Chapter Eight: The Deal

"Stop right there! Where are you from? Are you trying to enter the city?" A soldier blocked Zhang Xiao’s path. Most of these soldiers were unarmed, but their military physique meant their abilities far surpassed those of ordinary people after the world's transformation. As such, few dared to challenge them—though Zhang Xiao was an exception. In terms of both level and attributes, he easily outmatched them all.

Zhang Xiao nodded and said, "I live in the city. It's too chaotic outside, so I'm just heading home. Isn't it allowed to enter the city now?"

"You can go in, but we have to check you for contraband," replied the soldier, who then began to pat Zhang Xiao down. Zhang Xiao furrowed his brow but refrained from reacting—after all, now was not the time to make enemies of the army.

"What are these?" The soldier had opened Zhang Xiao's backpack and was questioning the stack of children's books inside. Zhang Xiao simply opened the bag fully and dumped all the children's books onto the ground, then shook out the empty bag, saying, "Brother, these are all children's picture books I brought for my younger brother's kid. I have nothing illegal on me, just let me through."

After a final check, the soldier found nothing suspicious and said, "Alright, just sign here and you can go in." Zhang Xiao quickly began repacking the books. Fortunately, the soldiers were principled—they only checked for contraband and didn’t flip through the books. Otherwise, if the secret within these picture books were discovered, Zhang Xiao couldn't guarantee he could protect them from being snatched away by a mob.

The once vibrant city was now in utter disarray—shattered glass everywhere, smashed tables and chairs, a brand-new BMW Z4 reduced to a heap of scrap metal. Pedestrians clustered in small groups, some four or five, others more than a dozen, exchanging idle conversation in the streets.

In these chaotic times, the only way to avoid trouble was to join an organization, but Zhang Xiao had no interest in any of that. He strode purposefully toward his own home. Gazing at the dust-covered house, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Luckily, aside from broken windows, everything else seemed intact.

Just as he reached for his keys, the door suddenly swung open. Two young women strutted out, both dressed in revealing camisoles, their hair dyed in garish colors. Zhang Xiao was momentarily taken aback, and the two girls were equally surprised to see him. The one on the left sized Zhang Xiao up and, apparently deciding he wasn’t a threat, snapped, "Who the hell are you? Get out of the way, good dogs don’t block the path."

At her words, Zhang Xiao’s face darkened. He reached out and seized the girl by the neck. Before she could react, a quick twist snapped her neck, and he tossed her aside. The other girl, clearly unused to such violence, collapsed to her knees, her lips trembling too hard to speak.

"Get lost!" Zhang Xiao didn’t even glance at her as he kicked her aside and strode into the house. The sight that greeted him filled him with rage. The air was thick with smoke; five or six punks in eccentric clothing lounged about, drinking and smoking. Even more infuriating, his parents’ memorial portraits lay smashed on the floor, one of the thugs' boots trampling them.

Blinded by fury, Zhang Xiao lunged forward, grabbed the offender by the neck, and hurled him against the wall. The force was so great that the man’s skull shattered upon impact, killing him instantly.

Only then did the other thugs sober up from their haze. They’d seen someone come in but hadn’t cared—after all, in the city, only the army could stand up to their Iron Hand Gang. Given the smoke-filled room, no one had seen Zhang Xiao clearly, mistaking him for one of their own until he struck.

"Who the hell are you, making trouble here?" a thug leaped from the sofa, shouting at Zhang Xiao. Ignoring him, Zhang Xiao calmly picked up the memorial portraits and gently brushed the dust from their surfaces. Seeing their presence so blatantly disregarded, the thugs grabbed weapons and advanced. Though only low-ranking members, ever since joining the Iron Hand Gang, they'd never been treated this way.

But today, they'd picked the wrong target. As one punk rushed at him with a wooden stick, Zhang Xiao didn’t even turn his head; a single kick sent the man flying. A sickening crack sounded as the thug’s chest caved in, and he collapsed to the ground, clearly beyond saving. The others were stunned by Zhang Xiao’s overwhelming strength—none dared move.

