Chapter 112: Joining the Dragon Squad

“Brother, were those people just now in cahoots with the two men from before?” Yang Ying asked as soon as she saw Yang Wenhao return.

“Probably,” Yang Wenhao nodded. Their attitudes were all similar; they must be on the same side.

“Then, brother...” Yang Ying clearly remembered how badly those two men were beaten by Yang Wenhao before. She didn’t understand how her brother was so formidable, but she was grateful he had protected her.

“It’s fine. Those people wouldn’t dare harm me; they’d probably put me on a pedestal instead,” Yang Wenhao smiled.

Judging by their earlier behavior, a Martial Grandmaster must be the pinnacle of martial prowess. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have refrained from acting despite Yang Wenhao’s provocation.

“If something happens to you, brother, you don’t have to worry about us. We can manage on our own,” Yang Ying said.

“No worries. We’ve played all day, and you must be hungry. Come on, I’ll take you to eat. Don’t be polite,” Yang Wenhao replied.

Soon, Yang Wenhao led everyone to a high-end restaurant.

Yang Ying didn’t ask why her brother had so much money.

As they ordered and ate their favorite dishes, the people looking for Yang Wenhao arrived.

An elderly man dressed in a black Zhongshan suit approached. His white beard and hair gave him a distinguished aura, radiating the subtle yet formidable presence of an innate powerhouse. His gait was steady and confident. Behind him followed the suited men from earlier.

They came right up to Yang Wenhao, but he seemed oblivious, continuing to eat.

Yang Ying noticed them early and, seeing Yang Wenhao’s indifferent reaction, kept quiet though she felt uneasy.

Sun Wenjia and the others shared her feelings. Though they said nothing, being watched like that while eating was uncomfortable.

After finishing the meat on his plate, Yang Wenhao slowly put down his chopsticks and turned to the elderly man. “Please, have a seat.”

The suited men twitched their lips in discomfort—there were exactly five seats here, with no extra place to sit.

Sensing the awkwardness, Yang Ying quickly stood and offered the elderly man a seat. “Grandpa, please sit here.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the elder took the seat vacated by Yang Ying, sitting beside Yang Wenhao.

“Wenjia, Lixuan, Mengyi, I’m going to the restroom. Would you like to come along?” Yang Wenhao asked.

At first, everyone was confused, but then they nodded and left.

“All right. My sisters are gone. What do you want to say?” Yang Wenhao asked.

“I’ve looked into your background,” the elder began but was interrupted.

Yang Wenhao cut him off. “I know your department. I’ve visited the Martial Arts Forum. Don’t mention digging up people’s pasts—it’s embarrassing.”

The elder’s face showed some awkwardness. “You’ve been to the Martial Arts Forum? Who introduced you?”

Noticing Yang Wenhao’s odd expression, the elder clarified, “No offense, just curious.”

“Ghost Cultivation Sect, Martial Cultivation Ping,” Yang Wenhao replied.

“No wonder,” the elder nodded. “Since you know about our department, don’t you want to serve the country?”

“Serve the country?” Yang Wenhao asked. “What’s in it for me?”

The elder’s lips twitched. Probably no one in China treated their country so casually as Yang Wenhao. Most sought honor in serving, but Yang Wenhao only thought of benefits.

But seeing Yang Wenhao’s youth and terrifying power, the elder didn’t mind. “There are benefits. As long as you earn enough points, you can redeem whatever you want.”

“Points?” Yang Wenhao looked at him with interest.

It wasn’t a secret. The elder explained.

In their department, completing missions earned points. Points could be exchanged for many things—even millennium wild ginseng.

This was exactly what Yang Wenhao needed. Just like a system, complete tasks and earn points.

“I see. Sounds good,” Yang Wenhao said. Though he lacked patriotic fervor, he held great fondness for his homeland.

After pondering, Yang Wenhao said, “I’ll join, but on one condition: I won’t be forced; freedom must be guaranteed.”

“Naturally,” the elder nodded. “We have no right to restrict your freedom. All tasks are voluntary, and you have the choice.”

In the end, Yang Wenhao chose to join. To establish himself in this world, he needed to align with a faction.

Though he didn’t know about others, this organization was likely the largest in China.

It was called the Dragon Group, which, as Yang Wenhao suspected, wielded immense influence throughout China and even worldwide.

Members of the Dragon Group were spread all over China.

The elder before him, Su Weihua, was the head of the Fengzhou branch.

“You’re strong, young friend, but status and rank must be earned. Forgive my inability to help,” Su said as he handed Yang Wenhao a token. Then he took a drop of blood and a fingerprint.

Yang Wenhao had never seen joining a faction be so complicated.

This was to ensure security; such tokens were impossible to forge.

Looking at the dark iron token in his hand, Yang Wenhao shook his head.

Black iron—this was the lowest rank.

“Well, with my strength, becoming a master or king would be too easy,” he muttered.

But, as it turned out, there was no such thing as master or king either.

Ranks above black iron included bronze, silver, gold, and diamond.

The token represented one’s status but not necessarily strength—though it gave a rough estimate.

Black iron ranged from third to second tier; first tier was bronze; postnatal was silver; innate was gold; and the Martial Grandmaster was diamond-level.

Those above that were so powerful that even uttering their name shook China.

That was the power of strength in this world.

Yang Wenhao assessed his own power. At the very least, he was far stronger than a martial expert.

He lacked some offensive techniques, so his combat power might be slightly weaker.

But if others knew he possessed hundreds of secret martial arts, they wouldn’t dare challenge him.

Foundation Building stage three was enough to dominate China. If he were a Golden Core cultivator, he’d be revered as an immortal.

(The End)