In the living room.
Fyren sat in the middle of the sofa, legs crossed, gazing up at the ceiling.
Silver King, Copper King, and Iron King stood facing him.
Staring at the ceiling, Fyren spoke: "What do you think... is it better to save people or kill them?"
The three had no idea what he was getting at, and none dared to speak.
After a moment's thought, Silver King replied: "In this world, one often has no choice. We brothers all owe our lives to you, Fyren."
Still fixed on the ceiling, Fyren shook his head: "Do you hate me? If it weren't for me, you'd still be living comfortably as kings, enjoying the good life with power and influence. Now you're being hunted by the entire Mighty Syndicate."
The three rushed to say they bore him no ill will.
Fyren smiled, sat up straight, and turned his gaze to them. "I want to save someone. Today, this man knelt before me. He's a true man—I'd hate to see him die."
Iron King looked utterly confused. "Fyren, who are you talking about?"
"Gold King," Fyren said.
Silver King jolted. "Fyren! What's happened to my elder brother?"
Fyren answered: "He and Tactician came to Crystalpeak City. We've been locked in a duel for two days, but now they're captured—set to be handed over to the Helmsman for disposal."
He shook his head. "They're as good as dead."
Silver King dropped to his knees at once. "Fyren! My elder brother is an honorable man. Please, save him this once!"
Fyren looked at Silver King. "He asked me to pass a message to you: in the next life, he'll still be your brother."
Silver King burst into tears. He knew his sworn elder brother would never have Fyren deliver such a message unless he was in utter despair.
"Fyren," Silver King said, "if you can save my elder brother, I swear he'll be loyal to you for life, repaying your great kindness. As for me—save him, and I'll devote myself to you for the rest of my days. This life of mine is yours."
Fyren shifted his gaze to Copper King and Iron King. "What about you two?"
Copper King and Iron King had once been subordinates of Gold King, though there was a competitive edge to their workplace relationship.
That said, Gold King was an honorable man who never liked to oppress his subordinates.
Silver King was different—he loved to show off, and had never been kind to Copper King or Iron King.
Now, with the balance of power under Fyren shifting, and Gold King gone, Silver King would become the strongest force.
Wouldn't that mean the two of them would be constantly oppressed by Silver King?
So they did hold a good opinion of Gold King, and had no objections to saving him.
But... they knew too little about this matter, and the risks were high.
All three kings worried about their futures, fearing that one day a Black-Clad Guard might suddenly step out of the shadows and slit their throats.
Following Fyren was just a matter of getting by day to day.
The stronger Fyren's side grew, the safer they would be.
In fact, if there were two kings above them—Gold and Silver—they'd feel even safer.
So the two of them also agreed to save Gold King.
Fyren slapped his thigh and declared: "Let's save him!"
...
Hongyun Restaurant. The Imperial Suite.
Fyren and Felix sat across from each other, drinking wine and chatting.
Fyren was a business tycoon—no match for trillionaire Tinson in scale, yet with a net worth exceeding two hundred billion, he already ranked among the elites.
Felix held Fyren in high regard, and for two reasons. First, he sensed Fyren's uniqueness. Though the man came off as smooth, cunning, and self-serving, in critical moments he could unleash such fearsome Acala techniques that he was all but invincible in the martial arts world. Second, Felix was at heart a martial artist; even after years of serving Tinson, martial blood still coursed through his veins.
Witnessing the ancient martial artist Gold King show such loyalty to Fyren touched him deeply. Especially when he heard Fyren had unhesitatingly produced a rare elixir like the Junior Recovery Potion to save Gold King, his admiration grew stronger still. After all, even combining the Tactician and Gold King, their worth might not equal that single elixir!
Fyren's loyalty and generosity were plain to see. Though he looked like a merchant, his actions were those of a hero—and this impressed Felix most of all.
As they talked, the two grew more and more in tune, their spirits lifting by the moment, until they finally swore brotherhood. Fyren didn't believe in such oaths in the slightest, but there was no helping it—everyone in the martial arts world did.
In truth, it was all nonsense. A decent person would stay loyal even without an oath. It was like with a dog: even if you cut off a finger to swear an oath, it would still betray you if pushed. As the old saying went: Beyond the Three Sworn Brothers of the Peach Garden, who else remains loyal to the very end? That was the crux of it.
Fyren was drunk, and so was Felix.
By midnight, Fyren instructed the hotel staff to help Felix check in. He clapped a hand over his mouth, stumbled out, and slipped away unnoticed.
The moment he stepped outside, Iron King approached. "Fyren."
Fyren fought down a wave of nausea. "What's the status?"
"We've found them. They're waiting over there, ready to move."
"Follow me!"
In an old suburban house, two experts slept. Suddenly, several kings—faces masked—burst in. The two experts, sharply alert, roused at once and engaged the kings in combat. Silver King was a Devil Cry master from the Central Quadportal; Copper King and Iron King were also awakening-stage masters from the same region.
Their opponents were clearly awakening-stage masters too. Silver King overpowered one, swiftly immobilizing him by sealing his acupoints. Copper King and Iron King also overpowered their man, but before they could act, Silver King appeared, sealed the man's acupoints, and struck him unconscious with a palm.
