"There's absolutely no way anyone can open the wooden box!"

The next morning, May 5th.

In the Great City's Eighth Ring, the Grand Statue Academy.

An elderly man dressed in satin waved a cane shaped like a fox's head, speaking with conviction.

"There are exile runes inside the box. If any transcendent tries to force it open, everything within will vanish into the void!"

A middle-aged man standing before him asked curiously, "What if it's opened through normal means?"

"Even less likely," the old man replied with a smile. "To open the box, there's only one way."

"What is it?" the middle-aged man inquired.

"Blood," the elder said, leaning on his fox-headed cane with a deep gaze. "The blood of a god."

The middle-aged man suddenly understood. "No wonder... God's blood must come from either divine remains or from someone who has ascended to divinity... Both are exceedingly rare."

He then asked with curiosity, "Teacher, what exactly is inside the box? Our actions could attract unnecessary trouble..."

"Don't ask me; I don't know either," the old man shrugged.

The middle-aged man was taken aback. "You don't know??"

"Indeed," the elder chuckled. "All I know is that the box contains relics of Dusk, but the specifics are beyond me."

"Dusk? Which Dusk?" The middle-aged man was initially shocked but quickly realized, gasping, "You mean... the Speaker of the Old Council?"

His expression changed dramatically, a chill running down his spine.

The Old Council was the world's largest taboo organization, the most secretive society...

It was said to have nine members, with no one knowing their true identities. Yet, it was certain that each stood at the pinnacle of the world, each able to...

Gaze upon gods.

Or rather, look levelly at the divine.

And Dusk was one of those nine members, also serving as the council's speaker!

So, a relic of a ‘god' has gone missing?

The elder adjusted his fox-headed cane, lowering his eyelids to conceal a strange light. "Yes, it's a relic of Dusk. I'm just responsible for the transfer, meant to hand it over to the city lord... Don't ask more; I don't know. Let the underlings continue searching."

"...Understood, Director." The middle-aged man bowed in reverence, his legs trembling.

………………

At home.

Waking up refreshed, Chen Xiang took a deep breath as a gust of wind seemed to rise. He felt the changes in himself; a gentle leap led to a loud thud as his head collided with the ceiling of the secret room...

That jump was at least a meter!

He had truly grown stronger.

Much stronger.

"That black flame..." Chen Xiang felt a chill run down his spine. The black flame seemed to have transferred the essence of the sunglasses-wearing man to him...

It was like a plunder!

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

And the man, stripped of his essence, had turned into nothing more than white ashes.

Just remnants.

This was both a good and bad thing.

Chen Xiang's heart raced as he pondered. He could foresee using this power to grow stronger, but he also sensed that behind this miraculous flame lay a desire.

If he couldn't control this desire and recklessly unleashed the black flames, reaping countless lives to gain strength... would he not become a demon?

After contemplating for a long time, he shook his head to dismiss the thoughts but soon grew anxious.

There was no phone at home.

And his own cell phone had been vaporized in the flames...

Pressing on the wall, the hidden room behind the closet slowly opened. Chen Xiang cautiously stepped out; the front door appeared unchanged, securely blocked by the refrigerator and wardrobe.

Peering through a small crack, he saw that the shotgun was gone, everything was clean; it was as if no one had died...

Chen Xiang let out a slight sigh of relief. He didn't know who had taken the shotgun, but it didn't matter—most likely a neighbor trying to score a freebie... perhaps Old Li next door.

He grabbed a bedsheet to cover the last gap in the door before retreating back into the secret room.

"For now, I can't contact my sister or second brother. There have been gunshots outside; it seems like the Fire Gate and Crocodile Gate are still in conflict... Gang war?"

Chen Xiang recalled the words of Assistant Wu and chuckled lightly; a skirmish between two underground factions could be called a war?

He turned on the TV to check the news for anything significant. It was still that exaggerated red-haired host, who didn't mention the gang conflicts at all, only bringing up old stories like "the box has yet to be found" and "Prince of Donghong Country will be arriving soon."

Switching off the TV, Chen Xiang opened his backpack to closely examine the wooden box, placing it aside before diving into his freshman textbook on the Mystic Arts.

The book detailed various concepts related to the Mystic Arts and included a cultivation method called the "Giant Technique."

As Chen Xiang flipped through, he grew increasingly astonished.

According to the text, the Mystic Arts had three gates: the first gate focused on refining the flesh and bones. If one could break into this gate, they could be called a "master of the Mystic Arts," impervious to blades and guns.

If one practiced the Giant Technique, they could resonate their bones and muscles, unleashing formidable defensive strength, able to withstand bullets...

He thought of Wu Shangpin, who could take six rounds capable of shattering a rhinoceros's skull with only superficial injuries.

The second gate of the Mystic Arts focuses on refining the internal organs. Breaking into this gate earns the title of "Martial Artist." This requires both practice and understanding.

Once mastered, one could cover a hundred meters in a single breath, their voice booming like thunder, completely disregarding small-caliber firearms, even surviving a shot from an anti-material sniper rifle...

As for the third gate, it seeks a "spirit strong and will resolute." Breaking into this level allows one's mental will to slightly influence reality, representing a state of transcending the mundane yet not fully entering the extraordinary, hence called an "Extraordinary Being."

Only upon reaching this step can one truly lay a solid foundation, withstand the so-called extraordinary torrent, and, after receiving divine grace, become extraordinary!

"Mystic Arts Master, Martial Artist, Extraordinary Being..."

Chen Xiang's eyes sparkled; he felt a clear path ahead!

But he soon felt deflated. Even with a cultivation method, without the invaluable visualization chart, he couldn't truly practice...

Where could he obtain such a chart?

Was he supposed to buy some chickens and ducks, burn them with black flames, and plunder their essence?

Yet the danger was imminent. Not just the Crocodile Gate, but that box—if discovered... Huh? The box?

Chen Xiang perked up, taking the wooden box in his hands again to examine it closely.

"What are you—fortune or misfortune?"

Finally, he sliced his finger.

According to what the girl had said, she had seen a woman open a similar box with a drop of blood.

As he stared intently, a drop of crimson blood plopped into the circular hole embraced by the giant statue's hands, gradually soaking in...

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

The box opened.

"Looks like any blood will do..."

Chen Xiang murmured, fixating on the slowly opening box, his curiosity reaching its peak.

What could it possibly hold?

He focused, soon finding the answer.

Inside the box... was another box.

He nearly gasped for breath.

The inner box resembled a small urn. Chen Xiang pulled it out and, at first glance, noticed its circular hole. Without hesitation, he pressed his still-bleeding finger against it.

‘Plop!'

The inner box... also opened.

A surge of murmuring voices rushed into Chen Xiang's ears, only to dissipate instantly, leaving behind a soft sigh.

Chen Xiang was left dumbfounded.

"What the hell..."

He peered into the box.

Inside lay a token, a spearhead, and a scroll. The token was an ancient bronze color, looking solemn as it lay inverted in the wooden box.

The spearhead was covered in cracks and radiated a dazzling golden hue, as bright as staring at the sun.

As for the scroll, its material was unknown, but four large characters were inscribed on the seal:

Old Council .

Old Council?

Chen Xiang didn't dwell on it and casually grabbed the token.

It was heavy.

One side of the token read *Dusk , and when Chen Xiang flipped it over, five small characters appeared:

May Emperor Titan grant protection .

Chen Xiang: (？_？)