At this moment within the Sixty-Direction Tower, Miyamoto Taro was precisely as Yang Yi had described. An expression of burning anxiety and unease was clearly visible upon his face.

"Master, what should we do now? The outside forces will likely breach our defenses any moment!" the middle-aged man in black inquired.

A flicker of coldness crossed Miyamoto Taro's eyes, his expression unreadable. "All our men have already been dispatched. What else can we possibly do?"

"Clang!"

The middle-aged man's heart sank; he understood the grim implication of Miyamoto Taro's words. Now, whether it was the Black Dragon Society of R-Nation, the assassination squad, or even the supposedly peerless Shadow Ninjas—all had retreated. What remained were only the people inside this tower. But how many would truly remain here?

Miyamoto Taro fell silent. He sat back into the sofa, pulled out what appeared to be an ancient cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. He closed his eyes slightly, a moment of sudden, profound calm washing over him. Meanwhile, the Chinese man remained standing silently behind Miyamoto Taro, still emitting that faint, chilling aura.

"Master, this time we have already..."

"Yes... we have failed," Miyamoto Taro finished for him, a sliver of cold laughter touching his lips.

"Then, Master, perhaps we should retreat first. We can slowly rebuild our strength in the future!"

"Hmph, do you truly believe we can rebuild?" Miyamoto Taro had grown utterly cold.

The forces currently under his command had already been substantially dismantled. Even if the remaining members of the Black Dragon Society, the Shadow Ninjas, and the assassination squad outside hadn't been entirely eradicated, the tide of the battle had clearly turned against him. To make any further futile gestures would merely be a waste of effort. Thus, the only thing Miyamoto Taro could do now was wait—wait for the person responsible for maneuvering the situation into this state. As for what would happen next, that remained deeply uncertain.

"Lord Leader, our men have all withdrawn," the man in the suit reported to Kudo Taiichi.

Kudo Taiichi’s face was grim, his eyes narrowed. "How many have returned?"

"Of the five thousand members, less than two thousand are accounted for." The man in the suit visibly shivered; he felt their side had suffered a terrible loss in this engagement.

No... to be precise, the loss was catastrophic, feeling akin to a lamb being driven straight into the tiger's maw.

"Baka!" Kudo Taiichi roared, flinging the binoculars he held. They tumbled pitifully into a distant corner. A sense of despair shadowed his face. The Yamaguchi-gumi had suffered devastating casualties in tonight's battle. Yet, it seemed these events had unfolded almost before he could process them. Even the renowned godfather of R-Nation’s underworld appeared utterly insignificant at this moment.

However, what happened next plunged his heart into a profound sense of powerlessness. His telephone began to ring. Kudo Taiichi took a deep breath, steadying himself, retrieved the phone, and pressed the answer key, only to be met with news that struck like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.

"Crack!" The phone slipped from Kudo Taiichi's grasp. His expression instantly turned ashen, his entire body seeming to sway precariously.

"Lord Leader!" The man in the suit snapped to attention, rushing forward to steady him. "Lord Leader, are you alright?"

"It's over... I never realized I was being utterly manipulated," Kudo Taiichi gasped, already succumbing to an overwhelming sense of defeat, his mind growing hazy.

Simultaneously, at the Yamaguchi-gumi headquarters.

Feng Shi stood on the main hall floor, surveying the surroundings. A cold, captivating smile curved her crimson lips. She pulled out her phone and made a call. "Young Master, we have gained complete control of the Yamaguchi-gumi headquarters. Awaiting your instruction!"

"Good. Very good!" Yang Yi’s voice came through the receiver. He continued, "You must secure the area well and wait for..."

Feng Shi responded to Yang Yi’s commands with submissive deference, but when she heard the final, crucial directive, a chilling killing intent surfaced in her tone. "Yes, Young Master! I understand."

"En!" Yang Yi ended the call and turned to Miyamoto Sakurako beside him, asking, "Have the Yamaguchi-gumi forces been completely cleared out?"

"Yes! All Yamaguchi-gumi personnel have withdrawn. Everyone remaining is ours, and we have completely surrounded the Sixty-Direction area," Miyamoto Sakurako confirmed.

"Excellent... Let's go! It's time to meet that ambitious schemer," Yang Yi said with a slight smile. He glanced at Murong Lianxue beside him and asked, "Lianxue, did you sense that strange energy long ago, which is why you've seemed so quiet and troubled?"

