Conflict: You Lowborn Scum! His First Outburst of Fury

He lowered his head to look at his hands and muttered, "I'm a Soul Guidance Train killer... but this is just the platform. I haven't boarded, so it should be fine, right?"

He was keenly aware of his tendency to "cause trouble whenever he took transportation," but then he reconsidered. He was only here to pick someone up. Surely he couldn't stir up some bizarre trouble on the platform too?

Reality, however, proved that this tendency of his was far more outrageous than he had imagined.

Ten minutes had passed since the train arrived, but no matter how long Tang Wulin waited, he still saw no sign of his parents. He frowned, then took advantage of his small stature and cute looks to squeeze his way to the front with repeated calls of "Excuse me."

Then he saw something wrong.

Tang Ziran and Lang Yue stood not far from the station exit, caught in a scuffle with several people. Tang Ziran's face was flushed, and he seemed to be struggling to suppress his anger. Lang Yue's eyes were also a little red.

Facing them stood a young man in his early twenties, impeccably dressed, with a face full of arrogant defiance.

"Do you know how much this outfit cost? It's custom-made! A hundred thousand Federal Coins! You got it dirty, so pay up!"

The young man's loud voice drew looks from quite a few people nearby. Tang Ziran clenched his fists and said in a low voice:

"You were the one who cut in line and bumped into us. You even broke the gift we brought for our son. How did this become our fault?"

"Heh, country bumpkins will always be country bumpkins. You even dare to talk back?" The young man sneered and looked Tang Ziran up and down.

"Judging by those clothes, you're from the countryside, right? First time in Shrek City? Do you know what this place is? This is the most prestigious city on the entire continent. Are people like you even worthy of coming here?"

Lang Yue trembled with anger. "You... how can you speak like that?"

"That's how I speak. What are you going to do about it?" The young man raised his chin. "Either pay up, or I'll have someone throw you out. Your choice."

Tang Wulin stood a short distance away and took it all in. The smile on his face slowly faded.

He saw the box Tang Ziran held in his arms—the gift they had brought for him. It had been smashed and cracked open.

He saw Lang Yue's reddened eyes, Tang Ziran's tightly clenched fists, and the restrained look on his face.

His parents were being bullied.

Tang Wulin took a deep breath and walked over.

"Dad, Mom."

His voice wasn't loud, but it cut clearly through the noisy crowd. Tang Ziran and Lang Yue both turned, and the instant they saw their son, their eyes reddened.

"Wulin!" Lang Yue's tears spilled at once. "Why are you here... Mom's fine. It's just..."

"I know." Tang Wulin smiled, stepped forward, and gently took Lang Yue's hand. Then he looked at the young man. "You said my parents had to pay you?"

The young man sized Tang Wulin up. Seeing a child of six or seven, he immediately gave a disdainful laugh. "What, a little brat wants to stand up for them too? Your parents dirtied my clothes. It's only right that they pay. A hundred thousand Federal Coins, not a coin less."

"Oh." Tang Wulin nodded. "Then tell me how they dirtied your clothes."

"They..." The young man faltered, then snapped belligerently, "They shoved into me! These clothes are custom-made. They can't even be touched!"

"But from what I saw, you cut in line, bumped into my dad, and broke the gift my parents brought me." Tang Wulin pointed at the cracked box in Tang Ziran's hands. "What do you have to say about that?"

The young man's expression shifted before his embarrassment turned to anger. "If I say it's their fault, then it's their fault! Little brat, say another word and I'll deal with you too!"

Tang Wulin's gaze burned. "Apologize to my parents!"

Tang Ziran had originally wanted to keep the peace. If the other party offered an apology, he would have let the matter drop. But he hadn't expected this young man named Wang Yu to refuse to admit fault and instead grow more aggressive with every word.

"Apologize? Do you know who I am?" Wang Yu straightened, arrogance written all over his face. "You've heard of Shrek Academy, haven't you? I graduated from there! A Five-Ring Soul King and a One-Word Battle Armor Master!"

