High Martial Arts: Martial Soul Great Sage Equal to Heaven, crushing all races.

The wind high in the sky was sharp as a knife, relentlessly cutting through the thick clouds.

Feng Mo rode on the black and white dragon shadows, crossing the sky above the Magic City base without any hesitation.

On the fighter jet that brought him here, he thoroughly examined the rules and regulations of the Demon Slayer Division provided by Su Mufeng.

I have a thorough understanding of the rules.

The base city strictly prohibits militants from taking to the air. The air defense radar is firing 24/7, and any unreported object launched into the air will be locked on and shot down within three seconds.

However, the commander-in-chief of the Demon Slayer Division is an exception.

The token, entirely sky blue and engraved with a three-foot-long green blade, hovered three feet in front of Feng Mo.

Feng Qingyang's sixth-order domain aura was released without reservation.

As the air defense radars along the route swept over this aura, their indicator lights all turned from red to green, and their gun barrels lowered, clearing a clear air corridor.

The headquarters of the Demon Slayer Division of Shanghai is located on the edge of the city center. It is a fortress-like building constructed entirely of black boulders and high-strength alloys.

According to the ironclad rules of the Demon Slayer Bureau, the commander-in-chief's return to the bureau via the air is the highest-level signal for troop deployment.

Feng Mo removed the dragon shadow beneath his feet, and his body began to fall freely.

When he was only half a meter from the ground, the Five Elements True Qi gushed out from his Yongquan acupoint, offsetting all the downward force, and his feet landed silently on the Black Stone Plaza.

Two familiar faces approached; they were the two protectors from before, Wang Meng and Liu Yun.

Wang Meng and Liu Yun had just finished handing over an escort mission and were preparing to go to the logistics department to settle their merits.

The two fifth-level demon-slaying supervisors raised their heads, their gazes lingering on Feng Mo's young face for a moment before they stared intently at the cyan token hovering in front of him.

Wang Meng's eyelids twitched violently twice, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Liu Yun gasped, his feet rooted to the spot.

The two of them had escorted Feng Mo to Shanghai just a few days ago.

At that time, the boy was holding Lei Jun Li Changqing's token in his hand.

In less than half a day, he actually managed to get his hands on Feng Qingyang's general's order?

Since its establishment, the Demon Slayer Bureau has never had a single person holding two general-level tokens.

What exactly is this young man's identity?

The two exchanged a glance, suppressing their shock, and brought their legs together, pounding their right fists heavily into their left chests, giving a standard military salute from the Demon Slayer Division.

"Wang Meng, the Demon-Slaying Supervisor, greets General Feng!"

"Liu Yun, the Demon-Slaying Commander, greets General Feng!"

Feng Mo raised his hand and put away the token, his tone calm: "Wang Meng, take me to Conference Room Number One. Liu Yun, take my token and ring the assembly bell. All fifth-rank supervisors within the department, assemble in the conference room within five minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Without exchanging a single word, the two turned and went their separate ways.

The Demon Slayer Division only recognizes rules and force, and Feng Qingyang's token is the biggest rule.

The somber tolling of the assembly bell echoed within the fortress, striking the hearts of every member of the Demon Slayer Division.

The once-calm Demon Slayer Division, like a lurking beast, slowly opened its eyes.

Fifth-tier demon-slaying captains, dressed in black robes with dragon and tiger patterns and cloaks with the character "斩" (meaning "slay"), emerged from various areas.

They moved with a brisk pace, their faces cold and hard, and many of their cloaks were still dripping with the stench of demonic blood. A strong sense of murderous intent mingled and collided in the corridor.

"Didn't General Feng just return to Shanghai? How come he's already mobilizing troops again without even catching his breath?"

"Judging by the days, the catfish in the Xinlan River is starting to hold a festival again recently, probably preparing to take action against it."

"Nonsense, that catfish is slippery. Last year, even the General himself led a team and couldn't find its lair. I'm afraid it'll be the same this time, right?"

Several fifth-rank supervisors met in the corridor, talking in hushed tones, but their steps were not slow at all.

Conference Room 1.

The space is enormous, with cool-toned shadowless lamps hanging from the dome.

Even with the air circulation system running at full speed, it still couldn't remove the bloody smell carried by those who had fought with monsters year after year.

The metal doors slid open, and the officers filed in.

Leading the way was a bald, burly man, over two meters tall, with a dark red, centipede-like scar running down his left cheek and neck.

This person is named Yang Jinyun, with a fifth-order fourth-level cultivation level and a fiery temper.

He pulled out a chair and was about to sit down when his peripheral vision caught the head of the table, and he abruptly stopped.

Sitting in the seat representing the highest power of the Demon Slayer Division in Shanghai was not Feng Qingyang, who always carried a wine gourd and had bleary eyes from drunkenness.

Instead, he was a handsome young man with well-defined features and a tall, slender build.

Wang Meng and Liu Yun sat on either side of the boy.

The atmosphere in the meeting room froze instantly.

Including Yang Jinyun, the ten fifth-rank supervisors remained standing, their eyes all fixed on Feng Mo.

Scrutiny, doubt, disdain, anger—various emotions intertwine to form an invisible net.