Fyren entered the dungeon, accompanied by the others. Copper King and Iron King hurried after him.
Fyren said, "Keep watch over them. Do not harm them."
"Yes, Fyren, rest assured."
The cell door creaked open, and Silver King burst in, dropping to his knees as tears streamed down his face. "Brother! Your little brother has come to save you!"
"Silver!?" Gold King had already heard the commotion of the fight outside. "What are you doing here?"
Silver King replied, "Fyren! It was Fyren who brought us here to save you!"
Gold King turned his gaze to Fyren, his heart a jumble of conflicting emotions.
Fyren offered a faint smile. "This isn't the time for talking, Silver King. Get him out of here."
"Yes!"
As they helped Gold King to the door, they spotted Tactician in another cell, chained to the ground. He sat with a grim expression, his eyes fixed on Fyren.
Fyren let out a sigh and walked away. Tactician slowly closed his eyes.
Moments later, Iron King entered. "Tactician."
Tactician looked up at him. "You..."
"Fyren told me to get you out too," Iron King said.
"How is that possible?"
"Quit wasting time." With a single palm strike, Iron King shattered the chains, hoisted Tactician up, and dashed out.
The group filed out of the small house and trudged along a narrow path in the night. Suddenly, a figure stepped out from ahead.
Everyone froze.
Fyren stared, stunned. "Big... brother?"
Felix's smile was bitter. "Fyren, you got me drunk and called me 'big brother'—was this what it was all for?"
Silver King stepped forward at once. "I'll hold him off. Fyren, go!"
Fyren pulled him back, his face burning with shame. "Big brother, I'm sorry. These four kings, and this Tactician—they joined the Mighty Syndicate out of necessity! They were raised that way, indoctrinated from childhood, and joined as soon as they were old enough to understand. The Mighty Syndicate rules through terror; anyone who tries to leave is hunted down without mercy... Deep down, they're not bad people. If we hand them over, the Syndicate will torture and abuse them endlessly."
Felix's voice was calm. "You know, if I make a move, no one here will walk away alive."
"I know," Fyren said. "Brother, I'm the one who planned this. If you need to take it out on someone, take me. They're just underlings, following my orders because they had no choice."
Felix lowered his head and drew a short knife. "Was it worth it?"
Fyren knew he'd bungled this entirely.
Idiot! After all these years in the underworld, how could I let a rookie outplay me like this? It had gone so smoothly—how did a seasoned Upper Quadportal expert like you get drunk on my watch? Fyren, you've truly lost your senses. Now it's all gone wrong.
His invitations, the drinking, the brotherhood oath... all of it had been a farce, staged for his own gain.
From Felix's perspective, this rich kid had been toying with him, tricking him—a scam wrapped in the pretense of brotherhood.
Fyren glanced at the short knife in Felix's hand. "Brother, that oath of ours was sincere. I wanted to get you drunk to get this done, not to ruin your life."
Felix's lips curved slightly. "If you get me drunk to smuggle people out, wouldn't that ruin my life all the same?"
Fyren had no reply. "Brother, there's no need... for a knife, is there?"
Silver King stepped forward. "Fyren, you two go. I'll hold him off!"
Fyren shot him a glance. "You can't stop him. Step aside."
Silver King slowly backed away, but his mind was already set—he would fight to the death.
Felix turned his gaze to Fyren. "Fyren, there's one thing I don't understand."
"Ask away, big brother."
"They're not kin to you, and every one of them has tried to kill you. Now you want to save them all. Why?"
Fyren scratched his head. "Brother, even if I explain, you might not get it. It's just... they had a bright future once. As enforcers under Otto, they earned money and lived freely. I'm the one who cornered them, to save my own skin. But deep down, they're nothing like the Black-Clad Guards. They're just good at handling gang matters, not ruthless killers. I..."
Felix nodded. "I see. You're soft-hearted."
Fyren grew anxious, biting his lip. "Brother, give us a way out. We can't just stand here forever."
Felix said, "There's only one way."
Silver King suddenly lunged forward, shouting, "Go now!"
Not even a second passed.
Silver King dropped to his knees. Felix had grabbed his wrist and twisted it, leaving him immobile. He released his grip, and at the same moment, a surge of internal energy shot forth, sending Silver King rolling back across the ground. He lay there, unable to rise for a long moment.
Felix's voice stayed calm. "Fyren, didn't I tell you? This can't be stopped."
Fyren lost his temper too. "Brother, if you're going to act, then do it. I owe you this time—I won't hold it against you. Gold King and Tactician can't escape; that's their bad luck. But what about my brothers? Can you let them go? Whether you spare them or not won't affect you! Just do your little brother this last favor!"
Felix gripped his short sword, staring coldly at Fyren. "What happens in the underworld stays in the underworld. I did drink your wine, and we did swear brotherhood. But if this blade doesn't taste blood, today's business can't be settled."
"Brother, you..."
Pfft!
Everyone froze.
Felix had plunged the dagger into his own chest!