The Zhao Estate was not built to welcome guests.
It was built to intimidate them.
Hidden behind high iron gates and layers of private security, the estate stretched across an entire hillside overlooking the city. Marble paths cut through manicured gardens, and the main mansion stood like a silent judge watching everything below.
Black luxury cars arrived one after another.
Tonight was not just a family gathering.
It was a statement.
Inside the main hall, crystal chandeliers bathed the room in white light. Men in tailored suits spoke quietly in clusters, their smiles polite but their eyes calculating. Women in elegant dresses moved gracefully between them, laughter soft, measured.
Every person here carried influence.
Every conversation had weight.
At the center of it all stood Zhao Wenhai.
He greeted guests calmly, his expression neutral, his posture relaxed — the posture of a man who knew this room belonged to him.
"Chairman Zhao," a man in gray said quietly, leaning closer. "Is it true you invited that young fighter?"
Zhao Wenhai sipped his drink.
"I invited someone interesting," he replied. "Nothing more."
The man chuckled.
"In a place like this," he said, "interesting often becomes dangerous."
Zhao Wenhai smiled faintly.
"Only if you can't control it."
Across the room, Zhao Ming stood stiffly near a pillar, his jaw clenched.
He hated this.
Every laugh felt directed at him.
Every whisper carried his humiliation.
Then—
The hall grew quieter.
Not suddenly.
Gradually.
As if the air itself had shifted.
Several guests turned toward the entrance at the same time.
The doors opened.
Liang Chen walked in alone.
No escort.
No hesitation.
No attempt to blend in.
He wore a simple black suit — clean, sharp, understated. No jewelry. No visible signs of wealth.
But the moment he stepped inside, something changed.
Eyes followed him.
Conversations slowed.
Some people frowned.
Others leaned forward, curiosity igniting.
"This is him?" someone whispered.
"He doesn't look special."
"Looks can lie."
Liang Chen's gaze swept calmly across the hall.
He felt it immediately.
Dozens of hidden pressures pressing inward.
Assessing him.
Testing him.
[Ding.]
[High-density authority zone detected.]
[Mission 003 — Progress: 15%.]
Liang Chen continued forward without slowing.
Zhao Wenhai noticed him instantly.
Their eyes met across the hall.
For a moment, neither man moved.
Then Zhao Wenhai raised his glass slightly.
A polite acknowledgment.
Liang Chen did not return it.
That single omission drew more attention than any bow could have.
Several elders exchanged glances.
Interesting.
Liang Chen stopped near the center of the hall.
He didn't seek Zhao Wenhai out.
He didn't introduce himself.
He simply stood.
And waited.
That alone unsettled the room.
A man in a dark blue suit stepped forward, his expression amused.
"You must be the young man everyone's been talking about," he said. "Liang Chen, was it?"
Liang Chen looked at him calmly.
"Yes."
The man smiled.
"I'm Han Qiming. I manage three underground venues in the west district."
Liang Chen nodded once.
Han Qiming chuckled.
"Impressive performance at the arena," he said. "But places like this… they play by different rules."
Liang Chen's gaze remained steady.
"Rules," he replied, "are created by those who can enforce them."
The smile on Han Qiming's face stiffened.
Several nearby guests paused their conversations.
Zhao Wenhai watched from a distance, eyes narrowing slightly.
Han Qiming cleared his throat.
"Confidence is good," he said lightly. "But here, respect comes first."
Liang Chen tilted his head slightly.
"Then you should be careful how you speak to me."
The room fell silent.
Han Qiming's eyes hardened.
"Are you threatening me?"
Liang Chen didn't raise his voice.
"I'm informing you."
A low murmur rippled through the hall.
Han Qiming laughed sharply.
"Chairman Zhao," he called out, "is this how your guests behave now?"
Zhao Wenhai finally stepped forward.
"Mr. Han," he said calmly, "tonight is not the night for misunderstandings."
Han Qiming hesitated, then stepped back with a tight smile.
"Of course," he said. "I wouldn't want to ruin the atmosphere."
Liang Chen turned his gaze away as if Han Qiming no longer existed.
[Ding.]
[Authority acknowledgment detected.]
[Mission 003 — Progress: 35%.]
Zhao Wenhai approached slowly.
"You're provoking reactions," he said quietly.
Liang Chen met his gaze.
"I'm observing responses."
Zhao Wenhai smiled faintly.
"Careful," he said. "Some people here don't forgive embarrassment."
Liang Chen's expression didn't change.
"Neither do I."
---
Dinner was served shortly after.
A long table filled the center of the hall, covered in expensive dishes and crystal glasses.
Seats were assigned.
Liang Chen was placed near the end.
Intentionally.
He sat down without comment.
Across the table, Zhao Ming avoided his gaze.
The meal began.
Conversation flowed — controlled, superficial.
Until an elder near the head of the table spoke.
"Young Liang," the man said calmly, "you entered this city very loudly."
All eyes turned toward Liang Chen.
"Yes," Liang Chen replied.
The elder raised an eyebrow.
"Do you intend to stay?"
Liang Chen set down his glass.
"I intend to rule," he said.
The hall froze.
Even Zhao Wenhai stiffened slightly.
Several people laughed — uncertain whether it was a joke.
Liang Chen didn't smile.
The elder studied him carefully.
"Rule?" he repeated. "Over what?"
Liang Chen looked around the table slowly.
"Over those who think they can decide my place."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then Zhao Wenhai spoke.
"Liang Chen," he said, voice calm but firm, "this gathering exists because balance matters."
Liang Chen turned toward him.
"And imbalance," he replied, "creates opportunity."
The tension in the room became palpable.
[Ding.]
[Mission 003 — Progress: 60%.]
A man seated two seats away suddenly stood.
"You're arrogant," he snapped. "This isn't an arena."
Liang Chen looked at him.
"You're correct," he said. "If it were, you wouldn't be standing."
The man's face flushed red.
Zhao Wenhai raised his hand.
"Enough," he said.
The room exhaled collectively.
Zhao Wenhai turned to Liang Chen.
"You've made your point," he said. "Now make a choice."
Liang Chen waited.
"Join us," Zhao Wenhai continued, "or leave this city."
Liang Chen stood.
Slowly.
Every movement deliberate.
He looked at Zhao Wenhai.
"I already chose," he said.
"And?"
Liang Chen's gaze swept the room one final time.
"I don't join," he said. "I replace."
A shockwave of murmurs erupted.
Several guests stood abruptly.
Security shifted at the edges of the hall.
Zhao Wenhai's eyes darkened.
[Ding.]
[Mission 003 — Progress: 90%.]
Zhao Wenhai took a deep breath.
"You leave now," he said coldly, "and we pretend this was a misunderstanding."
Liang Chen smiled faintly.
"I didn't come to be misunderstood."
He turned toward the exit.
Then stopped.
He looked back.
"And tell your people this," he said calmly. "If they want to test me… choose a public place."
The doors closed behind him.
The hall erupted into chaos.
[Ding.]
[Mission 003 — Incomplete.]
[Final condition pending: Public acknowledgment.]
Liang Chen stepped into the night air.
The city lights shimmered.
He inhaled slowly.
"Not yet," he murmured.
Behind him, Zhao Wenhai stood motionless, staring at the closed doors.
"This," he said quietly, "just became unavoidable."
Far away, forces aligned.
And the city prepared for its first real confrontation.