Chapter Eighty-Two: No Joking

Gao Wu claimed the championship of the Xuetao Cup, shattering records and becoming the first young winner in fifty years. This achievement made him the pride of Dongjiang’s youth and earned him the admiration of many.

Yet Shang Zhenglin was different. He valued Gao Wu not for the title, but for the courage, decisiveness, and tenacity Gao Wu displayed in the final. Many things shape a person’s destiny—family, luck, talent—but above all are temperament and wisdom. Temperament can be forged, wisdom can be cultivated; these are the foundations a person can change after birth.

Gao Wu possessed a fierce determination by nature, a sharp mind, and a gift for martial arts. Shang Zhenglin believed Gao Wu was destined for greatness. Because of this judgment, Shang Zhenglin treated Gao Wu with special care.

When Gao Wu confessed to killing Wan Cangsong, Shang Zhenglin’s blood pressure soared, veins bulging at his temples. As a supervisor of the Hunter Association, Shang Zhenglin had met Wan Cangsong twice. He knew Wan was a junior warrior, gloomy in temperament, rumored to be ruthless in private, with a notorious reputation.

But whatever Wan’s character, he was a true warrior! How could Gao Wu, just a martial artist, possibly kill Wan Cangsong? Shang Zhenglin felt his intelligence insulted.

Gao Wu saw Shang Zhenglin’s skepticism. He took two golden Thunder Eagle pistols from his backpack and placed them on the table.

Shang Zhenglin’s gaze sharpened; he recognized these guns. On this mission, Wan Cangsong had them strapped to his tactical belt. These custom Thunder Eagles were forged from nano-fiber memory alloy and diamond crystal dust. Diamond crystal, a rare mineral from other realms, endowed the pistols with a pure golden hue and the ability to channel Source Force. The nano-fiber alloy, a pinnacle of technology, could repair minor damage automatically. Both materials were exorbitantly expensive, making these weapons worth millions.

Few warriors could afford such luxury, and even fewer would use them. Of course, the price matched their practical value. Weighing 5.5 kilograms, the Thunder Eagle was sturdy; it served as a long-range weapon and, when channeling Source Force, as a formidable melee weapon.

Shang Zhenglin examined one, feeling its weight and the restrained golden sheen. The gun exuded quality and a sense of security. With a touch of Source Force, he connected with its mechanisms, sensing its internal structure and status. The bullets were too fast for Source Force to imbue them, but the weapon itself could be empowered for close combat.

Thus, while the Thunder Eagle had practical value, it was more a symbol of luxury. Ordinary warriors earned millions a year, but expenses consumed most of it—they could never afford such weapons. Only those like Wan Cangsong, with illicit income, could indulge.

After confirming their authenticity, Shang Zhenglin sighed. He almost hoped Gao Wu was joking. Wan Cangsong was a Hunter Association supervisor; the Wan family held great power in Yunling City. Whatever Gao Wu’s reason for killing him, it spelled trouble.

Shang Zhenglin composed himself. Gao Wu was, after all, like family, coming to him for help. He had to intervene. Gathering his thoughts, he asked, “What happened, exactly?”

Gao Wu shook his head. “I’d just set up camp and was about to rest when Wan Cangsong came, bringing others. Without warning, he attacked me. I fought back and killed them.”

“Them?” Shang Zhenglin’s eyes widened. “There were others?”

“Yes—two more from the Wan family,” Gao Wu confirmed.

Seeing Shang Zhenglin’s confusion, Gao Wu hurriedly produced his phone. “I have a video as evidence.”

He had contacted Song Mingyue, but with such a grave matter, he needed Shang Zhenglin’s counsel.

If he didn’t speak beforehand, Shang Zhenglin would surely cut ties afterward, perhaps even become his enemy. He trusted Shang Zhenglin, not because of their family connection, but because Shang was a Dongjiang native and unlikely to be entangled with Wan Cangsong.

Another reason: Shang Zhenglin was somewhat poor. This was clear from his attire and gear—poor, at least compared to other warriors. If he were colluding with Wan, he wouldn’t be so impoverished. Doing evil without profit—what would be the point? Aside from a few born sociopaths, most wrongdoers act for gain.

Song Mingyue had also assured him that Shang Zhenglin was trustworthy. When Song Chunqiu purged Dongjiang’s Demon God cultists, all senior members were eliminated. If Shang Zhenglin were suspect, he wouldn’t have survived.

Shang Zhenglin didn’t consider all this. He played the video, watched it once, stunned, then again, still bewildered, and again...

The video was very brief, less than twenty seconds from Gao Wu’s confrontation to Wan Cangsong and his companions’ deaths. It was clear: Wan Cangsong ignored warnings and lunged ferociously, Gao Wu fired without hesitation. Wan struck Gao Wu, shaking the camera and scattering debris, obscuring the lens. In that instant, Gao Wu retaliated. Four shots, and Wan Cangsong was dead. The other two were insignificant.

Crucially, Wan Cangsong seemed to suddenly lose his senses, failing to use his Source Force shield, and was killed outright.

Shang Zhenglin replayed the video dozens of times, unable to discern what had gone wrong. He looked at Gao Wu, who replied with an honest, sheepish grin.

Shang Zhenglin understood—Gao Wu would not reveal the details. It must be his secret technique!

