The SSSSSSSS-level Mad Dragon is released from prison!

The rain was still falling, even more heavily than it had been at Tianxiang Tower.

The two stone lions at the entrance of the Han family mansion gleamed from the rain, and the stone balls in their mouths seemed to tremble.

A dozen high-wattage searchlights illuminated the front door in a stark white light, making even the ants on the ground nowhere to hide.

The gate was wide open.

There were no martial arts masters arranging their troops as I had imagined; instead, there was only a dark mass of gun barrels.

Fifty black-clad guards, wearing bulletproof vests and carrying specially made short-barreled rifles, stood in three neat rows.

The red laser sights were densely packed on my chest, like a red flower embroidered on my white shirt.

On the high platform, Han Zhenlong, the current head of the Han family, held up a black umbrella, his fat face trembling slightly with excitement.

"Jiang Chen, this is not Tianxiang Restaurant."

Han Zhenlong's voice came through the loudspeaker, accompanied by a hissing sound from the electrical current.

"The ban on guns in the capital is for those who follow the rules."

He raised the megaphone in his hand a little higher, even with a hint of showing off.

"To kill you, you mad dog, my Han family has brought out all our trump cards: fifty specially made armor-piercing bullets. Even a Grandmaster's protective aura is just a thin layer of paper."

I stopped and threw the dulled hoe at my feet.

Shen Suxin stood half a step behind me, still holding the black umbrella in her hand, her gaze sweeping over the row of dark gun barrels.

"Neurotoxins equipped with armor-piercing warheads."

Shen Suxin sniffed, her voice very soft.

"Even a minor scratch can cause cardiac arrest in three seconds."

I reached out and brushed the raindrops off my shoulders.

"Did you hear that? Patriarch Han really thinks highly of me."

Han Zhenlong grinned maliciously on the high platform and suddenly swung the megaphone in his hand downwards.

"Open fire! Turn him into a sieve!"

The sound of rain was mixed with the metallic clanging of triggers being pulled.

That was the sound of death knocking on the door.

"Buzz—"

Just as those fingers were about to strike.

The air suddenly became viscous.

It's not an adjective; it refers to viscosity in a physical sense.

The dormant remnant soul of the true dragon deep within the dantian seemed to have been awakened from its sweet dream by the overwhelming killing intent, and it turned over unhappily.

A golden ripple emanated from the soles of my feet and exploded along the ground in an instant.

The raindrops hung suspended in mid-air.

Those gun barrels that had just threatened to kill suddenly felt heavier than a thousand pounds.

The black-clad guards in the first row had bulging eyes and veins on their arms that stood out like earthworms.

They tried desperately to pull the trigger.

Even just moving a finger.

Can't do it.

That invisible pressure seeped into their bones through their pores, locking every nerve and bending every inch of their spine.

"Clatter".

The first submachine gun fell into the puddle.

Then came the second and third versions.

The red laser beams swayed wildly in the air before finally illuminating the ground.

"Fire! What are you all doing! Shoot!"

Han Zhenlong was so anxious on stage that he slammed his megaphone against the railing, emitting a piercing whistling sound.

"Zira—"

Sparks suddenly flew from the tactical headsets worn by the black-clad guards.

Under the strong magnetic field formed by the dragon, all the delicate electronic components short-circuited instantly.

The smell of burning mixed with the fishy odor of rainwater permeated the air.

"What...what kind of sorcery is this?"

The megaphone in Han Zhenlong's hand also went silent, and he threw it away with a yelp because it was so hot.

I took a step forward and waded through the puddles.

With each step, the ground trembled.

"Thump."

The black-clad guard closest to me suddenly buckled at the knees and knelt heavily on the ground.

The kneecap shattered the floor tile with a dull thud.

He didn't want to kneel.

But every cell in his body was screaming—the instinct of submission ingrained in the genes of a lower organism facing a apex predator.

"Splash, splash, splash..."

Like a domino effect that has been toppled.

As I walked, the black-clad guards with guns knelt down in droves.

The menacing gunfire that had been raging moments before instantly transformed into a path of kneeling worship.

I just walked in the middle without even lifting my eyelids.

"You...you stay away!"

Han Zhenlong took two steps back, his lower back slamming into the railing of the platform.

His prized firepower network was reduced to scrap metal without even making a sound.

This fear was more intense than simply killing him.

"Playing with gunpowder in front of a real dragon."

I stopped below the platform and looked up at the trembling fat man.

"What's the difference between this and showing off your sword skills in front of Guan Yu?"

Shen Suxin followed, and seeing the black-clad guards kneeling on the ground, foaming at the mouth, she reached out and tugged at my sleeve.

"Their central nervous system was crushed by your aura."

Her tone carried a hint of inquiry, as if she had discovered some novel case.

"This level of pressure has transcended the realm of martial arts; it's more like... species suppression."

I patted Shen Suxin's hand, signaling her to be quiet.

"Get down."

I beckoned to Han Zhenlong with my finger.

Han Zhenlong's legs trembled as he tried to steady himself by holding onto the railing, but the oppressive aura felt like an invisible hand pressing down hard on the top of his head.

"ah--!"

He screamed and tumbled off the three-meter-high platform.

Land face first.

The sound of the nasal bone cracking was exceptionally crisp.

Han Zhenlong lay prone in the mud, his face covered in blood, trying to crawl backward using both hands and feet, making a "ho ho" sound like a bellows.

He looked up at me.

That look wasn't directed at any one person.

It's like watching a god or demon who has just crawled out of hell.

"No...don't kill me..."

Han Zhenlong's mouth was full of mud, and he no longer had any of the prestige of a patriarch.

"I'm just a gatekeeper! The real ones who want to kill you are the Jun family! It's Jun Aoshi! I'm just following orders!"

I stepped on his hand, which was reaching for the distress signal device in his pocket.

"Click."

The five fingers instantly turned into minced meat.

"I will naturally go to the Jun family."

I crouched down and looked at his face, which was contorted with pain.

"But you're barking too loudly, you watchdog, you're disturbing me."

I stood up and didn't look at the pile of rotten flesh again.

The Han family's main house is very large.

But I had no interest in appreciating the pavilions and towers here.

That smell.

That nauseating yet deeply familiar smell was wafting out from somewhere deep within the mansion.

I looked up, my gaze passing through layers of rain, and locked onto the gloomy ancestral hall in the very center.

That's my destiny.

It was a remnant that was forcibly removed from my spine five years ago and then shared like garbage with these lackeys.

"Let's go."

I called out to Shen Suxin and headed towards the ancestral hall.

"Go and take back what rightfully belongs to me."

Shen Suxin glanced at Han Zhenlong, who was still convulsing on the ground, and followed silently without saying a word.

The closer you get to the ancestral hall, the stronger the smell becomes.

It's like sprinkling cheap perfume on stale, rotten meat.

The ancestral hall's main gate was tightly closed.

A faint light from an ever-burning lamp shone through the crack in the door.

I stood at the bottom of the steps, the jade pendant on my chest began to heat up, and the remnant soul of the true dragon in my dantian violently pounded against my meridians.

It was hungry.

It got angry too.

I lifted my foot and gently kicked the large nanmu door covered in copper.

"boom!"

The heavy door collapsed inward, kicking up a cloud of dust.

There are no ancestral tablets of the Han family enshrined in the ancestral hall.

On the large altar, there was only a dark memorial tablet.

Three sticks of black incense were still burning in front of the memorial tablet.