The Demeanor of a Master

Near Huli Harbor, Mengtesi Badun came slicing through the waves aboard a speedboat.

As he drew closer, Zhang Xuezhou saw the man who controlled the Aomeijia Alliance's largest Lineage.

Mengtesi Badun looked nothing like Zhang Xuezhou had imagined.

He was the only Eighth Sequence still alive in the world.

Zhang Xuezhou had always assumed that even in old age, such a man would have a mighty, brawny build and the looks of a warrior brave enough to stand against ten thousand men.

But the grander the image in his mind, the harder reality struck back.

Mengtesi Badun was not tall at all. He could even be called short, standing only about a meter and a half.

His face was covered in a graying beard, and he looked as old as an ancient pine. He wore a tattered coat that he clearly did not care about.

If Zhou Xin had not confirmed it, Zhang Xuezhou would have found it hard to believe that such a man held the greatest power in the Aomeijia Alliance.

"Zhou Xin, don't start shouting about fighting and killing the moment we meet! We can hold hands instead of fighting!"

Mengtesi Badun shouted through a loudspeaker. His Scarlet Alliance State speech carried no trace of a foreign accent, sounding almost indistinguishable from that of a native.

"I don't want to hold your hand," Zhou Xin cursed. "You said the same thing last time and nearly broke mine!"

"I just couldn't help striking back a tiny bit when you showed me hostility," Mengtesi Badun shouted. "You should forgive me!"

"I can't forgive you," Zhou Xin cursed. "Every time there's an international conference, you beat me the hardest!"

"What do you mean, every time? I didn't beat you at the last international conference!"

"That's because I didn't go!"

"See?