For a martial artist to easily kill a warrior—it overturned Shang Zhenglin’s understanding of martial arts.

He sat in silence for a long while before saying, “You have your reasons. But this is Yunling, Wan family territory. I must inform the president.

Only she can keep Wan Canglong in check and prevent escalation.”

Gao Wu nodded repeatedly. Shang Zhenglin’s report was his duty. Song Mingyue was unrelated to the Hunter Association, so Gao Wu saw no need to mention her.

He trusted Song Mingyue’s intelligence—not to involve outsiders in Hunter Association affairs.

Shang Zhenglin comforted Gao Wu, “Wan Cangsong attacked you without provocation; his death is his own fault. Rest assured, we won’t let you suffer. Go rest for now.”

“By the way, Uncle, they brought some equipment—I’m not sure what it’s for.” Gao Wu showed him photos he’d taken.

“That’s... a low-temperature transport case?” Shang Zhenglin was unsure, but recalled rumors about the Wan family trafficking organs and human genes. It fit.

So, they targeted Gao Wu for his genes?

Shang Zhenglin frowned. The Wan family’s methods were truly vile.

He said sternly to Gao Wu, “The Wan family may be powerful in Yunling, but they are insignificant before the Hunter Association.”

Wan Cangsong’s actions were possible only because he abused his position as supervisor.

Most importantly, Gao Wu had video proof, clearing his name. Wan Cangsong died in vain.

Shang Zhenglin was confident. If it were a lone madman, anything might happen—but the vast Wan family knew the stakes. Privately they might do as they liked, but publicly, they had to follow the rules.

Gao Wu was reassured. He carefully put away the Thunder Eagles—won at the risk of his life, he would never part with them.

The Hunter Association regularly held evaluations in this virtual realm. The camp consisted of semi-permanent wooden barracks, forming a large quadrangular courtyard.

The northern row, facing south, backed onto the entrance, with larger rooms and bright windows for staff.

The remaining three rows housed trainee hunters. Gao Wu found his assigned room; his personal belongings were still there.

He returned, took out a pile of energy bars, and devoured them with hot water. After dozens, his stomach felt bloated and he stopped.

Wan Cangsong’s blow had likely injured his stomach—eating energy bars made him uncomfortable.

He wiped blood from his face and neck with a towel, fiddled with the Thunder Eagles, then holstered them under his arms. He placed his sword beside his pillow and sank into deep sleep.

The chime of Feixin woke him. His peaceful, deep repose instantly dissipated.

When he opened his eyes, his mind was clear. He didn’t check his phone immediately, but focused on his body.

There was still a dull ache in his chest, but otherwise he was nearly fully recovered, feeling energetic.

Satisfied, he checked his phone—Song Mingyue messaged that she had arrived.

It was five in the morning; darkness still blanketed the world. The room lacked heating, the temperature about minus ten degrees.

Climbing from his sleeping bag, Gao Wu felt invigorated.

He washed his face with snow outside, straightened his collar and buttons, and, sword in hand, strode toward the lit barracks.

Before he could knock, Song Mingyue opened the door and whispered, “Inside is Shen Ning, President Shen—my second aunt.”

Gao Wu was astonished and delighted. Xiao Song’s connections were truly impressive! But why hadn’t she mentioned this before, when he’d gone to the Hunter Association? He’d spent so much money, with no internal discounts...

Inside, Gao Wu saw Shen Ning seated at the head. Her eyes were narrow, her expression stern, early forties, clad in a black, wide-sleeved coat.

She looked severe, efficient, powerful—a strong aura of authority.

Before Gao Wu could speak, Shang Zhenglin introduced, “Gao Wu, this is President Shen Ning of the Dongjiang Hunter Association.”

“President Shen,” Gao Wu nodded politely. As an eighteen-year-old student, excessive deference would seem insincere, so he kept it simple.

Shen Ning said nothing, but studied Gao Wu closely.

She had watched his championship video and knew his online fame. More importantly, Gao Wu was very close to Mingyue—a closeness that made her, as an aunt, a little jealous.

Since Mingyue turned ten, even with Du Ruolan, she kept her distance. She had never been so intimate with anyone.

She had to admit, Gao Wu was indeed handsome—over six feet tall, lean and upright, muscular and strong.

Most importantly, he radiated the vitality unique to youth, like the rising sun, an energy that was truly infectious.

No wonder Mingyue liked him; he was a remarkable young man. To defeat a warrior as a martial artist proved his extraordinary skill.

Shen Ning had watched the video repeatedly, yet couldn't discern how Gao Wu breached Wan Cangsong’s Source Force shield.

An eighteen-year-old warrior was rare, but not unheard of in the North. An eighteen-year-old martial artist defeating a warrior—she had never heard of such a thing!

Even with the video, it felt unreal. Gao Wu’s talent was extraordinary.

A gift for breaking Source Force shields meant Gao Wu threatened all warriors—a remarkable feat, and a sign of a bright future.

Moreover, this young man was not as sunny and straightforward as he appeared. Beneath his cheerful exterior, he was fierce and deeply inscrutable.

Shen Ning hesitated. Mingyue, though cold and meticulous, was actually quite simple-minded—exactly the opposite of Gao Wu.

If Mingyue stayed with Gao Wu, it might not be for the best...