, Zuo Lin was certain that after refusing, he would deliver a long, passionate speech filled with righteous fervor to move the captured Morad, making Morad view him as a heroic figure making great endeavors!

Zuo Lin had even calculated for this contingency: if Qin Fen refused and made a grand, emotionally charged declaration to indirectly explain himself to Morad, Zuo Lin would unleash his pre-prepared counter-argument, making Qin Fen look even worse and causing the family scions beside Qin Fen to feel disillusioned.

However, Qin Fen’s answer was too unorthodox! Anyone capable of calculating profit should know that refusing now was the smartest move for maximizing gain.

Not even a second of hesitation! Zuo Lin thought, if only he had hesitated for three to five seconds, he would have been confident in using his unmatched eloquence to instill antipathy toward Qin Fen in Morad. Even if he couldn't immediately recruit Morad, he could at least plant a seed of doubt.

Qin Fen coldly watched the fleeting shock in Zuo Lin's eyes, then shifted his gaze back to the wounded, restrained Morad, finally stating plainly, "Release him."

Release him? Zuo Lin's brows furrowed. It seemed the condition he just offered was incorrect. Qin Fen's baseline was unexpectedly high. If he continued to press for conditions now, he should still be able to extract more profit, but...

Zuo Lin hesitated, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk. As a superior, one often had to stand by one’s word, especially if the goal was to recruit Qin Fen. Lacking even this measure of integrity now would mean that even if Qin Fen eventually submitted, he would likely only deliver half-hearted effort, defeating Zuo Lin's original purpose.

Releasing him immediately? Zuo Lin was deeply reluctant. Although he was confident he could eventually bring Qin Fen under his banner, this current opportunity was exceptionally rare. By simply continuing to state conditions, there was a one hundred percent chance of expanding the benefits. The only downside was looking somewhat like a reneger.

Zuo Lin knew perfectly well that no one present was a fool; anyone could tell the previous arrangement had already been unfair to Qin Fen, and everyone recognized that the condition just mentioned was unequivocally an exchange for Morade. If he added any more conditions, they would all see him as reneging on the deal.

“Ahem… ahem…”

Zuo Lin raised his hand, brought his fist to his lips, and gave a small, dry cough to disguise his attempt to gain an unfair advantage. He lowered his voice slightly as he spoke, “Very well, then we can discuss the second condition.”

PA: I imagine everyone here is holding back a surge of frustration, yet at the same time, a burst of hot blood is spurting forth, right? I’m about to give everyone some room to release that energy. Before that, why not smash me with your monthly tickets now, to vent the wicked fire in your hearts, to release that surging passion.

As someone who has gone ‘scalper’ several times in the past, I, Rong Luo, am truly moved by your enthusiasm. Yesterday, our peak monthly ticket ranking hit twelve; we were just shy of breaking into the top ten.

Please grant me just a little more strength, friends. It’s so close! Right now, during the double monthly ticket period, one ticket counts as two, so it should be easy to climb higher. Whichever friend still has monthly tickets left, throw them my way! Yesterday, I published over a hundred thousand characters. Today, I will certainly be around that same figure! The story has reached a truly explosive point for me, and I feel intensely pumped. There’s no need to worry about me losing control or making mistakes. You all get pumped up too!