Heightened Vigilance

When Gold King and Tactician locked eyes, they instantly grasped each other's thoughts. Something was amiss. They'd been dissecting the origins of that mysterious martial art, and now someone outside had shouted its name—and it was a child.

Their first thought: they were being targeted. The other side knew they were here, shouting the move's name at the door to announce their presence. Terrifying—how else to read it? A child delivering the warning only heightened the intimidation.

Having roamed the jianghu for years, both knew this was a power play—a display of surveillance and control. They channeled their Zhen Qi, ready for battle.

Tactician crept to the door and eased it open. No one. Stepping out, he saw a family of three strolling down the corridor.

Gold King squinted. "Tactician, look at their steps—no sign of martial training."

"Don't underestimate them," Tactician warned. "They wouldn't ambush us unprepared. Follow them."

Gold King trailed the family to a room. Tactician nodded, and Gold King rang the bell. A man answered: "Who are you?"

Tactician bowed slightly. "From Mighty Syndicate's Crystalpeak branch—"

"Not interested." Bang. The door slammed shut.

Gold King seethed. "Break it down!"

"Fool!" Tactician snapped. "If they set an ambush, they aren't afraid of you. Herbert isn't alone—he has a team. A sect? An organization? How many are there? How many rooms nearby? Weapons? Do you know any of this?"

Gold King hung his head. They were in mortal danger. Shouting the move's name meant everything was orchestrated—they were already in the enemy's crosshairs. Even masters like them felt a chill of powerlessness.

Tactician was about to signal another knock when a voice echoed down the hall. The pair darted into the shadows.

"Fyren, is this really okay?" Chloe's voice trilled.

Fyren held her close, one hand roaming her hip. "I don't invest in movies for business! Sundays, the theater's empty."

"Fyren, we have work—"

"Work?" He chuckled. "Your job is keeping me relaxed, happy... satisfied."

"You always bully me!"

"I love bullying you. And you love it, don't you?"

Chloe blushed. "Maybe."

"Ha! Here we are—where's the room key?"

"Right here."

The door swung open, and Fyren stumbled into Chloe, drawing a shriek from her. Tactician and Gold King emerged from the shadows, brows knit tightly, faces ashen.

"Fyren—what are you doing here?!" Gold King blurted.

Tactician raised a hand to silence him, scanning the corridor. "This just got complicated."

"How so?"

"Fyren is sending us a message."

"Could he be in league with Herbert? Same organization or sect?"

"Possible." Tactician exhaled deeply, rubbing his chin. "I may have miscalculated. If that family, Fyren, Herbert, and unknown others are here—we're sitting ducks. Our enemy isn't just Fyren; it's a mysterious organization—maybe even more shadowy than Mighty Syndicate."

Gold King's sweat soaked his shirt. "Tactician, let's attack!"

"Too late. Fyren's presence means they're prepared." Tactician gave a rueful smile. "All my scheming led us into their trap."

"Then we can't just die here!"

Tactician clenched his fists. "We talk. Dialogue solves everything."

"Talk to who?"

He took a breath and rang the family's doorbell again. The man answered, shirtless and toweling his wet hair. "You two again? What the hell do you want? Got a death wish?"

The pair tensed—was a fight brewing?

Tactician forced a smile. "No, sir, we merely wish to converse."

The man seethed. "Converse? We're strangers! Scram! I swear, if you knock again, I'll kill you both. In this hotel, it's child's play. Understand?"

"Yes, yes!" Tactician nodded profusely.

The door slammed. Gold King panted heavily. "Tactician, what now? They're too powerful."

"Don't you see? They want us to talk to Fyren."

"Fyren?"

Tactician smiled bitterly. "They said 'talk to whoever you want'. In this building, who do we know? Fyren... They threatened to kill us if we knock again, yet they haven't attacked. Why?"

Gold King shook his head.

Tactician's eyes saddened. "Because we took Fyren's money. Now I understand why the Three Kings rebelled. They encountered a force too powerful to resist, so they fled. Fyren is just their pawn in the city."

