Han sized up the three Tianlong Gate disciples standing before him—all at the Viscera Realm, young and brimming with pride.


    Their lineage, talent, and strength gave them every reason to strut. From Haizhou to here, countless folks probably bowed and scraped before them.


    Too bad they’d picked the wrong guy to push around this time.


    Han wasn’t about to play nice.


    “What’s your rank?” he asked coolly.


    “Tianlong inner disciples!” one barked, chest puffed with arrogance.


    “Is Black Cloud Town Tianlong Gate’s turf?”


    “Is the whole world under your thumb?”


    “Do all the realm’s people answer to you?”


    Han fired off three questions, leaving them stumped.


    Sure, they’d love to claim the world as their playground, but that was a pipe dream.


    “Dodging the point, huh, Han? What’s your game?” the narrow-eyed leader snapped.


    “If it’s not your turf, what’s my business got to do with you?” Han’s tone turned icy, hitting back hard. “Does everyone need to file a friendship report with Tianlong Gate first?”


    Talk about overreach—like a bureaucrat raised in the sea.


    “Anything else?” Han’s voice stayed flat. “If not, get out of the way. You’re clogging up Tai Bai’s training space.”


    The guy Bai Ruoyue had just flattened bristled, fury twisting his face. “You’ve got some nerve mouthing off. Do you even know what Tianlong Gate is in Great Qi?”


    Han shot back, dead serious, “And do you know what I am in Great Qi?”


    The Tianlong crew froze, rattled by his tone—regal, commanding, almost majestic.


    Could this Black Cloud prodigy have more backing than we thought?


    When they didn’t respond, Han cracked a grin. “I’m a citizen of Great Qi!”


    “…”


    Playing us for fools?


    A lowly peasant daring to act this tough?


    Han waved them off, patience gone. “You’ve sparred with my Senior Sister already—now beat it.”


    “Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to loiter at someone’s doorstep?”


    “Hold up,” Narrow-Eyes said, giving Han a once-over. “We’ve seen this backwater’s former top dog. Now I’m curious if you, the current champ, live up to the hype.”


    “Senior Sister, who won that spar?” Han asked, tilting his head.


    Bai Ruoyue feigned confusion. “Should’ve been me, but their trash talk’s got me second-guessing.”


    “The way they’re yapping, you’d think I took the fall.”


    “Funny thing, though—I don’t recall being the one crawling off the floor.”


    Shen Yu piped up, “Senior Sister, you’ve been on your feet the whole time.”


    Han chuckled. “Guess this ‘backwater’ outshines those fancy big cities.”


    The jab was crystal clear.


    Can’t even beat our ‘hillbillies,’ and you’re still flexing?


    “Sharp tongue,” Narrow-Eyes muttered.


    “Han, we know you won’t throw a punch, but today, you can’t—”


    “Who said that?” Han cut him off, eyes flashing as he scanned them.


    “I love a good fight.”


    These clowns had stormed into Black Cloud Town acting like kings—bullying, snatching homes, picking fights left and right.


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    First, they’d roughed up Shen Long. Now they were back, pushing their luck.


    He’d been itching to knock them down a peg.


    “Who’s stepping up?” Han challenged. “This ‘hillbilly’ can spare a moment to school you.”


    “Me!” one barked, stepping forward. “Brothers Fang, Li, and Yu—I didn’t get my fill last time. Let me take this round.”


    Han eyed the guy. “You’re Xiao Zhi?”


    “That’s right,” Xiao Zhi nodded. “Sounds like you’ve heard of me.”


    “You’re just Tendon Realm, but word around Black Cloud says you’ve got Viscera-level chops. Fighting me? Not exactly unfair.”


    “Let’s see how much of that ‘Viscera strength’ holds water.”


    Han’s expression flattened. “You’ll find out soon enough.”


    Their attitudes and smirks had him ready to swing ages ago.


    “But we’re all martial artists here,” he added. “Time’s precious—why waste it on petty nonsense?”


    “I’ll give you one free lesson. After that, if you want another round, it won’t be so simple.”


    “You’ll need to dig into what my time’s worth.”


    Brother Fang smirked. “Beat Xiao Zhi, and we’re done for today.”


    “Big talk,” Xiao Zhi sneered. “Think we’re like the trash around here?”


    “Want a reward? Survive a few moves first.”


    “No weapons—I’d hate to end you by mistake.”


    Han nodded. “Smart call.”


    “You just saved your own skin.”


    “Let’s take it outs—”


    Before he could finish, Xiao Zhi lunged, his foot cracking the dojo floor with raw force.


    With a feral shout, his face twisted into a snarl.


    “No need to step out—a few moves’ll settle it!”


    Bursting with speed, Xiao Zhi closed the gap in a blink—an inch to a Viscera fighter might as well be nothing.


    Han’s gaze turned cold. Digging your own grave, huh?


    Now I’ve got to fix the damn floor too!


    Step, fist, swing.


    Boom!


