ACSP: Chapter 222: The Ambition of the Zhao Family's Grand Elder!
"Whoa! This guy's strength is terrifying—he subdued Wang Mang in a single move!"
"Wang Mang is a Level 87 Chunin Contractor. For someone to shut him down that effortlessly, they have to be a Jonin Contractor at a significantly higher level, right?"
"Could he be a Jonin Contractor pushing Level 90?"
"No way, his speed just now was like a bolt of lightning; I couldn't even register his movement. My guess is his level is at least 90 or above, and his contracted character is likely an Elite Jonin!"
"Are you serious? A Level 90+ Elite Jonin Contractor? Someone of that caliber is a top-tier powerhouse even in a place like Magic City. How has a face like his never surfaced before?"
"Maybe he's a 'Hidden Hand.'"
"A Hidden Hand?"
"Yeah. To keep their true foundation under wraps, some families secretly cultivate clan elites completely off the radar to serve as their hidden trump cards. These operatives aren't known to the public, but their clans pour immense resources into them, making their combat power ridiculously high."
"So that's how it is... Since he's walking with the Nangong sisters, could he be a Hidden Hand of the Nangong family?"
"It's highly possible. Although the Nangong family is small and lacks major backing, it makes total sense that they'd secretly raise a few Hidden Hands to protect themselves."
The sheer, overwhelming dominance Ronan displayed instantly sent a wave of intimidation through the entire square.
Even Zhao Quan's brow furrowed slightly as he analyzed the shift in power. But a moment later, the tension relaxed, and that cold, sinister smile resurfaced on his lips.
So what if the minor Nangong family had secretly cultivated a few clan elites? A mere Level 90-something Jonin Contractor was still nowhere near enough to stand against the sheer might of the Zhao family.
"My friend, I advise you to release Wang Mang right now," Zhao Quan spoke, his voice dripping with venom as his chilling gaze locked onto Ronan. At the same time, his eyes subtly drifted to Jiang Chen, who was standing calmly behind him.
Despite Ronan's display, Zhao Quan's instincts told him that among these three unfamiliar faces, this youngest youth was actually the most dangerous individual in the group.
Otherwise... those two powerhouses wouldn't be standing guard and calling him 'Boss.'
However... Zhao Quan did not feel the slightest shred of fear.
The Nangong family was nothing more than a third-rate clan in Magic City. Even if they had bled their coffers dry and exhausted every last resource to cultivate three high-level Hidden Hands, the absolute ceiling of their strength would likely be right where Ronan stood. An opponent of this caliber might be able to intimidate the ordinary rabble, but in his eyes? They were nothing more than clowns jumping on a stage.
Yet, faced with Zhao Quan's overt threat, Ronan chose to ignore him completely.
Maintaining his iron grip on Wang Mang with one hand, he casually turned his head toward Jiang Chen. "Boss, how should we handle this guy? Do I end him?"
"Don't! Everyone, please, let's just talk this out. Don't resort to violence!"
"Yes, yes, there must be some kind of misunderstanding here. Let's all just sit down and have a proper talk..."
Terrified of the situation spiraling entirely out of control, the Nangong sisters quickly stepped forward, frantically trying to persuade Jiang Chen to de-escalate.
"A misunderstanding?" Jiang Chen smiled, though the expression didn't reach his cold eyes.
At the very beginning, he had also thought this was just a minor misunderstanding. To settle the matter quickly and quietly, he had even been willing to part with a few Silver Chests as effortless compensation. But in return, his compliance had only made the other party more aggressive, insatiable, and demanding.
This reality only served to cement a profound truth once spoken by a great man: Dignity only exists upon the edge of a blade, and truth only lies within the range of a cannon!
Especially in this brutal era where the old world order had utterly collapsed, the absolute weight of those words would only continue to grow.
Therefore, when Ronan asked how to handle the trash in his grip, Jiang Chen didn't hesitate. He simply uttered a single, calm word.
"—Kill."
The moment the order left Jiang Chen's lips, Ronan's execution was flawlessly clean and decisive. Without a single word of warning, he channeled his monstrous strength into his grip and snapped Wang Mang's neck without a second thought.
"You death-seeking scum..."
Seeing that Jiang Chen and his group weren't giving him an ounce of face, a raging murderous intent instantly erupted within Zhao Quan. He snapped his arm up, gesturing sharply to his flank.
