"Good heavens, could these toughs have taken a liking to my Black God Guard?" Yang Yi shuddered, glancing at the thugs with a muttered thought.

Those men would probably choke on their own frustration if they heard that. What they felt was sheer excitement—a kind of worshipful impulse triggered by seeing true power on display, which ignited a spark in their eyes. This, Yang Yi conceded, proved they were true men, straightforward unlike the gang members who had already sided with Zhao Qing.

"What do we do now? I suspect the ranks below are already compromised. Zhou Hu, Zhou Hu, this move of yours is truly ruthless." Zhao Qing was clearly an old hand in the underworld, specifically the Chinese underground. Since Yang Yi was here, it meant the men below were already his people. This suggested Zhou Hu brought him here with the sole intention of eliminating him and absorbing the Triad completely into the Black God Gang, a complete betrayal of the Black Dragon Society.

Staring at Zhou Hu with icy intent, Yang Yi considered making a move, but was preempted by his own sharp command: "Who's there? Get out here for me!"

Swish! The Black God Guards glared, then raised their machine guns, every nerve taut, breathing steady, as if scenting the air.

Behind Yang Yi, Feng Shi and Han Zhong, along with the five of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits, were already scanning the surroundings.

"Hahahaha!" Zhao Qing suddenly burst into laughter. He was familiar with this turmoil, familiar with this technique—Ninjas, the emblem of his nation.

"Hahahaha!" Yang Yi laughed along, watching Zhao Qing with distinct interest.

Hearing Yang Yi laugh, Zhao Qing snorted coldly. "Hmph, what are you laughing at!"

"And what are you laughing at?" Yang Yi countered.

"I laugh at your stupidity. I must admit your men are strong—unfortunately, just a little stronger than ordinary people. But my Shadows are different, hah!" As Zhao Qing spoke, he erupted into another peal of laughter.

"Shadows?" Yang Yi mused inwardly, his face fixed in a smile. He turned to one of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits. "Lend me your dagger for a moment."

"Yes, Dragon Lord!" The Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirit respectfully handed over his dagger.

"You want to know what I'm laughing at, don't you? Let me tell you then!" As soon as the words left Yang Yi's mouth, he applied slight pressure, then casually threw the blade. The dagger shot out like a miniature throwing knife, flashing a cold glint, carving a perfect arc before a strange swoosh— sound cut through the air.

Hiss—hiss!

Oh—thump! A figure near the long table, coming from the direction of the doorway, suddenly collapsed. A man dressed in black cloth, his face masked, clutching his heart where the dagger had struck, simply slumped to the ground.

"Let me tell you, I laugh because you are utterly idiotic. Do you even know what place this is? How dare you little Japanese run rampant in my glorious China?" Yang Yi’s eyes flared as he finished speaking to Zhao Qing, immediately issuing an order: "Take out the other nine Ninjas! Anyone who refuses to join my Black God Gang will be executed without mercy!"

"Yes!" Feng Shi, the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits, and the Black God Guards moved without hesitation.

Tatata! The machine-gunners of the Black God Guard opened fire into the air in a frenzy.

Meanwhile, Feng Shi, the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits, and Han Zhong moved with phantom-like speed toward Zhao Qing and his group.

"Baka! Get them!" Zhao Qing seemed past caring about subtlety. Seeing the enemy closing in for his life, he roared.

Zhou Hu staggered back a few steps, watching these figures with stunned awe. His heart was trembling. He had navigated the underworld for years, but had never witnessed such a formidable force capable of such spectral movement. Though he knew a little about martial arts and combat, it was clear he was not in the same league as these men.

"Hmph, Baka, even Gaba shows up. You are shameless! You should know this is China, not your trashy little Island Nation!" Yang Yi sneered, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Zhao Qing.

But Yang Yi's words enraged Zhao Qing. His face flushed crimson, his body beginning to tremble. His eyes were locked on Yang Yi closing in. Internally, Zhao Qing was deeply shaken because he couldn't read Yang Yi. The aura Yang Yi emitted felt dangerous. From his physique and the moment he threw the dagger, Zhao Qing judged their strength to be comparable, yet an inexplicable, deep-seated sense of peril emanated from him.

Yang Yi, however, didn't know Zhao Qing's current thoughts. Yang Yi himself was exhilarated. Every time he encountered a master he couldn't fathom, it was like spotting a beautiful woman—one he could have without any strings attached—igniting an immediate desire to 'battle.'

