Being forced to grow like a pig? But I'm immune to the consequences!

He'd received the news last night and was seething with anger. The cooked duck had flown away—not just the four hundred yuan, but also the contribution points Zhao Shugen might have earned with his life! And now, it all went to that brat Wu Sheng!

Uncle Zhao merely glanced at him, his face expressionless. Years of experience had taught him that getting angry at such a person was a waste of energy.

Wu Sheng stepped forward, blocking Zhao Bo's path, and calmly looked at Liu Xuezheng. His voice was not loud, but each word was clear: "Director Liu, you're getting old. You should start doing some good deeds."

He paused, his tone still calm, yet carrying an unmistakable chill: "While I'm away from the outer city, I advise you not to do anything underhanded. Otherwise, if you were to unexpectedly die at home one day, all the things you accumulated in your lifetime would end up in the hands of who knows who."

Liu Xuezheng's face instantly turned ashen, then flushed red and then pale. He had calculated everything, but he hadn't anticipated that Wu Sheng would actually rise to prominence. Now, the other party's status was different from before, and he, as the head of the market, could no longer control him; instead, he had created a grudge.

He suppressed his anger and forced a cold laugh: "Ah Sheng, I'm an elder who's watched you grow up. You're becoming more and more rude with your words. Fine, I won't hold it against you."

He changed the subject, adding a hint of threat and self-aggrandizement: "Let me give you a piece of advice: the inner city is a dangerous place with many powerful people. When you get there, be careful what you do! Don't think you're something special just because you have some talent. If you accidentally offend a really important person, you won't be treated as politely as I have."

He paused deliberately, raising his chin: "If you're willing to back down now and admit your mistake, I might, out of consideration for our past relationship, write a letter to my nephew Wenbo and ask him to... take care of you a little in the inner city. Otherwise, hmph..."

"Rat-a-tat-tat—!"

The noise of the motorboat docking came at just the right moment, the heavy engine sound masking Liu Xuezheng's unfinished threats and drawing everyone's attention. The boatman lowered the gangplank, signaling for boarding.

Wu Sheng didn't look at Liu Xuezheng again, as if he were just a source of noise on the roadside. He turned around to face his relatives who were seeing him off.

"Young man, when you get there, be sure to take good care of yourself. Don't worry about home." Wu Yuqiang held back her tears, reached out and straightened her younger brother's already neat collar, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Wu Sheng grasped his sister's hand, his gaze resolute: "Sister, wait for me. I will become a martial artist as soon as possible, and then I will bring you to the inner city."

He looked at Mohan, Arif, and Uncle Zhao and his grandson.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wu, even if I'm assigned to another district, I'll come back to visit often." Mo Han patted his chest forcefully.

"With me here, there won't be any trouble. If there's anything I can't handle, I'll find a way to send you a message," Arif solemnly promised.

"Go, Sheng-gege!" Little Zhao Qi said softly but clearly, looking up at his brother.

Looking at these familiar faces, Wu Sheng felt a surge of warmth in his heart, yet also a heavy sense of responsibility. He nodded, said nothing more, and turned to step onto the diving board.

With steady steps and an upright posture, he walked straight into the cabin and never looked back.

The boat slowly pulled away from the shore, the sputtering of its motor churning the water, carrying the boy and his unknown future toward the misty, imposing inner city. The figure on the dock gradually shrank, eventually blurring into the distance.

on board.

"Master Zhang." Wu Sheng and the other three bowed to Zhang Yong.

Zhang Yong nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his gaze to other areas of the deck: "These young people on the ship are all like you, talented individuals selected from various outer districts to go to the inner city. Take this opportunity to get to know them."

Looking in the direction he indicated, besides Zhang Yong and a few other team leaders, there were more than twenty young people of similar age scattered on the deck. The total number was not large.

At this moment, these young people were leaning against the ship's railing, or gathered in twos and threes, looking around curiously. For them, riding on such a well-maintained large ship was a first for them.

"They only picked us from the entire outer city? That's far too few!"

"That just shows how precious we are! It's like a thousand soldiers crossing a single-plank bridge; only true geniuses can make it across!"

"That's right! We are destined to become martial artists, to change our destiny!"

On the deck, hushed but excited conversations filled the air, and the young faces were etched with anticipation for the inner city.

Upon hearing this, a hyena gang instructor leading the group poured cold water on their enthusiasm: "Hmph, don't dream. I'm not trying to discourage you, but there are plenty of people like you in the inner city. If even one person from your entire ship becomes a martial artist, you'll be lucky."

"It can't be that bad, can it? We were selected through multiple rounds of screening..." one trainee muttered indignantly.

The instructor crossed his arms, his tone blunt and almost cruel: "To put it bluntly, you should all know this yourselves. The further you progress in body tempering, the more resources you consume. Talent? Your talent is decent, but not extraordinary enough to make the big shots in the inner city take notice. So, resources are the key."

He scanned the group of somewhat immature faces and continued, "The competition within the Hyena Gang is just small-time stuff. Once we get to the inner city, the real competition begins, and it will only be more intense and blatant."

You and the people in the inner city may have similar talents, but your backgrounds are different. Most of the people in the inner city have families backing them up, and they can enjoy far more resources than you do.

When talents are equal but resources are accessed differently, you have absolutely no advantage in competing with them.

Taking the opportunity, he briefly outlined the contours of the inner city.

The structure of the inner city is essentially no different from that of the outer city. At the top are the high-ranking nobles, below them lies a vast and diverse community formed by those who have entered the inner city from the outer city over generations. After all, anyone who enters the inner city with sufficient contribution points, even if they haven't broken through to the fourth level of Body Tempering, can find work, marry, and have children; they simply need to pay taxes periodically. These second-generation members of the inner city, if they wish to embark on the path of martial arts but are unwilling to risk their lives, also need to accumulate contribution points and undergo the same initial month of intensive training.

The only difference is that in the inner city, the ways and efficiency of obtaining contribution points are far easier than in the outer city.

In short, compared to their peers who were rooted in the inner city, these fresh blood who struggled up from the outer city had no background advantage whatsoever.

At this moment, another instructor with a kinder face gently comforted them: "However, you don't need to worry too much. Reaching this point proves that your talents have all met the standards. After your training in the inner city, you'll at least be able to find decent jobs, and your future prospects will be much brighter than those of us old folks."