In the next fraction of a second, dozens of elite Zhao family guards materialized from the shadows of the square, drawing their weapons and instantly forming a suffocating blockade around Jiang Chen and his party.
At the exact same time, a core member of the Zhao clan standing directly behind Zhao Quan whipped out a secure tactical phone and slammed the emergency distress beacon. Within a heartbeat, an urgent high-priority alert pinged across the network, notifying every single member of the Zhao Family's Southern Pavilion within Magic City that Young Master Zhao Quan was in mortal danger.
Meanwhile, inside the main hall of the Zhao Family Southern Pavilion...
A dignified, imposing elder sat cast in the deep shadows of a carved wooden chair, casually flipping through the official roster for the upcoming Clan Head Competition.
This man was Zhao Dingtian—the Grand Elder of the Zhao Family, the absolute ruler of the Southern Pavilion, and Zhao Quan's biological grandfather. His character level had already reached a staggering Level 98, making him the highest-level powerhouse in the entire Zhao Family.
It was precisely because of his towering cultivation and overwhelming presence that he possessed the highest prestige among the four major factions of the clan. A massive reason why the Southern Pavilion could ruthlessly suppress the East, West, and North pavilions was his sheer existence alone.
"Zhao Shui? I didn't expect that old fogey Zhao Xuansu would actually resort to sending this junior to participate in the Clan Head Competition," Zhao Dingtian murmured, staring at the name on the parchment with a faint, mocking sigh. "It seems their East Pavilion truly has run out of capable talent."
Although Zhao Shui's contracted genjutsu, [Kotoamatsukami], was a legendary ability that made many experts throughout the city wary, the Zhao Family had long since established strict, ironclad regulations beforehand.
A forbidden, absolute technique like [Kotoamatsukami]—which possessed the terrifying power to permanently rewrite another person's consciousness—was completely barred from being used against fellow clan members. If Zhao Shui dared to unleash it on his own blood during the competition, it would be treated as a capital offense and a major clan taboo.
At best, his eyes would be brutally gouged out before he was stripped of his cultivation and expelled. At worst, he would be executed on the spot by the enforcement elders. There would absolutely be no leniency whatsoever.
As far as he knew, the junior Zhao Shui's Mangekyo Sharingan had already suffered a severe decline in Ocular Power. The boy had drained his visual acuity performing several dark, underhanded deeds for the former patriarch, Zhao Fugaku.
Logically speaking, under such brutal systemic restrictions and with fading sight, Zhao Shui should never have been entered into the Patriarch Competition. Yet, that stubborn old fool Zhao Xuansu had thrown him into the arena anyway.
This desperate gamble made Zhao Dingtian instantly realize one undeniable truth: the East Pavilion had absolutely no one else left to use. They were completely bankrupt of talent, which was exactly why Zhao Xuansu had resorted to playing a broken card like Zhao Shui.
"The Zhao Family has been fractured for far too long," Zhao Dingtian murmured, setting down the roster as a cold, calculating gleam surfaced in his ancient eyes. "If Zhao Quan can successfully seize the position of patriarch this time, there will no longer be any need for the other three pavilions to exist."
"In Magic City, there can only be one true Zhao Family. And that is my Southern Pavilion."
A meaningful, chilling smile spread across his wrinkled face. He had already secretly orchestrated everything behind the scenes.
This upcoming Patriarch Competition was not merely an opportunity for his grandson, Zhao Quan, to claim the title of patriarch. It was the ultimate catalyst for the Southern Pavilion to violently consolidate the factions of the other three branches and establish absolute rule over the entire clan.
As long as Zhao Quan dominated the arena and ruthlessly suppressed the younger generation, Zhao Dingtian would seize that exact moment of triumph to announce the total, mandatory merger of the four pavilions.
If the elders of the other branches submitted willingly, so be it. But if anyone dared to voice an objection... he wouldn't mind triggering a bloody, thorough purge across the entire clan.
After all, in his eyes, only those of the Southern Pavilion carried the true, direct lineage of their ancestors. The inhabitants of the East, West, and North pavilions were nothing more than insignificant side branches with diluted, impure bloodlines.
If the lives of those side-branch clansmen were extinguished in the process, it wouldn't matter in the slightest. In the future, the juniors of his Southern Pavilion could simply sire a few more children to replenish the numbers.
Beep, beep, beep—!
Just as his dark ambitions crystallized, the piercing, high-priority emergency alarm on Zhao Dingtian's phone suddenly shattered the silence of the main hall.
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