Chapter 82 Pressing Forward No Matter What

“Big Brother, there’s a letter from the New York Sanctum. They’re inviting us to join forces in eradicating some evil faction. The tone makes it sound like they’re giving us a chance to piggyback on their credit.”

A mage hurried into a room in the Hong Kong Sanctum, taking three steps at a time. Inside, a burly man was making offerings to a statue of Guan Yu.

“I’ve told you before, we’re mages now, not gangsters. Decades have passed, but you still haven’t changed these bad habits?” The burly man turned around, looking at his subordinate with a mix of exasperation and disappointment.

“Heh, it’s just a habit. I can’t shake it off. As long as I don’t do it in front of outsiders, it’s fine, right?” The subordinate grinned, knowing his boss secretly enjoyed the title, though the mages’ rules made it improper to say so openly. “Big Brother, so how should we respond?”

“They’re giving us a chance to share the credit? Those old relics, so arrogant just because they’ve lived a bit longer, would send us a gift? That’s impossible.” The man sank into his executive chair, running a hand through his thinning hair.

“I get it. I’ll go tell them to get lost!” The subordinate’s face lit up as if he’d had a revelation and spun around, letter in hand.

“Hold it right there!” The burly man rubbed his temples. His little brother was good at everything except thinking. In the old days as a low-ranking gangster, it wasn’t a big issue—just more likely to get killed by accident. But here in Kamar-Taj, such carelessness was dangerous; it could get you played and have you count other people’s money while you’re at it.

“On the surface, we’re still allies. Don’t tear the facade just yet.” The man got up and paced. “Here’s what you do: reply that unless there is a direct order from the Ancient One, we can’t leave the Hong Kong Sanctum. Tell them to get the Ancient One to issue a writ first.”

“Big Brother, speaking of which, has the Ancient One replied to us? Is what Lam Ching-ying wrote in the petition true?” the subordinate asked.

“No idea, but I’m inclined to believe it.” The big man’s expression showed clear dissatisfaction with the old Hong Kong Sanctum crowd. “You know what kind of people were here before our group joined Kamar-Taj. Never serious about their duties, always looking down on everyone else.”

“For the sake of their pride, I wouldn’t put it past them to conceal or cover things up.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m asking, is that Celestial Court in the petition real?” The subordinate lowered his voice. “If it is, I’d kind of like to go home. Even if I can’t become an immortal, being a cultivator among our own people wouldn’t be bad—not having to be bullied by outsiders.”

“How should I know?” The big man glared. He wanted the same, but until things became clear, he couldn’t act rashly. So much effort had gone into getting him to this position. If he just walked away, the leadership of the Hong Kong Sanctum would revert to those foreigners, and that would be a betrayal of principle.

Knock, knock, knock. Just then, the door was rapped.

The man signaled with a nod, and his subordinate went outside, spoke a few words, and returned with a sheet of paper.

“Big Brother, the Ancient One replied—it’s true! The Celestial Court really exists!” The subordinate was visibly excited.

Hearing the news confirmed, the big man’s brow furrowed even deeper. The situation in the Hong Kong Sanctum was dire. Though he was the nominal person in charge, most of the mages were still those old foreigners from the previous era. Lately, they’d grown so arrogant they were even defying the Ancient One herself. Now, with this scandal breaking, there were sure to be those plotting in the shadows.

“Go out and meet Lam Ching-ying yourself. Don’t say too much—just update him on our situation. He’ll understand.” The man instructed.

“Yes, sir!”

The subordinate opened a portal and disappeared.

The big man crossed his legs and sat for over half an hour before the door was flung open.

Each Sanctum had two leaders: a primary and a deputy. He was the primary leader of the Hong Kong Sanctum; the deputy was a holdover from the old foreign crowd.

“Shi Chengzhong, where did your lackey go?” The foreigner burst in, demanding an answer upon seeing only one person inside.

“Where he goes is none of your business,” Shi Chengzhong replied coolly, sipping his tea.

“I’m telling you—bring him back right now! You’re betraying the entire Sanctum!” The foreigner slammed the table, shouting aggressively.

“Is that how you speak to your superior?” Shi Chengzhong set his teacup down slowly, fixing his gaze on the foreigner.

“You? A superior? Let me tell you, people like you were born a rung below us. Don’t think that lucking into a leadership role makes you my equal. Apologize right now and bring your lackey back, or don’t blame me for what happens next!” the foreigner roared.

Shi Chengzhong stood up, his eyes blazing. The foreigner was unfazed; he’d seen this posture before and expected Shi to back down like he always did.

Swish!

Shi Chengzhong flashed in front of the foreigner, conjuring a pair of gauntlets on his fists, and threw a heavy punch.

The foreigner reacted quickly, conjuring a golden arm-shield with his right hand to block the blow.

Bang!

The foreigner was sent flying across the room. Instantly, his entourage surrounded Shi Chengzhong.

“If you want a fight, I’m always ready.” Shi cracked his knuckles, staring through the crowd at the foreigner, who had braced himself against the wall with one foot. “Control your own people. As long as I’m here, the Hong Kong Sanctum answers to me.”

“In Hong Kong, subordinates don’t talk back to their superiors. Understood?”

“Fine, fine! I’d like to see how you maintain stability around here without us.” The foreigner straightened, his arm still trembling from the impact. In terms of raw strength, he was no match for Shi Chengzhong; otherwise, Shi wouldn’t have been able to hold his position despite having less influence.

With a final threat, the foreigner led his people out. Outside, two lines of fully armed mages were already standing at attention—all authentic Chinese, Hong Kong’s own mages. Though fewer in number than the foreigners, with Shi Chengzhong at the helm, their presence dominated.

“Master, they’re probably going to strike. What should we do?” After the foreigner left, a Chinese mage approached Shi Chengzhong, speaking softly.

“I told you to learn the key techniques from every department—how’s the progress?” Shi asked calmly.

“For the most part, we’re ready to cover. Only the magical web’s inspection segment is still lacking.”

“Then make do. Improvise if you have to, but hold the line! Hong Kong belongs to China. I refuse to go begging them to return. Understand?!”

“Understood!”