He's from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect!

These simple words held boundless trust, once again striking precisely at the girl's sensitive heartstrings.

A powerful surge of emotion and impulse rose within Bibi Dong. Her gaze unconsciously flicked toward the figure at the very end of the group, almost blended into the shadows. She wanted to speak, yet could not.

Her Twin Martial Souls were one of Spirit Hall's highest-level secrets.

"What is it, Dong'er?" Zhao Linchuan asked at just the right moment, his eyes full of concern.

Looking into his honest eyes and feeling the warm strength in her palm—the symbol of another enormous secret—Bibi Dong made her decision in an instant.

She took a deep breath, leaned close to Zhao Linchuan's ear, and whispered so softly that only the two of them could hear, "Linchuan... come find me tonight."

"I... I have a secret to tell you too."

"What secret? Why so mysterious?" Zhao Linchuan pretended not to know, wearing just the right amount of curiosity.

"You'll know when you come tonight!" Bibi Dong threw out those words. Her cheeks burned, and she did not dare look at him again. She abruptly pulled back her hand, turned, and fled like a startled deer. "I... I'm going to register for a spirit battle!"

"See you later!"

As the Saintess, she did not need to register in person at all, but this excuse for her flustered escape exposed the turmoil in her heart.

She feared that if she stayed even one second longer, she would blurt out that deeply buried secret.

Watching Bibi Dong's slender figure practically flee in panic, Zhao Linchuan stood where he was. A barely noticeable curve lifted at the corner of his lips. He gently shook his head and murmured, "Silly girl."

There was a trace of helplessness in his tone, but even more affection.

Then, his expression turned solemn. His gaze shifted toward the depths of the Spirit Arena passage, and he headed in a certain direction—Francis's office.

Inside Francis's office, the atmosphere was grave.

The Spirit Arena's manager was staring at Zhao Linchuan, who sat leisurely in his personal seat. Fine beads of sweat covered Francis's forehead, and his face was filled with difficulty.

"My lord," Francis said with a cautious plea in his voice, "that 'Grandmaster'... he's from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect!"

"Though that little bit of Soul Power of his is truly nothing worth mentioning, he... he showed a token I recognize. Only the direct line of a core Elder could possess one like that!"

"If... if this blows up..." He did not dare imagine the wrath of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect.

Zhao Linchuan said nothing. He merely calmly took a black card gleaming with a dark light from his robes and lightly pushed it onto the desk.

It was an anonymous Black Card issued by one of the continent's top banks, worth—one hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins.

"My lord, this isn't about money..." Francis swallowed with difficulty, though his eyes remained glued to the card.

Zhao Linchuan remained silent. With a flick of his finger, another Black Card of the same value landed on top of it.

"My lord! The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect... it is one of the Upper Three Sects!" Francis's voice rose several degrees, filled with fear.

A third Black Card worth one hundred thousand silently fell atop the first two.

"My lord, he... he is very likely the son of an Elder with real authority..." Francis's tone had already begun to waver.

The fourth Black Card landed atop the small stack with a crisp smack from Zhao Linchuan.

"My lord! Please allow me... allow me to think it over carefully!" Francis's heart pounded wildly. Four hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins! This was nearly the total profit he had skimmed as the Spirit Arena's manager over half his life!

Expressionless, Zhao Linchuan made as if to retrieve the Black Cards.

"Wait!"

"My lord! Wait!" Francis practically lunged forward and pressed down on the stack of astonishingly valuable cards. His face instantly filled with obsequiousness and resolve. "My lord! I've made up my mind!"

"Leave the task you assigned to me, Francis!"

"I'll make sure it's handled beautifully!"

"Very good." Only then did Zhao Linchuan reveal a faint smile. With a turn of his fingers, another Black Card appeared at his fingertips—this one worth a full five hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins!

"Use all this money to buy the highest-quality Recording Stones."

"Record the entire process of the 'matter' clearly for me. Do not miss a single detail."

Next, he unfolded a finely drawn map, densely marked with every Soul Master Academy within the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's sphere of influence.

"Then," Zhao Linchuan's finger swept across the map, "scatter these Recording Stones for me!"

"Make sure everyone in these academies, especially some fire-attribute Soul Masters and those with particular tastes, gets one. Make sure they all see everything clearly and understand it perfectly!"

"My lord... this..." Francis sucked in a sharp breath. He completely understood Zhao Linchuan's intentions—he intended to nail the "Grandmaster" to the pillar of shame forever and leave him disgraced throughout the entire Soul Master World!

He asked with difficulty, "When the time comes... if the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect traces this back to me..."

The corners of Zhao Linchuan's lips curled up slightly. Another Black Card worth five hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins appeared between his fingers.

He gently placed it at the very top of the stack, like the final straw that broke the camel's back—and utterly crushed Francis's last remaining concern.

"Once the job is done, this money is yours."

"With it, do you still need to stay here and serve as the manager of some small Spirit Arena?"

"The sky is high and the world is vast. Where could you not go?"

Francis's eyes were instantly filled with the gleam of gold!

1.4 million Gold Soul Coins!

That was enough for him to live in obscurity and spend the rest of his life as a wealthy man in the most prosperous city of any empire!

Shareholders defaulting on debts? Spirit Arena management? To hell with all of it!

"My lord! Please wait here for a moment!" Francis abruptly straightened up, all hesitation gone from his face, leaving only fervor and drive. "I'll make the arrangements right away! I guarantee nothing will go wrong!"

He carefully grabbed the Black Cards as though they were keys to changing his fate, then hurried out of the office.

Only one thought remained in his mind: Handle this job well, take the fortune, and flee far away!

Who cared whether Yu Xiaogang was an Elder's son or the Sect Master's illegitimate child? At the ends of the earth, who could possibly trace anything back to Francis?

Half an hour later, in an extremely secret reception room deep within the Spirit Arena.

Dim yellow light fell across several faces, each bearing a different expression, yet all carrying a certain feverish, twisted excitement.

Suppressing his inner discomfort, Francis pointed at a Portrait spread out on the table. "Gentlemen, this is your target tonight."

"Once the job is done, each of you will receive an additional two thousand Gold Soul Coins as final payment." He pushed over a Black Card. "There are thirty-six thousand Gold Soul Coins on this card. That's the deposit for all thirty-six of you."

The Portrait showed Yu Xiaogang's face, tinged with gloom and arrogance.

(Please keep reading! Please keep reading! Please keep reading! Important things must be said three times!)