The London night, particularly in Chinatown, pulsed with a vibrant intensity where the lines between Chinese and British blurred, erasing divisions of ethnicity and nationhood. Here, neither the Mafia nor the highest echelons of the British aristocracy held sway. One might assume that a place outside conventional jurisdiction would devolve into chaos—brawls, robberies, drug trade—but to think so would be a grave error.

Compared to mainland China or even the United States, this Chinatown was infinitely more complex. Legend held that it was the sanctuary for the world's most formidable figures: the godfathers whose shadow could dictate the fate of nations, the masterminds behind continent-shaking conspiracies, the most wanted criminals from major powers, and other such luminaries. While their daily lives here were conspicuously quiet, any disturbance or violation of the established code resulted in the perpetrator's mysterious disappearance.

Yet, Yang Yi was an anomaly, a deviation from the established order. No one knew how he became the master of Chinatown, nor why the titans lurking in the shadows had accepted him. Even Yang Yi himself remained ignorant of the reasons.

“Big Brother, is there anything you need me to do?” Lilith asked as she walked out of the headquarters of the local Mafia faction beside Yang Yi.

“Yes, I need you to take me to meet them. Because there has always been one question I desperately want answered.” In truth, Yang Yi hadn’t come to Britain seeking material gain, but a persistent query gnawed at him. If they could resolve this secret, any unexpected rewards that followed would be inevitable.

“Alright, I will take you to them. Though, I can’t guarantee they will agree to see you,” Lilith replied with a slight smile.

“Heh, they will see me. If they weren’t willing, they wouldn't have allowed me to see you when I first came looking for you.”

“Mmm, then Big Brother, please follow me.”

It was clear that Lilith’s long tenure in Chinatown was predicated on secrets she dared not reveal. Yang Yi’s agreement to help her reclaim the throne that was rightfully hers stemmed entirely from this hidden knowledge. As noted before, one should never underestimate this girl; anyone fooled by her outward appearance would surely meet their misfortune.

"Wise beyond her years!" That was Yang Yi’s immediate impression upon meeting Merian Lilith.

Feng Shi glanced at Yang Yi and followed the pair as they traversed Chinatown from one end to the other, finally stopping before a dilapidated, small bar. Lilith finally spoke, “They are all inside. I’ll go in first to notify them. If they wish to see you, you may enter. If they do not, then perhaps…”

“I understand. Go ahead and notify them.” Yang Yi nodded with a calm smile, an inscrutable light flickering in his eyes.

Feng Shi, tense and maintaining an exceedingly grave expression, asked in disbelief, “Young Master, the aura here is incredibly potent!”

“Indeed. If it weren't strong, I wouldn’t have needed to come here.” Yang Yi’s face remained impassive, but inside, a flicker of anticipation ignited. He had long sought a genuine trump card—not the Xuanmen sect, not the Japanese underworld or the Miyamoto family, and certainly not the entire Black God Syndicate. With this true Ace in hand, Yang Yi would no longer need to fear the formidable heir of the Ye family.

“Young man, I heard Lilith say you wish to see us. Since you are at the door, please come in. However, you must come alone.” The voice was laced with a subtle, melodious inner strength, sounding thoroughly peaceable and bold, yet only Yang Yi perceived it.

“Thank you, Seniors!” Yang Yi suddenly bowed with formal politeness, making Feng Shi’s eyes widen in astonishment.

“Yanran, wait for me here for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

“Young Master!”

“Don’t worry. I will be fine.”

“Mmm!” Though perplexed, Feng Shi chose to trust Yang Yi.

Recent events had unfolded with baffling strangeness. No one knew what intricate game Yang Yi was playing, what his ultimate goal was, or who exactly he was about to meet. Even more mystifying was the pervasive sense that all of this felt orchestrated by fate. Yet, it was undeniable that the situation was far more complex than it appeared. (Author’s Note: This section sets up the major foreshadowing carried over from Volume Two. Exciting developments are imminent. Thank you for your support.)

“Big Brother!” Lilith saw Yang Yi, her smile dazzlingly bright, yet the strange light flickering in her eyes betrayed the innocence she usually wore.

