America was touted as the freest place in the Federation, a place where you could stand before the White House and scream that the Governor was 'a fat pig,' and if the Governor decided to sue you for slander, as long as you wrote 'Pig is my favorite animal' on your shirt, there would be no issue at all.

However, this was also the most xenophobic place. Even in the space age, there remained a pervasive sense of racial discrimination; white people always held a higher status than black people, and black people often ranked above Asians.

It was difficult enough for Asians to gain a foothold here, and attempting to establish their own power base would inevitably invite countless challenges.

The Yang family of America, a force established by people of black hair and yellow skin, rooted itself in Washington, the political epicenter of the continent, where even the American White House and the State Capitol building stood.

Any family capable of establishing its headquarters in Washington commanded a degree of respect that could not be ignored. If someone could place their family's central command inside the Washington White House, that family’s strength demanded the utmost caution.

Yang Duzun, the Governor of America and the patriarch of the Yang family, had arrived in the States with his father and built this formidable influence with his own two hands. A few years prior, he successfully entered the political arena, leveraging his immense personal clout to become the current Governor of America.

The White House, as a result, had temporarily become the Yang family’s main operational base. Barring any major unforeseen events, it was likely to remain so for a long time to come.

As Yang Duzun’s term neared its end, his younger brother, Yang Dujing, announced his candidacy for Governor of America. The other contenders in the race were clearly individuals with negligible influence or power, meaning the next Governor of America was almost certainly destined to come from the Yang family as well.

Unlike most other clans, the Yang family practiced a system of absolute centralized authority; all power rested solely in Yang Duzun’s hands, and everyone else was expected only to follow orders.

In the Governor’s Office within the White House, Yang Dujing and Yang Duhong sat quietly on plush sofas. They were the only two members of the Yang family permitted to sit in the presence of Yang Duzun.

News concerning the Alexanders and the Solomon family in Europe, alongside matters involving the Alpha family, arrived one after another.

Yang Duzun’s expression was grim. Every time he heard of another family being absorbed, he would coldly curse them as 'useless trash.' Especially upon hearing the news of David Solomon’s death in battle, he spat out a harsh curse: 'A useless mad fool.'

Yang Dujing turned the page of the newspaper in his hand, mentally calculating the time. Those few individuals, sweeping through two European families like locusts before absorbing one in America, were reportedly heading towards Washington; how much longer until they arrived?

Yang Duhong sat with his eyes closed, practicing his Qi cultivation. The breathing maintained a perfect, unwavering ripple in the cup of clear tea before him, making it look more like a deliberately stilled piece of art.

Though the three brothers’ physiques varied—Yang Duzun broad-shouldered and slim-waisted in a tailored light-yellow silk martial robe; Yang Dujing somewhat diminutive, the complete opposite of the corpulent Yang Duhong—their facial features were remarkably similar. Whether fat Yang Duhong, thin Yang Dujing, or well-proportioned Yang Duzun, all three were strikingly handsome, their stature never detracting from their inherent good looks.

“Young Master, you’ve returned…”

A maid’s inquiry drifted in from the hallway outside the office door. Yang Duhong’s slightly closed eyes snapped open abruptly, a piercing light emanating from them that seemed to dim the electric lamps within the room.

Yang Dujing continued to read his newspaper, not looking up as the door slowly swung open.

The twin doors opened wide, and Qin Fen immediately sensed the three restrained, yet powerful and imposing auras within the room, the most dominant emanating from the figure behind the desk.

Yang Lie stood just outside the threshold, unwilling to step inside, his legs seemingly glued to the ground. His gaze held a reverent deference as he bowed slightly. “Father, I have returned.”

Yang Duzun signed his name on a document, looked up at Yang Lie and the others, and stated flatly, “Kill them, and then go to the Family Law Hall to receive one hundred strokes. I will forgive your insolence from last time.”

The office and the hallway outside fell into profound silence. Yang Lie’s brow furrowed deeply, his fists clenched so tightly his arms trembled slightly as he looked at Yang Duzun.

“Xiao Lie, did you not hear Big Brother?” Yang Duhong set down the half-finished tea, his eyes casually lifting toward Yang Lie. “Kill them, then receive the hundred strokes of family discipline. You are still Yang Lie.”

Xue Tian glanced at Qin Fen, noticing Caesar, standing beside him, shaking his head subtly, signaling Xue Tian to keep quiet for now.

Xue Tian shrugged and closed his mouth, which had been opening to speak. He understood Qin Fen’s meaning: every time Yang Lie faced or heard news of Yang Duzun, his body and emotions reacted severely—a significant, major issue.

Qin Fen had studied Yang Lie, this mixed-race martial arts prodigy. In terms of pure talent for martial arts, he was in no way inferior to Solomon’s natural gifts. Yet, whether during his blood renewal for true Xiantian status or when Qin Fen himself entered the Sacred Martial Hall to find them, Yang Lie was always the last to enter the top tier of the younger generation’s martial strength.

This was strange, profoundly abnormal! A heart demon! The moment Qin Fen saw Yang Duzun again, he finally understood: Yang Lie indeed had a heart demon, and that demon stemmed directly from his father, Yang Duzun. Yang Duzun’s very existence prevented Yang Lie from truly unleashing himself.

The Dragon! It can soar vast and mighty, or shrink small as a mud pellet, soaring above the nine heavens or diving into abyssal depths, existing purely by its own will.

Yang Lie practiced the Dragon Fist, and his martial path followed the Dao of the Dragon, yet because of Yang Duzun, he could not be free and unconstrained; how could this be a complete Dragon Dao?

Qin Fen knew that even if Yang Duzun were to have an accidental conflict with Yu Lin and ultimately be beaten to death by the Qilin, the heart demon within Yang Lie would not vanish with his father’s demise.

A heart demon cannot be broken by outside help; it must be overcome by Yang Lie himself.

Silence. Yang Lie remained silent, shaking his head slightly. Years of overwhelming pressure from Yang Duzun had made even speaking an agonizing effort.

Crack…

Yang Dujing casually tossed the newspaper onto the table, a hint of weary helplessness entering his eyes as he looked at Yang Lie. He slowly rose and sighed softly. “Xiao Lie, are you shaking your head to tell us you can’t kill all of them alone? That makes sense. These ill-mannered little things do possess decent martial prowess. It’s not something one person can eliminate entirely. Let Third Uncle help you out a bit.”

“Third Brother…” Yang Duzun’s long eyebrows drew closer together above his nose, making him resemble Yang Lie even more than before.