Silence lingered in the banquet hall after the verdict.

  Now what?

  I stood there with that question echoing in my head as Huang Yong waved his sleeve dismissively. “Take the criminal away and detain him,” he said, his voice cold and devoid of hesitation.

  Two disciples from the Dragon Heart Sect stepped forward and dragged the sobbing Huang Long away. The young man struggled weakly, his cries echoing as he was pulled toward the exit. I watched them go, my expression unreadable behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses.

  At first glance, it almost seemed merciful.

  They were not executing him. They were not parading him through the streets. He would be confined, most likely to his quarters or a guarded section of the guest residence. No chains. No public humiliation beyond what had already occurred.

  I frowned inwardly.

  So that was it.

  Despite his ruthlessness, Huang Yong had still chosen a path that preserved his Sect’s dignity. By personally crippling his nephew and severing ties with him, he had ensured that no external force could further exploit the situation. Huang Long would live, but as a broken man, stripped of cultivation and status, hidden away where his existence would not stain the Dragon Heart Sect any further.

  It was efficient and cruel to the bone.

  I revised my earlier thought almost immediately. Huang Yong had not protected his nephew. He had sacrificed him cleanly, with minimum loss and maximum control. He had not even attempted to argue for a lighter punishment. Words could have been twisted. Testimonies could have been framed. Cultivators were not strangers to bending truth.

  But he had chosen finality instead.

  I couldn’t help but think back to my old world, when I was streaming, and dealing with trolls who hid behind screens and anonymity. I had always tried to talk them down first, to deescalate, to give them a chance to walk away before I swung the ban hammer.

  It was easy to claim moral high ground when consequences were abstract.

  Only when you were placed in the same position did your true nature reveal itself.

  If I were Huang Yong, would I have acted differently?

  I didn’t know.

  “Tonight’s banquet has been thoroughly soured,” Huang Yong said flatly. “I will excuse myself and return to my quarters.”

  His gaze shifted toward me.

  It was brief, sharp, and heavy with undisguised hostility.

  I swallowed.

  [Huang Yong][Health: 92%]

  My eye twitched behind the lenses.

  What kind of ridiculous recovery rate was that?

  I had landed two special moves on him. In any reasonable metric, that should have hurt badly. Yet here he stood, his aura steady, his presence oppressive, and his vitality almost fully restored.

  I had underestimated him.

  No, worse. I had underestimated what a [Level 290] cultivator truly meant.

  The disciples around him stirred, immediately gathering at his side. A low murmur passed through them as they prepared to leave, their expressions dark and restrained. One by one, the Dragon Heart Sect members rose from their seats, following their elder without another word.

  In moments, an entire section of the banquet hall was left empty.

  All eyes were on me.

  …This was awkward.

  I seriously considered pretending I hadn’t noticed and walking backward out of the pavilion. Unfortunately, that option had sailed the moment I beat a Dragon Heart in public.

  Alright. Fine. Role-play mode.

  Back on Earth, I earned my daily bread through streaming. That meant dealing with pressure, attention, and situations where thousands of eyes were waiting for you to screw up. Over time, I’d picked up a surprisingly wide array of talents to survive that line of work.

  Role-playing was one of them.

  And in a world like this, where posturing could mean the difference between survival and a shallow grave, it came disturbingly naturally.

  I cupped my fist and bowed slightly toward the man seated at the head of the pavilion. “Lord Meng,” I said respectfully, “this one thanks you for your fair judgment. If it pleases you, I wish to excuse myself and my companions. We have already caused enough disturbance in this banquet.”

  Before Meng Wu could respond, a clear voice cut in.

  “Since a table has been vacated,” Meng Rong said calmly as she stepped forward, “surely the lord would not mind if you and your companions took those seats and joined the banquet.”

  I blinked.

  Meng Wu hesitated, his mouth opening as if to object, but Meng Rong pressed on without giving him space to speak.

  “After all,” she continued, her tone composed yet firm, “such a heroic act should not go unacknowledged. Moreover, one of their companions is injured. It would be far more appropriate for him to be examined by a physician under the lord’s care rather than leaving matters unfinished.”

  Her gaze flicked briefly toward Jia Bao.

  I followed it.

  Despite the band-aid I had slapped onto him, courtesy of a rather gimmicky item, he still looked pale and unsteady. In truth, having him checked properly was the sensible option.

  I exhaled slowly and nodded.