Yang Jinyun straightened up and slammed his fist on the table, the arm armor colliding with the metal with a piercing screech.

He stared at Liu Yun, his voice rough: "Liu Yun, what are you doing? Do you think you can just strike the assembly bell like that? Where's General Feng? And this little brat? Does he even deserve to sit in that position?"

Feng Mo crossed his hands and rested them on his chin, his fingers long and fair.

He ignored Yang Jinyun's shouts and his gaze swept across the faces of the ten people.

"Please take your seats, everyone." Feng Mo pointed to the cyan token on the table. "This is General Feng's token, used by me to summon you all on his behalf."

The officers looked at the genuine order of the commander-in-chief, their expressions shifting, before finally pulling out chairs and sitting down sparsely.

Seeing the order is like seeing the person; the general's token cannot be faked.

Feng Mo adjusted his posture, straightening his back.

"Everyone's here, so let's get straight to the point. My name is Feng Mo."

"Not long ago, General Feng handed me this token, ordering me to take full charge of the demon-slaying operation on the Xinlan River. The mission objective is to kill that self-proclaimed river god, fifth-tier catfish demon beast. Therefore, I am here to mobilize troops."

As soon as he finished speaking, the conference room fell into a deathly silence.

A few seconds later, a suppressed snicker came from the corner and then spread.

"Xinlan River? Kill that peak fifth-tier catfish?"

"What a joke! That beast is hiding in the river's underwater veins; even General Feng's sword couldn't cut it. And you think you can?"

"Feng Mo... that name sounds familiar. Oh, I remember now, he's this year's national martial arts exam champion. No wonder he's so arrogant."

A tall, thin, sinister-looking military officer toyed with the dagger in his hand and sneered, "Top scholar, tired of the childish games at school? Came to our Demon Slayer Division looking for thrills? This isn't an examination hall, and the demons won't grade you according to the rules. People will die, understand?"

Yang Jinyun was even more direct. He slammed his hand on the alloy tabletop, making a loud bang and leaving a deep palm print about an inch deep.

He had just led the Flying Tiger Battalion to wipe out a small monster breeding ground, sacrificing more than a dozen brothers to rescue more than two thousand compatriots.

The ashes of his brothers haven't even been warmed yet, and now he's handing over the remaining brothers to an eighteen-year-old freshman to carry out a mission that even Feng Qingyang isn't confident he can complete?

Utterly absurd.

Yang Jinyun stood up, looking down at Feng Mo with a furious rage burning in his eyes.

"I, Yang Jinyun, joined the Demon-Slaying Division at eighteen and have spent over fifty years rolling among piles of corpses. These scars on my body are the marks of battle, scratched by the claws of demonic beasts. Here, I only acknowledge General Feng's sword!"

He stretched out his thick finger and pointed it at Feng Mo.

"You little brat, thinking you can boss us around with just a sign? Dream on!"

Feng Mo's expression remained unchanged.

He didn't feel angry.

He had already guessed this situation when Feng Qingyang handed him the token.

These demon-slaying warriors have fought their way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood; they revere the strong and despise the weak.

In their eyes, a fourth-tier freshman, even with the halo of being the top scorer, is nothing more than a hothouse flower that has never seen blood.

Feng Qingyang wanted to use this group of arrogant and fierce soldiers to temper Feng Mo's temperament and teach him the art of compromise, appeasement, and management.

But Feng Mo refused.

What he hates most are these complicated interpersonal relationships and power struggles.

Why waste words on a problem that can be solved with fists?

"Yang Jinyun, right?" Feng Mo leaned forward slightly, his gaze passing over the thick finger and locking onto the other person's eyes. "Besides him, who else would dare to disobey the transfer order?"

The two officers pushed back their chairs and stood up.

"I, Zhao Yuping, only listen to General Feng."

"I, Chen Dong, am the same."

These two were Yang Jinyun's sworn brothers, always advancing and retreating together.

Liu Yun couldn't stand it anymore.

He had personally witnessed Feng Mo smash Yu Xuanfeng, a peak fifth-tier cultivator, into dust with a single blow from 10,000 meters in the air.

These clueless fools have no idea what kind of monster they're facing.

"What are you all yelling about!" Liu Yun shouted sternly. "An order is like a personal statement! Disobeying the General's orders is treason. Don't you have any sense of that?"

Wang Meng quickly tried to smooth things over and calm things down: "Everyone, let's talk this out. General Feng Mo has his reasons for holding the token. We're all in the Demon Slaying Division to kill demons, there's no need to make things so tense."

Yang Jinyun let out a disdainful snort.

"Treason? I've killed more demons than this kid has ever seen a person! Trying to intimidate me with rules? I won't fall for that!"

He turned and walked towards the door, leaving without looking back with the words, "You don't deserve it."

Zhao Yuping and Chen Dong followed closely behind.

The other officers remained seated, observing coldly.

They didn't leave because they didn't want to openly disobey military orders, but they also didn't intend to cooperate; they were simply there to watch the show.

Feng Mo looked at Yang Jinyun's broad back with a calm expression.

Did I let you leave?