The second floor of the Mercenary Guild Hall was considerably quieter than the ground floor. Silver moonlight spilled down the long corridor as Yang Ying and his party ascended. Guided by the horse-faced alien, they walked to the end of the hall, stopping before a massive door nearly ten meters high.

Come to think of it, almost every door in the building was imposing; a ten-meter height was only slightly grander than average. Yang Ying surmised this design was likely to accommodate races naturally inclined to towering stature. While most intelligent lifeforms in the Orion Arm were roughly human-sized, those who were exceptionally tall or short were by no means uncommon.

As they approached, the great door slid open silently, revealing an exceptionally vast chamber beyond.

From the wall nearest them to the far wall, the room spanned at least fifty meters, and the side walls were separated by nearly forty. The interior decor was radically different from Earth, or indeed, any civilization Yang Ying was familiar with.

The room was sparse, an expanse of empty floor stretching out, save for a single desk positioned precisely on the centerline of the opposite wall. A long, crimson carpet unfurled from the desk to the doorway, perfectly bisecting the space into equal halves on the left and right.

“Well done, you may leave now,” the figure behind the desk instructed the horse-faced alien.

“Yes, Branch Head,” the alien saluted crisply and retreated backward.

“What rare guests we have. Please, come in and speak with me.”

The Branch Head smiled and gestured for Yang Ying to approach. He was slightly shorter than a standard human, his skin an impossibly pure, milky white, utterly devoid of hair, giving him a remarkably smooth appearance. His limbs were slender, yet his head was disproportionately large and perfectly spherical to the point of being reflective. His large, pitch-black eyes dominated his face like light bulbs, filling the entire socket with no visible white sclera—they resembled two pure black glass orbs.

As Yang Ying observed him, he walked forward. This Branch Head was a Garan!

Upon reaching the desk, two chairs materialized simultaneously: one large, clearly intended for Wulengas, and one smaller, perfectly sized for Yang Ying. As for 4T, his state of sitting or standing made no difference.

“Please, be seated,” the Branch Head offered, indicating the chairs.

After Yang Ying and Wulengas settled in, the Branch Head regarded Yang Ying and chuckled, “Commander Yang Ying, is this your first encounter with a Garan?”

“Indeed it is, Mr. Branch Head,” Yang Ying replied.

“We shall become quite familiar soon enough,” the Branch Head said, pointing to himself. “Let me introduce myself first. My name is Fales, Administrator of the Veda Branch of the Mercenary Guild. Most people call me Branch Head. Of course, Commander Yang Ying may simply call me Fales.”

“Very well, Mr. Fales,” Yang Ying returned the smile. “Since you’ve already uttered my name, I suppose I don’t need to introduce myself.”

“Heh heh, naturally. The presence of a Third-Level Zenith is always worthy of respect.” Fales’s tone was remarkably soft, and he spoke in the Garan language. Yang Ying sensed that Fales himself was a Third-Level master; his every gesture and movement effortlessly conveyed his thoughts.

Fales then turned his attention to Wulengas, his eyes lighting up. “If I am not mistaken, this Burker is also a Third-Level master. It truly surprises me to see one such as him following in your wake.” Because Fales was himself a Third-Level master, he could discern Wulengas’s comparable strength. Furthermore, without Yang Ying making an explicit effort to suppress his aura, Fales could vaguely perceive Yang Ying’s cultivation level, unlike the horse-faced alien who stood before a Third-Level Zenith and perceived nothing.

“Commander Yang Ying and I are quite compatible,” Wulengas offered, using the excuse prepared earlier. “And since he is a Third-Level Peak master, following him will bring me considerable gains.”

After a few more pleasantries, Yang Ying stated his purpose. “According to the Mercenary Guild’s regulations, I request that Mr. Fales upgrade the Teran Mercenary Group to a Third-Level Guild.”

“That is certainly no issue,” Fales spread his hands and smiled. “Please hand me the data card recording your mercenary group’s statistics, and I shall process the upgrade.”

Yang Ying produced the magnetic card the horse-faced alien had given him and placed it in Fales’s hand.

Fales inserted the card into a machine and activated several light screens, his fingers dancing across the displays with the deftness of threading a needle. He operated them with a dazzling array of motions while simultaneously asking Yang Ying a few questions. After all, the requirements for a Third-Level Guild differed from those of a Zero-Level Guild, necessitating more precise data verification.

“Ordinarily, a standard Third-Level Guild upgrade wouldn't require my personal attention; that’s reserved for Fifth and Sixth-Level Guilds. However, for Commander Yang Ying, a Third-Level Peak master, your inherent status is not inferior to that of a Sixth-Level Guild leader. Moreover, the testing device in the main hall displayed a deep purple hue, not the standard purple. Commander Yang Ying’s strength is extraordinary, surpassing even ordinary Zenith Masters. I suspect that aside from myself, no one else in the Veda Branch is qualified to receive your esteemed presence.”

