Chapter 182: Chapter Six: The Godfather of the Underworld

At this moment.

Tasiya took off her coat, lifted her crop top, and revealed the back of her waist; near the coccyx, implanted interfaces were visible—like the metal ports on bodies in The Matrix—three in total, aligned along the spine. Deng Ken saw only two, as removing more would expose everything.

“Mechanical nerve bundles.”

Tasiya shrugged. “The basic modifications of the Insight Sect.”

The day after Du Zeng stormed the Gao residence and slaughtered Gao Nietian’s entire family, the entire Shu Capital Fortress leadership was shaken. The Gao family, the foremost clan of the Shu Capital Fortress, vanished overnight. Without Gao Nietian’s protection, the remaining Gao collateral branches were utterly isolated.

Mu Yuchen bought her many clothes, but she didn’t intend to keep any. She packed her belongings, carried them downstairs, and left the villa’s keys on the living room coffee table. Qin Zimu bit her lip, scanning every visible spot—as if she could still see Mu Yuchen’s figure: arrogant, languid, rakish, elegant.

Qingyun sensed danger, had no way to break it, and could only pull Xiao Ruan’s bodies downward, diving straight into the lower Baobao Cave, hoping to use the cavern as their final refuge.

“You’re not even worthy of the title ‘local tyrant,’” snarled a suited giant.

Zhang Cheng gripped Long Cen’s hand and said cheerfully, “Hello, I’m Zhang Cheng, though I’m only the former captain of the Central Continent Team.” When Zhang Cheng returned to the Master God Space, he discovered he had lost his captain’s authority—he had clearly lost the position of Central Continent Team captain due to death.

Qiqi frowned, studying Mod Feier ’s photo. Memories rewound frame by frame, like watching a film—then suddenly, her gaze landed on Qin Zimu, filled with scrutiny.

He deliberately slowed his speech; when he finally uttered “Unforgivable,” it was as if the King of Hell had issued a soul-binding decree—the old man gasped, fell to the ground, and could no longer speak.

“Our goal now is to protect Mayor Wu’s safety at all costs! Understood?” Ding Wei’s gaze was cold and commanding.

The inn was indeed distinctive—a classical courtyard with a strong resemblance to the Qiao Family Compound, though only in appearance.

He stood with his back to me, unwilling to speak. I knew this wasn’t the right moment to talk.

Commander Li’s forces had multiplied: his army group commanded three corps and seven divisions, but all were irregular troops, no more combat-effective than the old Sichuan Army. The entire force numbered over thirty thousand, claimed to be sixty thousand, lacked weapons and ammunition, and had zero artillery.

Yun Jiyang fell silent again. In his heart, he truly didn’t want to manipulate or scheme against Qin Yiruo—but this matter had been a trap from the start, and now it seemed impossible to withdraw. If he pulled away, Qin Yiruo would be hurt. So he needed space to reflect inwardly.

Dugu Xinci had known the guards for four or five years; rolling up sleeves to drink and play dice wasn’t new to them. The guards were seasoned veterans, expert at dice games, and with their loud distractions, Dugu Xinci—though intelligent—could barely hold her own against eight at once.

Wen Liang didn’t believe his lies. Last night, to ensure enough sleep and energy, she had clearly pulled the old man to bed early and turned off the lights. Now she was full of energy—how could the old man possibly be exhausted?

But now, she increasingly saw the value of having dreams: she could diligently learn things that seemed unremarkable but proved crucial at the right moment, integrating them into herself until she realized, without noticing, how deeply she had absorbed them.

Meanwhile, many in the crowd gasped aloud, all staring at Ye Xing with shock—especially the several Void Spell Masters who had remembered him half a year ago; their astonishment was beyond words.