People often say: A hundredfold effort lost early on means nothing for the future but burdening others.

In this world, every person and every endeavor requires effort to achieve success. Only when you stand on the path of success will you look back and recall the effort of that day, the struggle of that year. Even if you were to sweep the ages with your fame, yet never grasp the true essence of hard work, then you are, at best, a nouveau riche, and at worst, a wasteful fool capable only of wanton squandering.

“Heh heh, City A. I never thought I’d step onto this ground again. Perhaps this very land will change because of my arrival.” A certain youth stood at the very center of City A’s urban district. His delicate, somewhat handsome face wore a smile, and a trace of sinister peculiarity flickered at the corner of his mouth.

Behind this youth stood two figures: one was a slightly plump but naturally appearing young man, and the other was a girl with a perpetually cold expression, yet possessing devastating beauty, a figure so full and flawless it immediately inspired wanton thoughts.

“Dragon Lord, are you truly determined to do this?” the girl inquired, her voice sounding rather detached.

“Mmm-hmm. Yanran, don’t you think that question is a bit superfluous? What I decide will not change. Besides, didn’t I tell you? Don’t call me Dragon Lord; call me Young Master.” The youth turned around, his gaze sweeping pointedly over the curving, tempting, and criminally alluring slopes of her formidable figure, his look distinctly provocative as he addressed her.

Indeed, this youth was Yang Yi. He had emerged from the Cave of the Dead, his cultivation vastly increased. When challenging the Ten Army Generals, he hadn't needed to use his full strength to subdue them all, rightfully ascending to the position of Dragon Lord of the Black God Gang, thus taking command of the entire organization's destiny.

Feng Shi was the most beautiful among the Ten Army Generals, and the only one who had caught Yang Yi’s eye thus far. However, it was doubtful that she was the only one who had piqued his interest.

He had renamed her Yanran. A week prior, the Ten Army Generals had received the challenge from the new Dragon Lord. He was so arrogant, so wild, so utterly roguish. Among the ten generals, he had become infatuated with her. Yet, when his infatuation manifested, the icy façade she had maintained was shattered, and for some inexplicable reason, a trace of shyness bloomed in her heart.

His arrogance seemed to conquer her as well. Single-handedly, he had beaten the Ten Army Generals until they were completely defenseless; his strength was unfathomable. These were the thoughts occupying Feng Shi—now called Yanran—at this moment.

“Brother Yi, time is running short. Shouldn’t we hurry? We might not have enough time later,” said the other youth. There was no need to elaborate on who this was; it was Fatty Lin.

“En!” Yang Yi responded, stepping up to Yanran. He smiled wickedly, then suddenly, with a very provocative gesture, used one hand to cup her chin. Yanran’s face flushed, and her heart leaped wildly.

Fatty Lin watched from the side, momentarily stunned. He thought, ‘It’s a real waste of talent for Brother Yi not to become an Oscar-winning actor.’

Yang Yi gave a casual smile. In truth, he was truly impressed with himself for having the nerve to pull off such a move. He leaned close to her ear and breathed a warm puff of air; “Baby, I really want to devour you, but I want you to give it to me willingly. I will wait for that day.”

“Hmph!” Yanran chided him, quickly pushing him away. She feared she would instantly fall under his spell. Her heart was a mixture of urgency and frantic beating—her fate hung by a thread. She realized he was utterly depraved, yet his depravity possessed a noble air. It seemed she could fall into his clutches at any moment. Thinking of this, Yanran’s face involuntarily reddened, and then her mind drifted off into unknown contemplation...

“Heh heh, Fatty, let’s go!” Yang Yi announced. With a soft pop, he pressed a kiss onto Yanran’s slightly bashful lips, followed by an evil, charming smile, and then turned to leave.

“Holy crap, Brother Yi is damn awesome!” Fatty Lin muttered to himself, yet simultaneously felt a pang of longing. He sighed dejectedly, thinking, ‘Damn it, I need to find a woman too!’

“That stinking hooligan, always taking advantage of me,” Yanran murmured, watching the receding figure, her face crimson, yet adorned with a playful pout. But deep down, a strange anticipation seemed to be taking root.

“Yanran, all matters concerning City A are now entrusted to you. Notify me immediately if there is any news,” Yang Yi called out as he walked away.

Yanran gave him a resigned glance. It was impossible to tell if she was still smiling as she turned and departed.