"What's the move?"

"Knock on the door."

"Whose door?"

Tactician smiled ruefully. "Knock on the door of someone we know."

Gold King strode to Fyren's door and rang the bell. No response. Channeling Zhen Qi, they focused—hearing running water and Chloe's giggles. Though muffled, it was clear the two were fooling around in the bathroom.

After a long wait, they heard Fyren arguing with a woman in the living room. They rang again.

"Who is it?" Fyren shouted through the door.

Tactician signaled Gold King, who whispered: "Gold King and Tactician, here to visit Fyren."

"Who?!"

"Gold King and Tactician, sir."

Fyren yanked the door open, stunned to see them. His mind went blank. Why are they back? Didn't I send them to find Herbert? He tensed, forcing down panic.

"Oh? Gold King? Tactician? What a coincidence."

His smile struck them as strange—mysterious.

"Ah... hehe." Tactician fidgeted. "Funny we're in the same hotel. Wanted to chat, but you were busy. Knew you were resting here, so we stopped by."

Fyren cursed inwardly:

[Bastards! Extortionists! "Stopped by"? If this scheme doesn't kill me, I'll learn the Great Sage's Tiger-Subduing Fist and pound you both!]

Aloud he said, "Well, come in."

Once inside, Fyren sensed something was off. Their demeanor had shifted entirely. Gold King stood sweating, smiling awkwardly—half-flattering, half-submissive. Tactician's usual arrogance was gone, replaced by a sincere, relaxed smile and clear eyes.

What's happening? I sneaked off to fool around, and they tracked me down? The Mighty Syndicate's tactics are no joke.

Fyren cleared his throat. "Chloe, we have guests. Bring a good bottle of wine."

"Right away." Chloe, already dressed, hurried out.

Fyren and Tactician sat, but Gold King remained standing behind Tactician, bowing slightly.

Fyren narrowed his eyes. Since when does Gold King stand around like a lackey?

I had his sworn brother in my grasp, and he'd been furious. If Tactician hadn't wanted to squeeze money from me, I'd be dead by now. So why was he acting so submissive today?

Fyren sensed a trap but couldn't pinpoint it. A master of improvisation, he acted nonchalant. "Mr. Tactician, is your stay comfortable?"

This casual question felt like a loaded gun to them. The subtext was clear: I've known you were here all along. I'm watching your every move. It also warned: I can make your stay pleasant—or deadly.

Tactician forced a smile. "Thanks to Fyren's hospitality, it's bearable."

"Good to hear." Fyren pressed on. "Let me upgrade your rooms. Something more luxurious?"

Tactician and Gold King exchanged a wary glance. Luxurious? Like a morgue?

"No need, really. This is fine."

Fyren nodded, still confused. "Contentment is key. What's a mansion but a temporary bed? In the end, we all end up in a little box."

Gold King nearly choked. Tactician's face fell. This wasn't small talk—this was a death threat.

Tactician bit his lip. "Fyren, we've wronged you before. Your magnanimity—"

"Hmph." Fyren cut in. "I'm no one special, just a fly compared to you. But there are forces even you can't afford to cross."

He meant Otto, but they misread him. So Fyren is just a pawn. The real power is someone else.

Tactician scrambled to agree. "In Crystalpeak, one must pay respects to those in charge."

Fyren sensed a shift but couldn't decode it. He paused, then burst into laughter. Taking his cue, they laughed awkwardly.

Chloe entered with wine. Fyren swirled his glass, thinking:

[They might strike any moment. Maybe offer more money? Survival is worth any price.]

"Let's get to business," he said.

"Finally!" Tactician leaned in.

Fyren smiled. "You came for money, didn't you?"

Tactician flushed. "Well... yes."

"Fifty billion not enough?"

With a sigh, Tactician pulled out the bank card, placing it on the table. "Returning it in full. Spare us, Fyren."

Fyren's smile vanished. What the hell is happening?