He had only just gone downstairs with his younger sister when a knock sounded at the front door.
Chen Shouyi opened the door. A squad of soldiers came in, led by a captain who said solemnly, "Chief Advisor Chen, under the wartime emergency regulations and the Martial Artist Code of Conduct, you have been conscripted."
Chen Shouyi's heart sank. In truth, he had already guessed what was coming when he heard the knock.
Martial artists had always been considered paramilitary personnel, obligated to serve if war broke out. That clause had never come into play in peacetime, and no martial artist had ever been conscripted. But now, clearly, they had reached the most desperate hour.
Chen Shouyi looked at the soldiers, every one of them an ordinary person, and fell silent. He could see unease and fear on their faces, but more than anything, he saw resolve and determination.
He was afraid of dying. Whenever he thought of the terrifying god in the Memory Space, the hairs on his body stood on end, and he lost all will to fight. Yet when he looked at these soldiers, the words that came out of his mouth were, "All right!"
His blood had not yet run cold. If he were a civilian, that would be another matter; naturally, it would be only right to hide. But as a Great Martial Artist with immense power, he simply couldn't hide in some dark corner, thick-skinned and at ease, while the soldiers fought for their lives.
"Brother, you can't go!" Chen Xingyue cried anxiously beside him.
"I'll be fine. Wait for me to come back!"
"Is there anything you need to prepare?" The captain's expression softened, and a trace of respect appeared on his face. He knew that even if Chen Shouyi refused, they had