Along the borders of the East Sea region, the underworlds beneath city after city churned with hidden currents. The passageways and strongholds normally concealed in the shadows were now brightly lit, filled with shifting figures.
The air was thick with a suppressed yet feverish restlessness, like the calm before a storm.
Batch after batch of Black Hand Clan members were dispatched to various cities. Dressed in inconspicuous casual clothing, they blended into the crowds like drops of water merging into the sea, silent and unseen. Their eyes bore the clan's distinctive purple-black eyeshadow, but amid the crowds, it was hidden beneath hat brims, obscured by sunglasses, or concealed behind lowered eyelids. They looked like ordinary people, doing ordinary things, walking ordinary streets, and staying in ordinary hotels.
But they were not ordinary people.
They were the Plane Master's claws and fangs, the great Dragon God's loyal hounds.
Although the interaction between the Dragon Fighting Plane and the Douluo Plane had only just begun, and even under Zhong Lingyue's control they were not suppressed by the plane, they still could not fight at full strength.
The fusion between planes required time, the flow of energy required a process, and the adaptation of laws required a cycle.
Though the Black Hand Clan's power was recovering, it remained far from its peak.
But!
The Black Hand Clan had its own glory!
They were born from darkness, nurtured in darkness, and grew in darkness. They had endured the darkest age of the Dragon Fighting Plane, witnessed the final battle between the Black Death Dragon and the Four Great God King Dragons, and borne the despair and pain of a plane on the verge of shattering.
Better than anyone, they understood that strength was not everything. Glory was not won with fists, but earned through