Gray clouds loomed over the raw skeleton of the building under construction, the steel ribs and concrete bones stretching upwards and casting heavy shadows over the silent street. The wind carried dust and the distant sound of sirens, but inside the gates, all was tense anticipation.
Yei Feng and Lee Chen stood side by side, surveying the half-lit structure with a feeling of walking into a lion's den. A faint pressure in the air made Yei Feng narrow his eyes—he could already sense the turbulent qi swirling above. "Chen, are you absolutely sure there should only be five people?" Yei Feng asked, his voice low and steady. "My senses tell me there are at least three cultivators—including the boss—and more than twenty thugs. This won't be as simple as you thought."
Lee Chen swallowed hard, doubt creeping into his features. "I… I didn't expect this. I figured five at most, not all this backup. Can you still handle it? I wish I could help, Feng, but there's nothing I can do. My family examined me, said my body just isn't fit for martial cultivation. I can't learn qi techniques at all."
Yei Feng put a reassuring hand on Lee Chen's shoulder. "Don't underestimate yourself. Sometimes, the most important roles aren't obvious. Stay with me. I'll get us through."
Suddenly, rough laughter echoed by the entrance. From the shadows stepped a broad-shouldered man wearing a black jacket, scars crisscrossing his neck and jaw. His confidence radiated like poison. "Well, young master Lee Chen finally decided to show up. And you brought company? What's your pal's name—servant, bodyguard, or just a prop?"
Lee Chen remained silent, his gaze icy. Yei Feng matched it, his eyes glinting with quiet challenge. The man grinned, flashing gold teeth. "Name's Hua Jin. Boss of this little empire. You can call me Lord Jin." He jerked a thumb up the unfinished stairwell. "The boss is waiting for you on the top floor. Don't keep him or me waiting—he hates disrespect."
Yei Feng replied evenly, "We're not here to disrespect. Lead the way."
Passing through the exposed concrete corridors, Yei Feng continued to sense qi signatures—one trembled with nervous ambition, another pulsed with heavy force. Scattered thugs watched them pass, leaning on broken railings, holding pipes or knives, some snickering, others sizing up Lee Chen and Yei Feng as if gauging a price.
Each step up the winding staircase seemed to grow heavier. Lee Chen's breathing quickened, tension showing in the set of his jaw. Yei Feng walked ahead, the picture of stoic calm, already calculating every hostile force and possible exit.
At the top, the space widened into an unfinished hall, windows offering jagged views of the city skyline. In the center, on a battered office chair, sat another boss—a man with hard eyes, a sleek ponytail, and long scars running down his arms. Next to him stood two lieutenants: one thin and scrappy, wearing a steel chain around his neck, and another burly, his arms banded with muscle and tattoos.
Hua Jin strode up, arms wide. "Welcome to my territory. I'm peak Qi Refining myself, and these two? Both in the stage, too. The Lee family doesn't frighten me—my backer controls half the blocks in this city. You came to settle your little problem, Lee Chen?"
Lee Chen faced Hua Jin, resolve tightening in his voice. "I didn't come here to beg or buy my way out. I want to settle things openly, not by running or hiding."
Hua Jin sneered, "The Lee family's rich, but tonight, it won't matter. We set the price—a hundred thousand. That's the debt for crossing me."
Yei Feng's eyes flickered with interest. "A hundred thousand? And you assembled all these men for that? Seems a bit excessive—unless you're afraid."
At Yei Feng's words, Hua Jin's sneer faltered. "Afraid of you? Not a chance. You can't break three Qi Refining cultivators, even if you think you're special." He gestured, and his lieutenants stepped closer, their qi swirling, knives glinting in their hands.
Yei Feng looked at Lee Chen. "Stay back—let me talk." He stepped forward, surveying the room, feeling the coiled energy of more than twenty thugs, the pulse of three cultivators.
Yei Feng took slow, deliberate steps toward the boss, each move radiating an aura of quiet power. The circle of thugs and cultivators fell silent, all eyes locked on him. With a faint smirk, Yei Feng spoke, voice cold and clear, "So you're Hua Jin, the so-called king of this block? You talk like you're some immortal. But you're just a bug to me—a Qi Refining cultivator trying to play god."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Hua Jin's face twisted in fury, cheeks flushing deep red. He sneered, trying to hide his surprise. "Trying to provoke me, are you? Hoping I drop my guard—"
But before Hua Jin could finish, Yei Feng shot forward with blinding speed. In one motion, he closed the gap and struck, his fist landing square against Hua Jin's jaw. The boss was sent flying, crashing through a pile of broken pipes and tumbling toward the edge of the rooftop. Shuddering, Hua Jin pulled himself upright, now only a meter from a deadly fall. Sweat beaded on his skin as newfound fear mixed with anger.
The silence that followed was shattered as Hua Jin barked orders, panic sharpening his voice: "What are you waiting for? Kill him! All of you—go!"
The thugs stared, frozen, as the reality of Yei Feng's power hit them. One by one, gripped by fear, they bolted for the stairwell, scrambling over each other in their rush to escape.
When the dust settled, only Hua Jin and his two closest allies remained—two Qi Refining cultivators he trusted above all others. One was Black, tall and lean, clad in midnight clothes and silent as a shadow. The other was White, broad-shouldered, hair as pale as frost, his eyes cold and cunning. Hua Jin gestured to them, desperate and furious. "Black! White! Finish that brat off! Once we deal with him, we'll teach those cowards a lesson they'll never forget!"
He turned, seeking Yei Feng—but the spot where Yei Feng had stood was now empty. Black and White lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless, their eyes wide with shock. A chill ran through Hua Jin as he realized what had happened.
The only sound was the faint echo of footsteps as Yei Feng appeared behind Hua Jin, his presence heavy with dominance. "Did you really think strength was a matter of numbers?" Yei Feng's voice was like steel.
Hua Jin's bravado crumbled, replaced with terror. He staggered, no longer king of anything—just another bug, facing a power he couldn't comprehend.