"Yi Gege?" Murong Lianxue called out, a hint of panic flashing across her small face.

Yang Yi bent down, gently stroking the crown of her cute little head with indulgent affection. He said softly, "Silly sister, you must remember, you are the sister Yi Gege cherishes most in this world. Therefore, your concerns are Yi Gege's concerns. Don't try to carry everything on your own shoulders, do you understand?"

"En!" Murong Lianxue replied, a faint moisture welling in her eyes.

"Alright. Let's go in!" Yang Yi stood up, taking Murong Lianxue's small hand, and led the group towards the Sixty-Direction Tower.

"Gulp!"

"What's wrong?" Miyamoto Taro suddenly noticed something amiss with the Chinese man and couldn't help but frown in inquiry.

"..." The Chinese man said nothing, merely shaking his perpetually lowered head.

"Master..." the middle-aged man in black suddenly called out.

Miyamoto Taro turned his head towards the inner doorway. He saw a young man leading a small girl, followed by a large retinue, walking toward them. In that instant, Miyamoto Taro’s gaze sharpened, his eyes locking onto the young man leading the procession.

The arrivals were none other than Yang Yi. He had finally seen the ambitious mastermind whose ambition had once inspired a sense of futility in him, but now seemed to be crumbling under his own pressure. Yet, noticing Murong Lianxue trembling slightly beside him, he glanced at her, then followed her line of sight to the Chinese man standing there in the black suit, his hair slightly disheveled. Miyamoto Taro frowned, muttering internally, "So strong!"

"You are Yang Yi of the Black God Gang, aren't you?" Miyamoto Taro asked, exhaling a plume of smoke in neat rings.

"And you are Miyamoto Taro, aren't you?" Yang Yi countered, not answering directly.

"Hmph—less talk, more action." Miyamoto Taro snorted coldly, harboring a deep-seated hatred for Yang Yi now. "I never expected to be defeated by your hands today!"

"Oh ho?" Yang Yi sneered. "So you admit defeat?"

"Twenty years ago, Yang Yitian fought me, but he still failed to take my life. I wonder if, twenty years later, his grandson possesses the strength to utterly crush me?"

It was true that Miyamoto Taro was not entirely without recourse; after all, he held a trump card in his heart—the Chinese man standing behind him.

"Heh heh, how can we know without trying?" Yang Yi chuckled lightly.

Miyamoto Taro stood up, crushing the cigarette in his hand, staring intensely at Yang Yi. Yang Yi showed no weakness, nor did he evade the gaze.

The two stared at each other until they both burst into laughter.

"Hah hah!" "Hah hah!"... Their laughter was utterly inexplicable.

Their laughter was chillingly cold.

Laughter, yet not laughter; no laughter was still laughter. The sound ceased. Two figures blurred instantly, "Swish!"

"Bang!" "Bang!"... They collided, and a wave of hot energy radiated outward. Miyamoto Taro stated coldly, "Not bad. By the measure of your Chinese martial arts, you have already reached the second stage of Yellow Rank Grandmaster."

"You aren't bad either. Although you are an Azure Rank Grandmaster, it seems you lack any real power!" Yang Yi scoffed, though his heart was intensely vigilant. He suspected this night's fight would be a bitter one.

"I haven't even used my full strength, and you are already this arrogant? Truly worthy of being Yang Yitian's grandson."

"Heh heh, is that so!"

"Hiss! Hiss!"... A strange friction sound emanated continuously between their clasped hands. Miyamoto Taro’s expression grew heavy. Although he held the rank of Azure Grandmaster and hadn't exerted his full power, the fact that Yang Yi, merely a Yellow Rank Grandmaster, could withstand his attacks was certainly cause for concern.

What he didn't know was that Yang Yi was already employing eighty percent of his strength. Even though he hadn't reached his absolute limit, Yang Yi was already feeling the strain. If it weren't for the sixty years of built-up internal power supporting him, Yang Yi likely couldn't have endured even one of his punches.

"Bang!" As if by silent agreement, both struck out with a punch. After the impact, they both retreated several large steps, widening the distance.

Miyamoto Taro leaped back, returning to the sofa and sitting down. He said, "You are indeed exceptional. Among the younger generation, you stand out as a top talent."

"I can take that as sarcasm!" Yang Yi replied, appearing somewhat dismissive.