Indeed, Zhao Qing was no simple character. The defensive and offensive posture he instinctively adopted was that of a master. Yang Yi knew the principle that 'all things are empty'; narrowing his eyes, a chilling aura spread from him, and his eyes seemed to turn crimson, stimulated by the scent of blood filling the conference room.

Whoosh—whoosh!

Thwack—! In an instant, Yang Yi lunged forward with a kick, immediately following it up with a low strike aiming for the groin. This attack was clearly intended to end Zhao Qing’s life; every strike was insidious, though perhaps fitting, considering the perceived lack of mercy for the Japanese.

But Zhao Qing proved his mettle. He blocked every line of attack, though it cost him, struggling slightly, yet managing to counterattack. And so, the two locked into combat.

Zhou Hu watched from the sidelines, his mind reeling. He had seen true Martial Arts Grandmasters fight, but never with such ferocity.

Three minutes. In just three minutes, the air in the conference room was thick with the stench of fresh blood. The ten Ninjas were mowed down by the Black God Guards’ machine gun fire—a rather pathetic end, considering they were Ninjas, masters of a technique that used a certain substance combined with their internal power to render themselves invisible.

Unfortunately for them, they were wrong. Their opponents were the Black God Guards, whose basic training emphasized superior sensory perception. Relying on scent and instinct alone, these lower-skilled Ninjas were simply wiped out by the sustained barrage.

On the other side, Feng Shi, Han Zhong, and the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits had dealt with the traitors in the blink of an eye. All that remained was for them to fix their attention firmly on Yang Yi and Zhao Qing.

Pfft! Zhao Qing coughed up a mouthful of blood, his face turning ashen. He still couldn't comprehend why his attacks caused him no harm, while every punch or kick he received from Yang Yi inflicted genuine pain.

He didn't know that Yang Yi had cultivated the Yi Jin Jing internal breath for eighteen years; ordinary attacks were useless against him. Furthermore, the trial in the Cave of the Dead had amplified the benefits of the Yi Jin Jing, making its mastery slow but its power immense—which explained why Yang Yi placed such high importance on it.

"I think you won't need to rush to lose your life just yet, will you?" Yang Yi stared at him, sneering internally. Though he was unharmed, the fight was frustratingly anticlimactic. This foe he couldn't see through was surprisingly fragile; after just a few of his blows, Zhao Qing was spitting blood.

"Hmph, kill me today if you dare, or you will face endless trouble!" Zhao Qing, unconcerned about his impending death, actually dared to provoke Yang Yi.

"Heh heh, rest assured! I will let you die comfortably—just not right now." Yang Yi said, then commanded the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits: "Lock him up. I still have use for him."

"—Yes—!"

"Alright, now you must give me your answer. Are you willing to submit to my Black God Gang?" Yang Yi wasted no more pleasantries; officially taking over the Triad meant he would be swamped with work.

"We are willing to follow you!" Those men, past worrying about elaborate thoughts, immediately agreed when Yang Yi asked.

Zhou Hu finally snapped out of his shock. He walked up to Yang Yi and knelt halfway, proclaiming, "I, Zhou Hu, am also willing to follow the Dragon Lord, subject to your command."

"Uh... get up. Why the grand gesture? I'm probably decades younger than you," Yang Yi said, taken aback, and quickly helped Zhou Hu rise.

"Dragon Lord, you deserve it." Zhou Hu’s expression was firm, as if he had resolved something important.

"Heh heh, from now on, we are all family. You don't need such elaborate courtesies. How about this: normally, you'll call me Young Master, and at other times, you can call me Dragon Lord," Yang Yi said with a smile.

"Yes, Dragon Lord." Zhou Hu acknowledged, then added, "Dragon Lord, do we need to begin the transition of all Black Gang affairs now? I also have all the Triad documentation prepared here. If you would follow me to the office first, we will handle the cleanup here."

"Good, no problem. Uncle Han, I leave this to you and Uncle Zhou," Yang Yi replied.

Hearing Yang Yi call him Uncle Zhou, Zhou Hu was overcome with emotion. Perhaps this was the essence of 'trust those you employ, and employ those you trust.'

"Yes, Dragon Lord!" Han Zhong confirmed.