“Lilith, from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were not simple. I never imagined you would be beyond mere description.” Yang Yi watched as Lilith playfully tugged at an old man’s beard while leaning behind him, realizing he had underestimated the sixteen-year-old princess.

“Young man, Lilith mentioned you have questions for us. Ask away.”

“Haha, well done. The student cultivated by Yang Yitian is indeed exceptional.”

“No wonder our Leader holds such high expectations for him. He is quite promising,” various figures in the bar chimed in, offering Yang Yi wry, insincere smiles before he could even speak.

“Seniors, this junior pays his respects,” Yang Yi said, foregoing any pretense, bowing with genuine seriousness.

And just like that, with Yang Yi’s simple declaration, everything began. ############################################

“Young Master?” Feng Shi rushed forward to meet Yang Yi as he emerged from the doorway of the bar.

“Mmm, let’s go back,” Yang Yi nodded with a gentle smile.

“Uh, what about… Lilith?”

“Her? Don’t worry about her. We only need to handle our own affairs. Others will take care of the rest,” Yang Yi stated cryptically before taking Feng Shi’s hand and walking away.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Roth and Rhys sat on the sofas in a grand hall after returning from Chinatown. They had intended to discuss the afternoon’s matters but were interrupted by unexpected news—a piece of information that instantly derailed all their previous thoughts.

“Lord Roth, do you truly believe the Black God Syndicate’s Dragon Lord intends to attack the Mafia?” Rhys asked with deep gravity, having completely dismissed that possibility upon hearing the intelligence.

“Isn’t it obvious? Their goal is to manipulate the King into issuing this very command against us,” Roth replied, a hint of vexation in his tone. He had envisioned his plan unfolding meticulously, but an unforeseen flaw had surfaced.

In reality, the news they received originated from an order issued by John. John had somehow obtained information suggesting the Black God Syndicate planned an assault on the Mafia, using the fallen princess as leverage, and then, leveraging the Mafia’s power, to challenge the Roman Royal Family—with the ultimate aim of seizing his own throne. This was John’s paranoid interpretation. Consequently, he had issued an immediate directive: the highest authority of the British Royal Family must immediately cooperate with the Mafia to launch an offensive against the Black God Syndicate.

“But the King has already issued the order. If we refuse to comply,” Rhys said, acutely aware of his King’s temper. If he disobeyed, the consequences wouldn't land on Roth; all blame would fall squarely on Rhys’s shoulders—a reality Rhys clearly foresaw.

Roth knew exactly what Rhys was thinking, but he couldn't devise an immediate alternative. “The order must be executed.”

“But!”

“There are no ‘buts,’ Lord Rhys. You must understand clearly. Even if our King has walked into a trap, he will tolerate no threat to his crown.”

“Then it seems we have no choice but to proceed,” Rhys conceded, helpless. He immediately called out, “Guard!”

“What are your orders, Lord?”

“Immediately dispatch men to the Mafia headquarters. Inform them that I will meet with Ace Linde tomorrow.”

“YES!”

“I find this whole situation rather peculiar,” Roth murmured, furrowing his brow.

Having left the bar at the end of Chinatown, Yang Yi arrived back at the main thoroughfare. He didn't leave immediately nor did he start any new action. He simply stood by the riverbank, watching the reflection of the water lights. Before meeting those figures, he had been filled with confusion, but after meeting them, that confusion had deepened considerably.

“Who exactly is their leader? And why would they help me without condition? Ah well, I’ll worry about that later. I’ll know what I need to know when the time comes. In any case, the purpose of coming to Britain has been achieved. With them, I now possess the standing and strength required to play this game with him,” Yang Yi mused silently, the faint smile on his lips growing increasingly sinister.

“Young Master, they have arrived,” Feng Shi said, guiding four or five burly men behind Yang Yi.

“Mmm?” As Yang Yi turned, the men immediately dropped to one knee, proclaiming, “We greet the Dragon Lord!”

“Rise.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Immediately gather some experts and dispatch them to the Roman Royal Family’s location. Await my command,” Yang Yi instructed.

“As you command!”

“Go.”

“Young Master, I have already instructed Simark regarding that matter you mentioned.”

“Excellent.” Yang Yi smiled faintly upon hearing this. “The London night is truly beautiful. I wonder how long this beauty will last.”