  I cupped my fist once more. “This one thanks the lord for his generosity. We will accept your hospitality and place ourselves in your care.”

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  Meng Wu’s expression smoothed out almost instantly, the practiced ease of a seasoned official returning to his face. “I am always eager to make friends with new faces,” he said warmly. “After all, it is far better to have friends than enemies.”

  He gestured toward the empty tables. “Please, take a seat. Leave the injured young man to my attendants. He will be brought to the infirmary at once.”

  Meng Rong clapped her hands softly.

  At her signal, servants moved efficiently. Plates were changed, wine replaced, and attendants began ushering the remaining onlookers, those Teng Wen had dragged over from the Red Ember Inn, out of the pavilion.

  I watched their disappointed faces as they were led away, curiosity and frustration written plainly across their expressions.

  “Lord Meng,” I called out quickly, cupping my fist again, “if it is not too much to ask, I would appreciate it if the friends I made at the Red Ember Inn could remain and join our table. It would ease the hearts of this one and his companions.”

  Meng Wu studied me for a brief moment, then nodded. “Very well.”

  Additional chairs were brought in.

  Jia Bao was gently lifted by an attendant and carried away toward the infirmary. As he disappeared from view, martial artists and cultivators from across the Earthly Seal Domain took their seats around me.

  Tao Fang and Tao Yu settled in on either side of me, subtly positioning themselves like a barrier. I appreciated the gesture more than I let on.

  One by one, the people at our table offered their respects.

  “Brother Yakuza has keen foresight.”

  “Thank you for allowing us to stay.”

  “That was truly righteous conduct earlier.”

  Each praise made me sink a little deeper into my seat.

  I felt embarrassed.

  The truth was far less noble. I hadn’t suggested it out of generosity or magnanimity. I had simply thought it would look absurd and dangerous for me and my small group to occupy an entire table originally meant for the Dragon Heart Sect.

  Strength in numbers. Optics. Survival. Yeah, all that stuff.

  Lord Meng cleared his throat and forced a genial smile, though the strain around his eyes betrayed him.

  “I feel ill at ease that this banquet did not proceed smoothly,” he said, his voice carrying through the pavilion. “Still, incidents have already occurred, and I do not believe that means we cannot enjoy what remains of the evening.”

  Zhu Shufen coughed softly. She pressed a hand to her lips, her complexion suddenly pale as she swayed just enough to draw attention. “My lord,” she said weakly, “I fear I may not be feeling well.”

  I frowned.

  Her status hovered clearly in my vision.

  [Health: 100%]

  There were neither debufss nor status effects.

  From everything I understood about how YKU logic translated into this world, if she were truly unwell, something should have shown. Which meant only one thing.

  She was acting.

  Meng Wu’s expression tightened with concern, real or otherwise. “My apologies, honored guests,” he said quickly. “It seems my wife is unwell. I must retire with her for the evening.”

  He turned toward Meng Rong. “Rong’er, I leave matters here to you. As my only kin present, I bestow upon you the authority of this lord for the remainder of the night.”

  That caused a visible ripple.

  Before anyone could protest, Meng Wu and Zhu Shufen departed together, their exit swift and decisive. The moment they were gone, I could practically feel the unease spreading among the remaining sect representatives.

  I leaned slightly toward Tao Fang. “What can you tell me about the other sects?”

  He lowered his voice. “My knowledge of sects beyond the Earthly Seal Domain is limited,” he admitted, “but these two are famous enough even for someone like me to recognize. The Boulder Path Sect, and the Phantasm Star Sect.”

  Before I could ask more, Meng Rong stepped forward.

  Her presence alone seemed to sharpen the air.

  “Since you have all come to Xincheng with intent,” she said coolly, her voice ringing with authority, “then I suggest you act upon it instead of wasting time on useless theatrics.”

  The pavilion fell into near silence.

  Even the cultivators at my table stiffened, their earlier chatter dying instantly.

  Meng Rong’s gaze hardened. “Let me make one thing clear. If anything were to happen to my younger brother,” she said, her tone dangerously calm, “I will not hesitate to destroy your sects if I must grind them down to the bone.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  Two cultivators from each remaining sect were around her level, yet she spoke as if that fact were irrelevant. Either she was bluffing on a suicidal scale, or she possessed backing so terrifying that numbers meant nothing.

  I made a mental note to stay as far out of her way as humanly possible.

  She turned and walked directly toward our table.

  Her eyes locked onto mine.

