Puhai, Old Sluice Gate Police Station.
"You were beaten this badly by a single yellow-skinned monkey?"
Mr. Albert, chief inspector of the British Commonwealth Concession and a distant relative of the royal bloodline, was furious.
The Indians summoned to Xinghan as constables lay before him with broken hands and legs, bruised and swollen faces, and flattened noses. They were as limp as their curry mush, groaning conspicuously on the ground like stinking horse manure trampled into the road.
"Sir, that wasn't an ordinary yellow-skinned monkey. That was a yellow-skinned monkey capable of sinking warships."
"He's Hanuman! The Son of the Wind God!"
"Mortal guns can't catch a god. Hanuman could vanish with the wind at any moment, and when he appeared again, he'd be right beside us! Forgive us, Hanuman!"
Hanuman, the monkey god of Indian mythology.
The Indian constables had mistaken Huo Yuanjia for Lan Yi.
The Indian constable with a red cloth wrapped around his head opened his mouth, and the smell of curry came pouring out. The scent was so strong that even his English twisted and wormed its way out of his mouth. The old white man Albert had to ask several times before he could barely understand what this black, stupid gorilla was saying.
Damn it. These Indians were just as low in intelligence, lustful, and useless as their distant African relatives.
Albert cursed viciously inwardly, his eyes practically spitting fire.
For this distant royal relative to sit in the position of chief inspector, he naturally wasn't a fool.
He had never expected this pack of lowly monkeys to bring the target back. A dangerous entity capable of sinking ironclad warships and flying freely through the sky was not something Indian monkeys could handle.
But the fact that these monkeys were so useless they couldn't even bring back a single scrap of useful intelligence was enough to make anyone's seven orifices smoke with rage.
Mr. Albert selectively ignored the fact that a squad of pure-blooded British Commonwealth lads had also been present, and that they had been just as useless and worthless.
"Cheer up, Albert. Just treat it as a bit of fun."
Beside him, a bearded white man in full military dress carefully wiped the saber in his hand. He had once used that saber to hack apart many heads with queues, and those heads had filled him with reverence.
"Colonel Kent, if Downing Street comes after you, you can happily treat it as fun. But your uncle, our dear Secretary to the Prime Minister, will definitely come visit me with a whip."
Albert drew a deep breath and added irritably, "After I've been dismissed and sent home!"
"Either way, the ship has sunk. Those annoying Junkers and French Flag Country ships sank even more." Kent shook his head mockingly. His saber was almost clean.
"...Hmm. Put that way, it really does count as fun."
The British Commonwealth hated the French Flag Country the most.
Whether it was the long, distant blood-soaked wars of the past or the later French Flag Country king's aid bought with heads, both had left the British Commonwealth deeply resentful. As for the Junkers, that was entirely because the grand feast to come required it.
So when Albert thought of them suffering just as he had, his mood suddenly improved considerably.
"Widely experienced Colonel Kent, what do you think could possibly fly through the sky?"
Albert's question made the calm and carefree Kent furrow his brow.
This expert had traveled across multiple continents and fought black natives, Indian warriors, Yin warriors, and Fist Cult holy men. He was also an expert in resolving native problems in the concession, a brutal executioner with blood covering his hands—and he truly had never seen a superlife-form capable of flying through the sky, releasing thunder, and blasting ironclad warships to the bottom of the sea.
Colonel Kent had seen things science could not explain before.
When he had posed as an explorer hunting in the African continent, he had encountered super anacondas, terrifying giant crocodiles, and witch doctors capable of performing a few little tricks.
Those adorable little rats really could cause a bit of trouble when people weren't paying attention.
But the moment the guns and cannons roared, they all died horribly.
This Thunder Angel who had suddenly appeared in the Far East was simply absurd. Guns and cannons had no effect on him, and he seemed capable of creating other supernatural beings as well.
"Perhaps an extraterrestrial visitor." Kent's offhand fabrication came remarkably close to the truth.
"Why would an extraterrestrial help these yellow-skinned monkeys?"
"Because he's in a very good mood—or a very bad one? When I was hunting in the Amazon, I watched cannibals slaughter one another. Depending on my mood, I'd help one side... or butcher them all."
Now was the moment of the hunt.
Kent desperately wanted an extraterrestrial trophy added to his private collection. That would be far more valuable than any anaconda or crocodile.
A red-haired constable hurried over to report.
"The Dongyang people have mobilized."
Among the ironclad warships overturned and sunk in the river, there were naturally warships belonging to the Dongyang people. Having finally risen to become masters themselves, the Dongyang people were now sending troops from the concession, shouting the slogan: Severely punish the branch.
"Let the Dongyang people through. Let them attack first." Albert issued the order.
The same order also came from the mouths of the spokesmen for the other great powers.
When it came to affairs in the Far East, the great powers had always kept clear heads.
The Dongyang people were tethered by a dog chain, the barbarians were cowed by dogs, and civilized men held knives and forks. Now that the dining table had changed, they would loosen the dog chain and let the Dongyang people, who had the most to fear from retaliation, sound out the situation first.
These were soldiers numbering in the hundreds, armed with guns and cannons, well trained, and strict in military discipline.
If even this was something the Thunder Angel could handle with ease...
Then the great powers would have to reconsider their objectives and policies in the Far East.
The so-called well-trained, strictly disciplined forces of this era referred to the deployment of small military units. Preparation time was measured in hours. On this land whose backbone had been broken, officers would deliberately indulge their soldiers so they could vent their cruelty and fighting spirit.
To sum it up in twelve characters: burning, killing, looting; rape and abduction; no evil left undone.
If soldiers were not allowed to vent themselves, those fighting for the empire would fire a black shot at their officers.
From the moment Lan Yi sank the warships to the moment the Dongyang people prepared to send troops to Severely punish the branch, sixteen hours had passed. For the colonial era of the empires, arranging everything and mobilizing within sixteen hours truly counted as astonishing speed. After all, sixteen hours might not even have been enough for the rotten Imperial Court's ministers to spit at one another and tug each other's beards in the hall.
But for Lan Yi—
Sixteen hours had been enough for him to create two hundred Qi Cultivation Practitioners and four Qi Cultivation Grand Completion practitioners.
And of those four Qi Cultivation Grand Completion practitioners, one had already successfully broken through to Spirit Cultivation.
Contrary to Lan Yi's expectations—
the only Spirit Cultivation Practitioner beside Lan Yi at that moment was neither Huo Yuanjia nor Zhao Jian.
He was a rickshaw puller.
His name was Geng Liangchen. He had handsome features and sharp eyes. Though he was merely a lowly rickshaw puller, he possessed a vicious spirit that feared neither Heaven nor earth. It was said that, out of admiration for Huo Yuanjia, he had come all the way from Jinmen to join the Jingwu Gymnastics Association.
He had never expected to encounter Lan Yi's Bestowing Martial Arts.
"One Spirit Cultivation Practitioner, three Qi Cultivation Grand Completion practitioners, and two hundred Qi Cultivation Practitioners."
"Your body also contains a life cluster I awakened."
"Go. Leave not a single Dongyang person alive. If you can't even accomplish that..."
Lan Yi unfolded Cang Hua, which slowly replenished its spiritual energy in the morning light. He did not finish speaking. He merely made the air several degrees colder and more dangerous.
The space behind the pale-skinned, uncanny-looking Geng Liangchen's head was dark and terrifying. He bowed with heartfelt reverence.
"I obey the Immortal Master's Order. Not one will be left alive!"