Yang Yi fell silent, his thoughts unseen. Since taking over the Black God Gang a week ago, he had grasped the majority of their operations and current standing. However, he still didn’t fully understand City A; the waters here were notoriously deep.

The complexities of the factions, their powerful backers—how many people and how many secrets were entangled within? Perhaps this would reveal itself slowly. But for the present, the Black God Gang could not afford to surface. The game of unwritten rules had to be obeyed; that was Yang Yi’s sole current objective.

There was one other thing: he had already enrolled in City A’s most famous school. He desired refinement. Yes, both by capital and by choice, he aimed to be an outstanding ruffian, to become the monarch of hooligans, the overlord of the underworld. The reason he aspired to be the monarch of ruffians stemmed from a quote he deeply admired.

A beauty once said: If I do not descend into hell, who will? If I do not become the ruffian, who will?

Changed, truly changed. Yang Yi himself admitted he had transformed completely. Perhaps this change was right. Gone were the petty tactics of a lecherous punk or a petty thug; now he was perfect, outstanding—a ruffian with breeding, taste, and cunning. Moving from covert acts to open ones—wasn't this a form of enjoyment? Perhaps this was the true pleasure of being a scoundrel.

Meanwhile, at another location, an old man sat on stone steps deep within a mountain, pouring and sipping tea by himself, as if enjoying the solitude, or perhaps finally laying down the burdens of his life.

Suddenly, another old man approached. This newcomer possessed a somewhat immortal and transcendent air, yet he radiated an undeniable aura of supreme authority.

“Old Yang, why are you so morose, enjoying this solitude all by yourself?” The visitor's words carried an ambiguous meaning, sounding slightly complaining, yet also laced with the joy of seeing an old friend after a long time.

“Old Qin, what brings you to my humble spot today?” The old man addressed as Old Yang was, in fact, Yang Yi’s grandfather, Elder Yang.

“Alas... I just missed an old friend, so I came to check on you!” The old man named Old Qin was extremely mysterious; his true identity was formidable. He was the Vice Premier of the nation of Huaxia, the Prime Minister of the State Council’s Premier’s Court, Qin Yang—his status was so lofty it was beyond reach.

“Stop flattering yourself. Come on, what is it you really need?” Elder Yang chuckled and admonished him.

“Hehe, isn’t it about your heir?” Qin Yang laughed heartily, seemingly unbothered by Elder Yang’s casual tone.

“What? Did he offend you?” Elder Yang asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hardly. I’d be scared to offend him,” Qin Yang replied calmly, though internally he mused, Long ago, I dared not offend you; how could I dare offend your precious heir?

In earlier times, Qin Yang had been Elder Yang’s rival. They were once evenly matched adversaries in strategy. Perhaps because of this, a chance encounter had brought them together, forging them into exceptionally close friends. It is rare to move from opposition to becoming confidantes.

“Then why?” Elder Yang’s lips curved upward.

“I wanted to ask, are you really planning to withdraw just like that?” Qin Yang inquired.

“Sigh—Old Qin, I won’t hide it from you. We are old now. The rest must be left to the young ones. Moreover, I firmly believe he will eventually reach that level,” Elder Yang spoke, gazing up at the sky.

“Perhaps so,” Qin Yang replied with a smile.

“Why? Your tone suggests you don’t quite believe it?” Elder Yang probed.

“No, I’m just a little worried. Once your heir makes his move, if a real confrontation erupts, I fear my office will be extremely busy!” Qin Yang said playfully.

“Hehe, looks like you think quite highly of him,” Elder Yang knew his old friend had already given him a definite answer: he would support the boy. After all, in any nation, there must be both light and shadow. To manage the country properly, to ensure the people live well, someone must unify the dark elements. Only then can the nation maintain a functional cycle.

“Old Yang, all I can do is assist to the best of my ability!”

“Old Qin, please accept my thanks on behalf of that brat,” Elder Yang said seriously.

“Nonsense, are you going to be formal with me, old fellow?” Qin Yang teased back.

“Hahaha! Hahaha!” The two elders exchanged a look and burst into hearty laughter.

[Posting today’s update a little early. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll post the next chapter. For now, two chapters daily. I hope all you brothers will support your little author, give lots of recommendations and favorites, and help promote this book so more people read it. Thank you very much. May millions of beauties come to court you every day! Brothers, stand strong! As men, we must stand firm and sweep aside everything with our unyielding bodies... Hehe, you guys can imagine the last two words however you like, hee hee! Stand strong!]