  I frowned instinctively.

  Around me, I felt the shift immediately. People straightened, eyes softening, expressions warming unnaturally as they gazed at her. A quick glance revealed the truth.

  [Status: Charmed]

  Above nearly everyone’s head.

  Ah.

  So that was it.

  A bitter realization struck me. Had she used the same trick back in the library?

  I suppressed a grimace.

  This woman was truly dangerous.

  Thankfully, Yakuza Man’s resistances were high enough, bolstered further by the status resistance woven into my clothes. Whatever she was doing slid off me like water over oil.

  Meng Rong noticed.

  Her lips clicked in irritation as her eyes narrowed, just for a fraction of a second.

  Without another word, she turned away. “You are free to eat as you please,” she said dismissively. “I will be retiring.”

  She left the pavilion, her steps unhurried.

  Only after she was gone did the tension ease.

  Beside me, Tao Fang finally exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “What… just happened?” he asked quietly. “Did a fairy just passed by?”

  I ignored him.

  The banquet continued, though any sense of celebration had long since evaporated.

  I had expected the atmosphere to loosen once the Dragon Heart Sect withdrew, but instead, it grew stranger. Cultivators from other tables kept casting glances in our direction. It felt less like a feast and more like being observed through a glass enclosure.

  At our table, the mood was cautious. People rose one by one to approach the main table in the center, where the roasted pig and the more extravagant dishes were displayed, moving as if they were walking on eggshells. No one lingered for long.

  I decided not to bother. The food already on our table was more than enough.

  I was well aware of the eyes on me.

  Tao Yu soon returned from the central table, carefully balancing a plate before setting it in front of me. It was piled generously with slices of roasted meat, assorted vegetables, pure white rice topped with olive greens, and a neatly portioned sweet-and-sour fish.

  “The pig is actually a spirit beast,” she said earnestly. “It was nurtured with spirit mushrooms, so it contains vital qi.”

  “That so?” I replied, glancing at the food with mild surprise.

  Tao Fang leaned forward. “And where is mine?”

  Without hesitation, Tao Yu handed her grandfather a plate of carrots, broccoli, and various leafy greens.

  I winced internally.

  “You’re getting old, Grandfather,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s better for you to eat healthier food. Too much meat will be bad for your digestion.”

  Tao Fang stared at the plate in silence.

  I suddenly felt bad for the old man.

  Before I could offer him some of my meat, a shadow fell across our table.

  A muscular man in yellow robes stood before us, his posture relaxed but solid, like a mountain that had decided to walk. He cupped his fist politely.

  “Dong Li of the Boulder Path Sect,” he introduced himself.

  [Dong Li][Level 255]

  The number made my shoulders tense.

  In YKU, players were capped at Level 100 while mobs scaled absurdly high. With the cap removed here, I felt marginally safer than before, but being confronted by someone more than twice my level still made my instincts scream caution.

  I returned the gesture. “Yakuza Man.”

  Dong Li studied me openly, without pretense. “What faction are you from?”

  “I’m a free spirit,” I replied.

  He nodded once, as if that answer made perfect sense to him. “Then you should join our sect.”

  I blinked.

  Wow. He really was that straightforward.

  “I appreciate the offer,” I said carefully, “but I must respectfully refuse.”

  I didn’t bother dancing around the issue. From his demeanor alone, I could tell eloquence or self-deprecation would only complicate things.

  Murmurs rippled around our table.

  “Incredible,” someone whispered.

  “To be invited by the Boulder Path Sect…”

  “And to refuse so calmly…”

  I raised my voice slightly. “I have no desire to walk the path of cultivation.”

  Dong Li reached out and gave my shoulder a firm tap, more companionable than threatening, yet heavy enough to remind me of his strength.

  “That isn’t for you to decide,” he said.

  My heart sank.

  Oh shit. Was he coercing me?

  Lord Meng and Meng Rong were gone. There was no authority here to serve as an equalizer, and no convenient honor-bound restraint to defuse the situation. I glanced briefly toward the Phantasm Star Sect table, but they were watching with clear interest, like spectators awaiting a performance.

  Ugh.

  I sighed inwardly. It seemed I would have to bite the bullet.

  “I apologize,” I said, cupping my fist once more. “I truly wish to live a reclusive life.”

  Dong Li cut me off with a grin. “Then it’s simple.”

  He straightened and looked at me squarely.

  “Beat me in a spar,” he said, “and I’ll let you go.”