After that in one invitation , President Wang had been convinced that joining the Twilight Hermit Order would accelerate his rise, that it was his own cleverness in seizing the opportunity.
Qian Renxue smiled coldly. 'Men like him… so easy to nudge, so eager to climb.'
Ghost Douluo's shadow flickered behind her. He had long since disappeared into the gloom of the chamber, unseen but present.
Meanwhile, President Wang sat in his office thinking that the Twilight Hermit Order was simply a mysterious organization backed by powerful figures in Spirit Hall. He did not know who truly controlled it, nor did he care.
His current title—President of the Spirit Arena in this city—sounded impressive, but in truth, it was a position just below the true seat of authority. He could give orders, manage staff, and bask in respect, but final decisions did not rest with him.
The Wang family, his bloodline, gave him his footing. The current chairman of the Spirit Arena was from another family.
President Wang believed, under the banner of the Twilight Hermit Order, he had found a path to surpass and overturn the balance of power in his favor.
Qian Renxue, however, thought otherwise.
She had no interest in President Wang's ambitions, nor in the petty rivalries. For her, the man was merely a tool, a mouthpiece, a network of connections stretching beyond Spirit City. Through him, she could plant roots into the arena system, gather information, and subtly expand Twilight Hermit's unseen hand.
President Wang studied the young girl seated before him, her posture calm, her aura sharp enough to cut through silence. Though her age seemed tender, her gaze held the depth of someone far older.
President Wang folded his hands and said,
"You must be here for information about the turmoil in Heaven Dou City's underworld. Since becoming president of this arena only a month ago, I have been forced to deal with a number of… complications."
He slid open a drawer and retrieved a thick, bound report. The parchment gave off the faint scent of ink and wax, its pages filled with detailed accounts. With both hands, he placed it before Qian Renxue.
"The chaos began with the death of the previous leader, Mr. Zhou."
Qian Renxue's eyes flickered faintly, though her face remained unreadable. President Wang, taking her silence as interest, leaned forward and continued.
"With Zhou gone, the gangs tore each other apart for dominance. Old factions collapsed overnight, their leaders replaced by ambitious newcomers. Fresh blood flooded into the ranks—young, ruthless, eager to carve their names into the alleys of Heaven Dou. And amidst the upheaval, one man clawed his way to the top."
He tapped the report with a single finger.
"Dang Dao. He now calls himself… Mr. Dao."
At this, Qian Renxue arched a brow, her slender fingers flipping through the report. The first page bore a portrait: a man with broken, unkempt hair, a thin scar carved across his nose, and eyes that seemed utterly hollow of expression.
There was some brief information regarding him in the notes below.
Dang Dao. Former right-hand man of Mr. Zhou Considerable following among Zhou's remaining men.
Ruthless consolidation of power. After a month of bloody struggle, emerged as undisputed leader.
Qian Renxue thought ' Will not be much different than Mr. Zhou'
She closed the report softly and set it back on the table.
"Thank you for your assistance, President Wang."
Her words were calm, polite, but her tone carried no trace of warmth.
President Wang threw back his head with a laugh.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! It is my honor, Lady Messenger. As a loyal member of the Order, it is my duty to provide such information."
His smile widened, but in his eyes there flashed a shrewd, calculating glint.
Qian Renxue's own gaze deepened, her mind working behind the still mask of her expression.
Her lips curved faintly, neither smile nor smirk, as silence stretched across the richly decorated chamber.
However, she said softly, almost as if it were an afterthought,
"President Wang, I have a request for you."
President Wang straightened his posture immediately. "Oh? What is it? If it is within my ability, I will naturally try my best to fulfill it."
Qian Renxue did not answer him directly. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the wide glass pane of the window. Outside, muffled roars, cheers, and the clash of soul skill echoed faintly from the Spirit Arena.
"Most soul masters," she began, her tone calm yet carrying a weight that made the air in the office tighten, "showcase their talents here, in the arena. Spirit Arenas must keep a very… comprehensive record of them, don't they?"