He patted the badge on his chest, his voice growing even smugger:

"My dad is a Soul Douluo, and my grandfather is one of the War God Temple's Eighteen War Gods! A little brat like you dares demand an apology from me?"

An uproar immediately swept through the onlookers.

The War God Temple's Eighteen War Gods represented the very pinnacle of combat strength in the entire Sun Moon Federation.

Any one of them could make a whole city shudder three times with a stamp of his foot. If Wang Yu's grandfather was a War God, then his connections truly reached the heavens.

"This child's gotten himself into serious trouble..."

"Exactly. Who would dare offend someone from the War God Temple?"

"Ah, what a shame. He looks like such a sweet child..."

The crowd whispered among themselves, their gazes taking on a measure of sympathy as they looked at Tang Wulin.

Tang Ziran's expression changed. Although he wasn't a powerful Soul Master, he knew what the words "War God" meant. He hurriedly caught Tang Wulin's arm and lowered his voice:

"Wulin, let it go... Dad's fine. Let's leave. Don't cause trouble."

Lang Yue hurriedly nodded too. Her eyes were still red, but she forced a smile. "Yes, Wulin. Mom doesn't feel wronged. Let's go... You still need to cultivate. Don't let this get in the way of what matters."

They didn't want their son to make a powerful enemy. No matter how much injustice they suffered, they didn't want Tang Wulin to end up in danger because of them.

But Tang Wulin didn't move.

He stood where he was, looking at Wang Yu's arrogant face, then at his parents' expressions as they swallowed their humiliation. It felt as though a fire were burning in his heart.

Of course he knew how powerful Wang Yu's backing was. The War God Temple's Eighteen War Gods stood at the tip of the pyramid across the entire continent.

But he knew something else even more clearly: if he backed down today, what would his parents think? They would think they had burdened their son, that they were useless.

In his previous life, Tang Ziran and Lang Yue had sold themselves to the Research Laboratory because they had no money, and they had eventually died there. In this life, he would never allow the same thing to happen again.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward. His voice wasn't loud, but it was utterly firm. "I said, apologize."

Wang Yu froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Little brat, can't you understand human speech? I'm telling you to apologize! Your parents dirtied my clothes. Pay up!"

"You cut in line, bumped into my dad, and broke the gift they brought me," Tang Wulin said, enunciating every word. "You're the one who should apologize."

Wang Yu's smile froze. He narrowed his eyes and looked Tang Wulin up and down. "So you're determined to make an enemy of me?"

"I only want you to apologize."

"And what if I won't?"

Wang Yu gave a vicious grin.

"A bunch of lowborn scum wants me to apologize? I'll make sure you can't survive anywhere in the Federation... That's the price of offending me."

Raised in pampered luxury, he had never suffered any injustice, and so he had developed this arrogant, overbearing disposition.

Tang Wulin looked at him, and the corners of his mouth suddenly curved upward. "Then I'll beat you until you apologize."

Before the words had finished leaving his mouth, and before Wang Yu could react, his vision blurred. Tang Wulin vanished from where he stood and appeared before him in the next instant. A small, fair-skinned fist drove straight toward his chest, carrying a terrifying rush of wind.

Wang Yu's pupils shrank sharply, and he instinctively crossed his arms in front of his chest. But that force far surpassed anything he had imagined. It was like being struck head-on by a charging Soul Beast. He flew backward, slammed heavily into the ground, and slid seven or eight meters before coughing up a mouthful of blood.

"Cough... cough, cough..." Wang Yu lay sprawled on the ground, disbelief all over his face. He was a Five-Ring Soul King, yet a child of six or seven had sent him flying with one punch? What kind of strength was that? Was this kid a monster?

The onlookers were dumbfounded too. They had thought Tang Wulin would be taught a lesson, but Wang Yu had ended up on the receiving end instead?

P.S. Brothers, what's coming next is ridiculously satisfying.

By the way, do you think the Sun Moon Federation is just?