    Xiao Zhi rocketed back faster than he’d come, blasting through the dojo’s door and crashing outside in a plume of dust.


    Han pulled back his fist, tucking it behind him, eyes fixed on the wreck outside.


    “No different from the last guy who tried me.”


    “Carry him off.”


    One clash, and Han had Xiao Zhi’s measure.


    His body and true qi edged out the average Viscera newbie from Tianyue County’s big nine, but taking on their core disciples cross-realm and winning? Not even close.


    To Han, he was small fry.


    Inner disciples with elite-grade methods—without a big faction’s backing, rare treasures, or dumb luck, their foundations only slightly topped high-grade stuff.


    For your average martial artist, they’re a brick wall.


    For Han? Meh.


    Bai Ruoyue and the crew grinned—they’d seen this coming.


    Tianlong Gate? First-rate faction?


    Tai Bai’s got General Han—genius-slayer extraordinaire!


    The Tianlong trio’s faces shifted—shock, then grim.


    “You’re Viscera Realm?” Brother Fang growled.


    “Some Black Cloud top genius you are.”


    One punch flooring an inner disciple? No way he was just Tendon Realm with Viscera-level tricks, like the rumors said.


    He was Viscera—Minor Completion at least.


    Outside, the crowd buzzed.


    Tianlong’s crew had made waves fast—everyone knew them.


    “Han from Tai Bai just one-punched a Viscera Tianlong disciple?”


    “His strength’s unreal—way past the hype!”


    “Wasn’t he Tendon Realm? When’d he hit Viscera?”


    “Too fast!”


    Gasps rippled through the onlookers.


    Han waved them off. “See yourselves out.”


    Xiao Zhi staggered back in, clutching his chest, pale as a ghost. “You hid your strength? Shameless!”


    Han fired back, “What, Tianlong disciples spill their whole playbook—moves, tricks, specialties—before a fight?”


    Should I announce I’m a level-99 assault master with a Bull Demon technique too?


    Talk about handing over the script.


    “Xiao Zhi, stand down,” Fang ordered, taking charge.


    “Didn’t expect a real genius to pop up in Black Cloud Town,” he said, eyeing Han, gears turning.


    Months of training to this point—he’s hiding something big…


    “I can request the sect elders to give you another shot at joining Tianlong—straight into the inner circle, even.”


    “Do what we say, serve Tianlong faithfully, and we’ll let today slide.”


    “Your screw-ups? Forgiven.”


    Fang’s tone stayed lofty, his offer dripping with charity.


    Translation: Be our lapdog!


    Sure, it was “just a spar,” but they’d taken hits. A Tianlong disciple getting roughed up—how could they let that go?


    A podunk dojo kid getting to trade blows with them was an honor for Tai Bai, and he dared to push back?


    Even in a spar, they hurt people—no one hurts them!


    Han’s brow creased. “Get lost.”


    “You’re making the wrong call again,” Fang said. “Second chances don’t come thrice. Black Cloud’s top genius isn’t irreplaceable.”


    “Han, fight me!” Yu Ren stepped up, cracking his knuckles with a chilling grin.


    The last of the four, Viscera Minor Completion.


    Xiao Zhi lost to Han, Li Hai fell to Bai Ruoyue—only Yu Ren and Fang hadn’t swung yet.


    Fang, Viscera Peak, was the strongest martial disciple Tianlong had sent to Black Cloud.


    “I warned you,” Han said. “Another round with me doesn’t come cheap.”


    Yu Ren laughed, dripping disdain. “Kid, you think you can set terms with us?”


    “You do what we say—no saying no.”


    Perfect—Tianlong arrogance in full bloom.


    “Try me,” Bai Ruoyue snapped, eyes blazing. “Anyone moves today, they’re leaving something behind.”


    “Some tiny dojo threatening us? Looking to die!” Li Hai roared.


    “This tiny dojo can bury you!” Shen Long and the crew stepped up, tension crackling, fists itching.


    Han took a deep breath, a rare unease creeping in.


    He’d finally tasted the ugly side of some disciples from these ancient, world-famous factions.


    Overbearing, cocky, looking down on everyone.


    “If you’re begging for a loss,” Han said coldly, “I’ll oblige.”


    “Wait for your elders to pick up the pieces!”


    [Tai Bai] flared—sharp and deadly. He was done talking.


    Four Viscera punks? He wasn’t scared, Tianlong Gate or not.


    They’d spat in his face—time to take it.


    This wasn’t Haizhou. This was Black Cloud Town!


    Shing!


    Sword light slashed out, streaking toward Yu Ren. Before he could react, blood bloomed across his chest.


    “Argh!” he howled, fury surging as he moved to strike back.


    “Yu Ren, stop!” Fang barked, halting him.


    “I said if you beat Xiao Zhi, we’re done for today.”


    Han sheathed his sword, locking eyes with Fang. This guy was trouble—way sharper than the rest.


    “Come back to Tai Bai, and you’ll leave more than apologies next time.”