So What if You're the Richest Man in Douluo? If You Want to See Me, Get a Number at the Door First!

The guard held the letter, his entire body going numb after hearing Qin Feng's words.

Let the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, along with his little princess, come here and wait in line in person?

If these words were to get out, the entire Heaven Dou Empire would tremble.

"Boss... this..."

"Do as I say and relay the message. Don't change a single word." Qin Feng didn't even lift his head, continuing to maintain the AK-47 in his hands. His movements were so practiced, it was as if he were caressing a lover's skin.

"Yes!" The guard dared not ask more, turned around, and hurried away.

Deep inside the factory, Orochimaru was observing something beside a massive glass container, inside which a section of Datura Snake nerve tissue was soaking. Hearing the commotion outside, he spoke in a hoarse voice: "Qin Feng-kun, the martial soul of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is said to be the top-tier support-type tool martial soul on the continent, capable of amplifying the strength and speed of others. From a genetic perspective, this is a very rare 'resonant gene expression.' If we could obtain their genetic samples..."

"There will be an opportunity." Qin Feng tossed a maintained gun into the finished-goods crate, producing a crisp metallic clatter. "Besides, they are delivering themselves to our doorstep."

Half a day passed in the blink of an eye.

The streets in the western district of Nuoding City were suddenly cleared.

A luxurious carriage, pulled by four snow-white Wind-Walking Horses, slowly approached. The carriage was crafted entirely from precious golden nanmu wood, the windows were inlaid with crystal, and a glazed pagoda-shaped emblem hung from the corner of the roof.

The carriage of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

The carriage stopped fifty meters away from the Umbrella Corporation. The curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged man with a scholarly face and a gentle temperament stepped down; it was Ning Fengzhi. Behind him followed a girl with delicate, doll-like features, though her face was full of impatience—Ning Rongrong.

Behind the two of them stood two seemingly ordinary old men, one on each side. One had a thin, long frame and carried a long sword of indistinct style; the other had an unusually large skeleton, looking as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

Sword Douluo, Chen Xin.

Bone Douluo, Gu Rong.

Two Title Douluo!

"Dad, what kind of dump is this? It smells like rust." Ning Rongrong pinched her nose, looking at the strange building covered in metal plates with disdain. "Why are we here? I haven't even finished picking out my new jewelry."

"Rongrong, don't be rude." Although Ning Fengzhi scolded her, his eyes were filled with doting affection. He straightened his robes and stepped forward.

"Halt!"

Two power-armored guards, standing over two meters tall, extended their mechanical arms to block their path. The cold metal limbs held no warmth under the sun.

"Presumptuous!" A terrifying aura erupted from the seemingly withered body of Bone Douluo Gu Rong. The surrounding air instantly turned viscous, as if even the light were being distorted.

However, the power armor of the two guards merely flickered with a blue light, completely neutralizing the pressure. They remained standing in place, motionless.

"Hmm?" A trace of surprise flashed in Gu Rong's eyes.

Although he hadn't used his soul power, his aura alone was enough to force any soul master below the Soul Emperor rank to their knees. How could these two gatekeepers show no reaction at all?

"Are you blind?!" Seeing her family being blocked, Ning Rongrong immediately bristled. "Do you know who we are? My father is the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect! Kneel down and lead the way for us immediately!"

On the factory wall, a black loudspeaker suddenly emitted a "crackle" of electricity.

Qin Feng's lazy voice drifted out.

"Is the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect so impressive?"

"If you want to see me, go over there and wait in line."

As the voice faded, everyone's gaze followed the direction indicated by the loudspeaker. They saw that at the side door of the factory, seven or eight small blacksmith shop owners and merchants were already shrinking their necks, trembling as they stood in a line.

Ning Fengzhi's smile stiffened on his face for the first time.

He, the dignified Sect Master of the Upper Three Sects, was to wait in line with these common blacksmiths?

"Unreasonable!" Sword Douluo Chen Xin, who had kept his eyes closed the entire time, suddenly opened them.

No soul rings, no soul skills.

Only an invisible, razor-sharp intent transformed into a sharp sword, piercing straight toward the factory gate!

Sword intent!

He intended to use this strike of sword intent to force out the arrogant brat inside!

The moment the sword intent left his body:

"Hum—!"

On the smooth metal wall of the factory, an armor plate suddenly slid open, and a multi-barreled rotary turret, filled with the aesthetics of violence, slowly rose. The turret was pitch black, and the base of the barrels was connected to complex heat sinks and energy conduits.

It did not fire immediately.

Instead, a red sensor beneath the turret lit up with a beam of light.

[Thermal scanning initiated...]

[High-energy reaction detected...]

[Target locked: Body temperature 38.5 degrees Celsius, heart rate 120 beats per minute, energy fluctuation rating: Extremely dangerous.]

A cold, emotionless, synthesized mechanical voice echoed through the entire street via the loudspeaker.

Immediately following, a blinding red laser dot landed precisely on the center of Sword Douluo Chen Xin's forehead.

A murderous intent, a hundred times more terrifying than Bone Douluo's aura just moments ago, instantly locked onto the Sword Douluo.

It was not the killing intent of a human, nor the ferocity of a soul beast.

It was mechanical, pure, and existed solely for the logic of "eliminating the target."

Goosebumps broke out across Chen Xin's entire body.

He could feel that if he made even the slightest move, that pitch-black muzzle would erupt with a Metal Storm capable of tearing him to shreds.

He did not doubt this for a second.

[Warning: High-intensity attack intent detected.]

[Three.]

The mechanical countdown sounded like a death warrant from the Grim Reaper.

[Two.]

The air on the street seemed to freeze. Ning Rongrong was so frightened she hid behind Ning Fengzhi, not daring to even breathe.

Bone Douluo Gu Rong's expression also turned incredibly grave; he stared fixedly at the turret, ready to unleash his Avatar of the Martial Soul at any moment.

"Chen Xin!" Ning Fengzhi shouted in a low voice.

He knew they could not wait any longer!

[One.]

"We mean no harm!" Ning Fengzhi stepped forward abruptly, spreading his arms to block the path in front of Sword Douluo, and shouted loudly.

The whirring of the turret came to an abrupt halt.

The red dot locked onto the center of Chen Xin's brow flickered twice before slowly fading away.

[Threat neutralized.]

[Warning: All personnel, please return to the queuing area. Any crossing of the line will be considered a provocation.]

The mechanical voice sounded once more, the turret slowly retracted into the wall, and the armor plating closed up as if nothing had ever happened.

But on the street, everyone's backs were soaked in cold sweat.

Sword Douluo Chen Xin, this supreme master of the sword standing at the pinnacle of the continent, had just felt the threat of death for the very first time.

And the thing threatening him was a pile of steel he could not comprehend.

Ning Fengzhi let out a long breath, feeling as if he had just returned from the gates of hell. He turned his head to look at Chen Xin and Gu Rong, who were still shaken, and then at his young daughter, whose face was pale with fright.

In his eyes, there was no anger; instead, a light burned with unprecedented intensity.

It was a power capable of changing the sect, and perhaps even the landscape of the entire continent!

He straightened his slightly disheveled robes, regaining his usual composure and elegance.

Then, to the astonishment of everyone present, he stepped forward—not toward the factory gate, but toward the line of shivering blacksmiths.

He stood still and took his place at the very back of the line.

A small merchant covered in grease turned around, saw Ning Fengzhi, and his legs went weak, nearly causing him to collapse. "Sect... Sect Master Ning?"

Ning Fengzhi smiled and nodded at him, his voice gentle yet carrying an unquestionable authority.

"It is fine, we shall... queue together."