"And what if I refuse?" Frank Yates asked, his voice calm but challenging."Refusal is an option," Iron Bull replied, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "But then you must kneel before Dana right now, admit you are trash, and declare that you are unworthy of pursuing her. Otherwise... don't expect to walk out of this stadium today!"Frank sighed internally. He was getting tired of meeting violence with violence, but seeing the arrogant swagger of the man in front of him, he decided that a little face-slapping was necessary to clear the air."Fine," Frank said, dusting off his gloves. "I accept your challenge. How do we play?""Since you're playing goalkeeper, let's do penalty kicks," Iron Bull announced, setting the rules. "One guards, one shoots. Three shots each. Whoever scores the most wins.""And the stakes?"Iron Bull’s face split into a malicious, excited grin. "The loser has to strip naked—completely naked—and run three l

THUMP!The sound was like a giant sledgehammer striking a broken drum. A deep, heavy impact that resonated through the stadium.Under the collective gaze of hundreds, the soccer ball slammed into Iron Bull’s chest. He wrapped his arms around it instinctively.In the next fraction of a second, Iron Bull’s face turned purple. A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips into the air. His massive body was lifted off the ground, flying backward as if he had been hit by a truck.Whoosh.He crashed into the goal net.Luckily, the net caught him, absorbing some of the momentum and preventing him from slamming into the metal support poles.Iron Bull’s body slid down the netting, landing in a heap on the ground. The soccer ball, which he had been clutching to his chest, rolled out of his limp arms.It trickled across the goal line.Goal."YEEEAAHHH!"The spectators erupted in wild cheers. The raw power of that kick was ter

Seeing that even the manager and the security guards had been brutally beaten, Rue—the waiter who had assisted Frank earlier—was trembling with fear. Without daring to utter a word of protest, he hurriedly led Frank toward the large water feature in the center of the hall.At the edge of the tank, a group of five people—three men and two women—were clustered together.The two women were knee-deep in the shallow section of the tank, squealing playfully as they tried to catch fish with small nets. The three men stood on the dry edge, watching with lecherous grins, occasionally shouting instructions or making crude jokes.Normally, catching seafood was a service provided by the staff. However, these three men clearly derived a specific pleasure from watching their female companions splash around in wet clothes."Vivi, your posture is wrong," one of the men jeered, leaning over the rail. "You need to stick your butt out more.""Autumn, yo

When Frank Yates’s eyes finally adjusted to the dim light of the underground garage, his expression darkened instantly.The sleek Mercedes S-Class, which Cloud Lee had lent him just yesterday, was a wreck.The windshield was shattered into a spiderweb of cracks. The side mirrors had been smashed off, dangling by their wires. And most insulting of all, someone had used white spray paint to scrawl two giant letters across the hood and doors: Stupid Cunt.It was a brand new car.Frank’s heart ached at the sight. He didn't need to be a detective to know who was responsible. It had to be the same bastards from the soccer field this morning.Suddenly, blinding beams of light cut through the gloom.From the opposite row of parking spaces, three cars simultaneously flashed their high beams, illuminating Frank and Vivi Lynch like deer caught in headlights.Raucous, unbridled laughter echoed through the garage.Frank quickly pulled Vivi behi

"Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule," Vivi Lynch continued, her voice taking on a more serious, conspiratorial tone. "Some Martial Cultivator sects, in order to secure resources and funding, will cultivate their own proxies in the secular world. For example, behind some of the massive conglomerates and multinational corporations, you can often find the looming shadow of a cultivation sect."She paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "Then there are the rogue cultivators—those without a sect or faction. Some of them are seduced by the neon lights and the high life of the city. They end up working as high-priced bodyguards for billionaires. Others... well, others cooperate with special government departments. They become the elite among the elite, the tip of the spear in special forces units, handling missions that are physically impossible for ordinary soldiers."Frank Yates frowned, processing this new information. "So, the government just le