Chapter 316: Only Break Them, Don

Hearing this question.

Zhang Han, who had been silently filling out forms beside him, also perked up his ears.

Fang Wen sneered.

"Hmph."

"The news spread fast, didn't it?"

Then he looked at his cousin and said calmly:

"That's right."

"Yan Lie really does plan to do it."

Hearing his cousin's confirmation firsthand,

Zhao Peng's heart rose again.

Though he was a spoiled rich kid with no discipline, he still understood a bit of the Youth Association's rules.

"Cousin…"

Zhao Peng looked at Fang Wen with concern.

"I heard that to become president of the Youth Association, you usually have to fight every single councilor and senior member…"

"You…"

Hearing Zhao Peng's words,

Fang Wen rolled his eyes.

"Save your unnecessary worries for yourself!"

After scolding Zhao Peng,

Fang Wen's expression turned serious.

"I admit."

"Lin Mo's talent is unprecedented and will never be matched."

"In the future, he will surely be the anchor of our Dragon Nation."

"But…"

Fang Wen changed tone.

"Talent is talent, combat power is combat power—these are two different things."

"In the Youth Association, they don't care about potential—they only care about fists!"

As he spoke, an aura erupted from Fang Wen's body.

"I respect Lin Mo's talent, I respect his achievements."

"But to become president? He's not qualified yet."

Fang Wen let out a heavy snort.

Hearing his cousin's words,

Zhao Peng paused, then still felt uneasy:

"But cousin…"

"I heard Yan Lie, the president, lost to him…"

Hearing this,

Fang Wen sneered.

"Yan Lie?"

"That's just him too proud to admit defeat."

Fang Wen sneered dismissively.

"Too ashamed to use his higher level to bully someone, so he voluntarily lowered his own stats to match Lin Mo's level."

"That's his own stupidity."

"Whose level wasn't earned through hard work?"

"Level is part of strength."

"If Lin Mo truly wants to be president, he must defeat all of us at full strength and make us submit with real power."

Hearing his cousin's words,

Zhao Peng's eyes lit up.

So that's it!

That's how it is!

No wonder!

I knew it!

President Yan Lie is a top-tier 65-level powerhouse—how could he possibly lose to a freshman?

So Yan Lie, the president, was just too proud to win fairly and held back!

Voluntarily lowering his stats to fight?

Isn't that like cutting off his own arms?

Zhao Peng frantically calculated in his mind.

If his cousin doesn't hold back,

if his cousin doesn't hold back,

and fights at full strength, how could Lin Mo possibly win?

Absolutely impossible!

Thinking of this,

Zhao Peng straightened his back again.

"Cousin's right!"

"If they fight honestly,"

"he's no match for you!"

Zhao Peng's eyes gleamed.

Today, in front of his goddess, he'd been humiliated repeatedly.

He desperately wanted to regain some dignity.

If Lin Mo got publicly beaten by his cousin, wouldn't he be able to stand tall again in front of Zhang Han?

After all, that's his cousin!

His cousin's strength is also his strength!

"Um… cousin."

Zhao Peng lowered his voice.

"When you hold the meeting to elect the president,"

"can I… come watch?"

"I want to see with my own eyes how you unleash your power!"

Fang Wen glanced at Zhao Peng.

Looking at his useless cousin's expression, he sneered inwardly.

Still,

he didn't care.

This demonstration of authority was meant to be seen by everyone anyway.

"Do as you like."

Fang Wen waved his hand.

"Come if you want."

"It'll do you good to gain some perspective."

"See what a real showdown between powerful opponents looks like."

"Stop acting like a frog at the bottom of a well and embarrassing yourself."

With that, he spoke.

Fang Wen didn't linger—he turned and walked out of the reception room.

Watching his cousin's broad, imposing back vanish beyond the door,

Zhao Peng excitedly clenched his fist.

"Yes!"

He turned to face Zhang Han.

"Zhang Han!"

"Did you hear that?"

Zhao Peng lifted his chin triumphantly.

"My cousin said it!"

"Lin Mo isn't qualified to become president yet!"

"Everything before was just people letting him win!"

Zhao Peng straightened his slightly disheveled name-tagged coat.

Let's go, we'll go see the spectacle too!

Zhang Han frowned slightly.

Seeing Zhao Peng's obnoxious, bullying demeanor, she felt a wave of nausea.

A dog can't change its habit of eating shit.

But.

Zhang Han did not refuse.

Alright.

Let's go see.

She had a gut feeling.

Lin Mo's cold, composed face, that calm indifference toward Zhao Peng, toward everything.

It couldn't be faked.

It was absolute confidence.

A man who walked alone into the Ten Nations Battlefield and slaughtered the top prodigies of seven nations without mercy.

Could he possibly be a paper tiger who only wins because others let him?

…

Youth Association Building.

A massive two-story structure.

Yan Lie led Lin Mo to the end of the corridor.

He pushed open a heavy door.

Lin Mo scanned the surroundings.

It was an extremely spacious room—almost enormous.

Or rather, it didn't resemble a conference room at all.

The entire space was circular.

Around it, rows of tiered seats rose upward.

Each seat had a table in front of it.

On each table sat a microphone and several red-and-green voting buttons.

In the center of the circular seating area,

was a vast circular open space.

It looked like both a conference hall and a fighting arena.

"This is the Youth Association's highest deliberation hall."

Yan Lie walked ahead and introduced it.

"Whenever the Youth Association makes major decisions or important personnel appointments,"

"they're held here."

Lin Mo's gaze settled on the large open space in the center.

"Deliberation hall?"

Lin Mo chuckled lightly, teasing.

"Why leave such a huge empty space in the middle?"

"What?"

"When meetings get boring, do you just fight?"

Hearing Lin Mo's tease,

Yan Lie burst into laughter.

"Hahaha!"

"You're right—but not entirely."

Yan Lie walked ahead, speaking calmly.

"The Youth Association,"

"is made up of the top young prodigies from all over Long Country."

"We're all young."

"Proud, fiery, none of us willing to yield."

"During meetings, disagreements inevitably arise. If words can't convince each other, no one backs down."

"So what do you do?"

Yan Lie tapped the railing.

"Simple. Fight."

Listening to Yan Lie's explanation,

Lin Mo's eyes flickered with approval.

Very straightforward.

I like it.

This rule—solve it with fists, not words—is far better than the backstabbing and scheming in offices.

Let's go.

Yan Lie led Lin Mo all the way to the highest point of the circular chamber.

It was the main seat, symbolizing the Youth Association's supreme authority.

"Sit down, President Lin."

Yan Lie pulled out the chair himself.

Lin Mo looked at the main seat and chuckled.

"Already calling me that?"

Then, without further ceremony, he sat down.

Immediately after,

Yan Lie said:

"I've arranged your registration paperwork. You're all set—just step into your role."

"Thanks for the trouble, Secretary Yan."

Lin Mo replied casually.

Yan Lie laughed.

"No, no—don't call me Secretary Yan anymore. From now on, I'll call you President Lin."

"No big deal—we're bros!"

Lin Mo clapped Yan Lie on the shoulder and grinned.

Yan Lie gave a light laugh, then turned serious.

"Lin Mo."

"I feel like a fight's inevitable."

"But don't kill anyone, alright?"

"They're arrogant, sure—but they're good people. All of us are from Long Country. Don't kill them."

Watching Yan Lie's anxious expression,

Lin Mo couldn't help laughing.

"Relax."

"I know my limits."

"I only knock them out. I don't kill them."