"Brother, we’re with the Iron Hand Gang. If we’ve offended you, please let it go," one of them pleaded, hoping the gang’s name would make Zhang Xiao back down. Iron Hand Gang? Zhang Xiao’s mind drifted—before his rebirth, there was indeed such a gang in the city. Their leader, Iron Tiger, had been a notorious crime boss. After the world changed, he rallied all the city’s hoodlums under his banner, becoming the undisputed kingpin. By the second phase of the world’s transformation, he had also joined the Maoshan Sect, becoming an outer disciple and steward, and the Iron Hand Gang reached the height of its power.

But a mere gang wouldn’t make Zhang Xiao retreat. After gently setting his parents’ portraits on the table, he turned with a cold sneer. "Big talk. But you broke into my home and desecrated my parents’ memorials. Even if the King of Heaven himself came, you’d still die."

As he spoke, a shard of glass appeared in his hand. In one swift motion, he slit the speaker's throat. The rest tried to fight back, but the gap between them and Zhang Xiao was insurmountable. The strongest among them was barely level three—some were only level one. How could they possibly be his match? A punch from Zhang Xiao caved in a thug's skull. In a matter of moments, he dispatched them all.

After dragging the corpses outside, Zhang Xiao surveyed the wreckage of his childhood home, a wave of sadness washing over him. But he knew he would no longer live here. He took only his parents’ portraits, leaving everything else behind.

He kicked over a nearby paint bucket, lit a rag with his lighter, and tossed it onto the paint. "Whoosh!" The flames quickly engulfed the furniture. Without a backward glance, Zhang Xiao walked out the door.

In the administrative building of the Z City Military District, Major General Zhao Liang of the Thirty-fifth Army frowned as he pored over the latest reports.

Chaos reigned—levels, attributes, and the strange device like a wristwatch on his arm. What did it all mean? Aliens? Heaven’s will? Zhao Liang’s mind was a muddle. The city’s administration had collapsed; the military commission had taken over all operations. But even if Zhao Liang wanted to restore order, he simply couldn’t. What could he use? The Iron Hand Gang had arisen, their ranks swelling. The army had personnel, but not a single bullet to spare.

Some soldiers had obtained firearm proficiency skills from the mission giver, but they were few and far between. They couldn’t just go around shooting people. Besides, anyone killed would be resurrected the next day. The thought made Zhao Liang feel as though a bomb had gone off in his head.

"Report!" A soldier entered. It was Deputy Staff Officer Gao Qishan. Zhao Liang forced a smile. "Old Gao, what brings you here in person?"

Gao Qishan hurried forward. "Someone named Zhang Xiao is outside—he claims he can solve our firearms issue. I checked myself; he really does have something that lets our soldiers use guns."

Gao then explained in detail the miraculous properties of the children’s books Zhang Xiao had brought and how they worked.

Zhao Liang’s face lit up. "What are you waiting for? Bring him in immediately!" But Gao’s expression darkened. "There is one condition."

"A condition? What does he want?" Zhao Liang calmed down. It was only natural for someone to ask for compensation in matters of such importance.

"If he wanted money or food, that would be easy," Gao said with difficulty. "But he wants an item from the museum."

"Is it a national treasure?" After the world changed, the military had immediately secured the city’s granaries, treasury, and museum, knowing the importance of the museum’s artifacts. Zhao Liang was displeased—national treasures couldn’t be traded.

Gao shook his head. "Not a national treasure. It’s a material called Lunar Stone. I saw it when we put it in storage—it’s just an ordinary material, nothing special."

Relieved, Zhao Liang said, "Alright, take me to see him. If he can really solve our problem, what’s the harm in giving him that?"

At that moment, Zhang Xiao sat quietly in the office, waiting. Initially, he’d only planned to trade the children’s books for some gold. But now, he’d changed his mind. With all his attributes nearly maxed out, once he joined a sect, he’d become an inner disciple and rarely leave. What use was gold? He needed rare materials—these were always valuable, whether for crafting weapons or for trade.

Before his rebirth, he’d heard of a top-grade material called Lunar Stone hidden in the Z City Museum. No one knew its true worth yet—this was the perfect opportunity to acquire it.