Fales spoke as he worked, swiftly completing all the necessary procedures. Being the highest-ranking official here certainly offered convenience; the entire process flowed seamlessly, wasting not a moment. Upon completion, he handed the card back to Yang Ying. “It is all done. Effective immediately, you are a Third-Level Mercenary Group and may accept missions ranked below Third-Level.”

“Ah, one thing,” Yang Ying asked after taking the card. “We still have no accrued reputation, yet our mission rank has jumped two levels. Do we need to post an even larger security deposit?”

“That would be unnecessary,” Fales shook his head. “Commander Yang Ying, you are a master at the Third-Level Peak, perhaps even the Third-Level Limit. Your very existence is your credibility! No one would believe that a master of the Third-Level Peak would risk his reputation over some minor missions below the Third-Level. What is that pittance worth? You can earn far more through conventional means, perhaps only reaching Seven-Level Super Missions would be worth the price of your reputation.”

“So, I have become a living advertisement,” Yang Ying laughed.

“Precisely,” Fales confirmed. “According to general trends, under the leadership of a master like yourself, the Teran Mercenary Group’s Third-Level status is merely the most basic starting point. You can quickly advance to Fifth-Level or higher! Fifth and Sixth-Levels are considered High-Rank Mercenary Groups. At that stage, the true allure of being a mercenary will gradually manifest.”

They conversed for a while longer. Yang Ying learned much about the Mercenary Guild from Fales, and Yang Ying, in turn, mentioned matters concerning the Solar System, such as the Ancient Legion and the conflict between the Garans and the Kustar.

“The war between the Kustar and the Garans has raged for too long, drawing in and causing the destruction of over a hundred lower civilizations. The Terrans’ foundation is too shallow. Remind your government to be extremely cautious; do not rush to become entangled. It is a bottomless pit; no amount of lives thrown in will ever be enough to fill it,” Fales cautioned.

“Thank you for the reminder,” Yang Ying said, feeling it was time to depart. “It’s getting late, so I shall take my leave.”

“Travel well,” Fales rose and performed a standard farewell gesture common throughout the Orion Arm.

Yang Ying and Wulengas stood and returned the salute before departing Fales’s office, bringing the entirely unused 4T with them. Although no one escorted them out, Yang Ying and Wulengas possessed the ability for memory recall, making retracing their steps a simple matter. They encountered several people in the corridor who clearly recognized Yang Ying as the Third-Level Peak expert whose test reading had generated the deep purple light, and who had come specifically because of him. These individuals approached with various motives—some seeking recruitment, others hoping to gain familiarity, and even a few aspiring to become his disciples. Yang Ying ignored them all, proceeding directly downstairs.

The crowd below remained as bustling as before, perhaps even denser, composed largely of newcomers. As Yang Ying descended, many gazes immediately fixed on him.

More than a dozen telepathic messages immediately reached Yang Ying’s ears. Their content differed vastly from those he had received on the second floor; Yang Ying found them all uninteresting.

Yang Ying cleared a path with his psychic force as he walked; anyone blocking his way was automatically shifted aside. As they passed an information terminal, Wulengas inquired via telepathy, “Should we check the terminal for any suitable missions now?”

“No need,” Yang Ying replied telepathically. “This mercenary identity card, besides recording our status, is also a pass to log into the internal network of the Mercenary Guild. With it, even back on the Behemoth, we can access the Guild’s system and search for any information I require.”

The network here utilized faster-than-light communication protocols. Even from a remote corner of the galaxy like Earth, they could log in anytime.

“Understood,” Wulengas replied, then returned to following Yang Ying as if nothing had happened.

“Esteemed sir, please wait,” a voice sounded near Yang Ying’s ear. Yang Ying ignored it and continued walking forward.

“Esteemed sir, we have matters of importance to discuss. There is a major mission that might interest you,” the voice insisted persistently.

Yang Ying glanced toward the source of the telepathic call. He saw several figures heavily cloaked in black robes standing in a corner of the hall. Yang Ying paused, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to inquire; if he wasn't interested, he could simply ignore them. He sent a telepathic reply: “What kind of mission is it?”

The voice responded, “If we were to use the Mercenary Guild’s classification, the mission I wish to commission would rank at Level Seven!”

Yang Ying chuckled twice. “That’s a very high-ranking mission. Even if it were given to me, I couldn’t accept it. We are only a Third-Level Guild.”

The voice immediately countered, “That is the Guild's rule if you use the Mercenary Guild as a platform. However, if we hire you directly, bypassing the Guild, you are not bound by that regulation.”