First Fatty stepped forward without hesitation. The other seven fatties moved with him, forming a solid wall in front of Alex.


    First Fatty rolled his shoulders and let out a thunderousugh.


    "I was wondering why I heard dogs barking just now," he roared, his voice shaking the rafters. He stood there like a mountain-broad, unmovable, towering over the rest. “Turns out a pack of mutts from the Servants'' Discipline Department came to make noise in our Kitchen."


    Across from them stood twenty men clustered around Wang Junhao. They wore servant uniforms, but their sleeves were embroidered with a bold character -"Discipline." It gleamed like a badge of authority.


    They weren''t ordinary servants. They carried themselves with the smug confidence of men used to power.


    One of them stepped forward. He was built like a tiger and thick as a bear. The air around him trembled faintly-fifth level of Qi Condensation. His presence pressed down like a stone.


    "Other people might fear the Kitchen," he said coldly, eyes locked on First Fatty, “but the Servants'' Discipline Department doesn''t give a damn about you."


    He tilted his chin.


    “We received a formalint from Wang Junhao regarding an unjust


    recement within the Kitchen," the burly man said coldly, his tone stiff with official authority. “We are acting under the mandate of the Servants'' Discipline Department."


    His eyes swept across them with open contempt.


    "Interfering with this investigation will be treated as direct resistance against departmental enforcement."


    He stepped forward, voice turning sharp.


    "Now tell me are you really foolish enough to stand in our way?"


    Seven Fatty snorted and jabbed a finger toward the burly man.


    "You''re only at the fifth level of Qi Condensation," he shouted. "And you dare to swagger in here? You really don''t know what our Brother Nine is capable of, do you?"


    "Capable of what?" the burly man shot back, stepping forward with deliberate confidence. "I''m the highest-ranked servant in this department. You think I''d be afraid of anyone?"


    His gaze swept past the fatties andnded on Alex.


    There wasn''t even a flicker of caution in his eyes.


    Either Wang Junhao hadn''t told them what happened that day... or they simply didn''t believe it. If they had witnessed it themselves, they would never have dared walk into this kitchen so boldly.


    Alex stepped forward calmly.


    "Big Brother," he said to First Fatty, voice steady, "let me handle them."


    "Brother Nine!" First Fatty protested, turning his massive frame slightly. "We rarely get visitors. And it''s even rarer someone dares to mock the Kitchen. Let us warm up


    a bit first. If we don''t move, all this fat will just keep growing!"


    The other fatties burst into agreement.


    "Yes, Brother!"


    Without hesitation, each of them reached behind the stoves and pulled out a massive iron wok. They gripped them like shields, like blunt weapons forged for war. Eight huge iron pans gleamed under the sun..


    They stepped forward in unison.


    The sight froze the air for a split second.


    Then the twenty members of the Servants'' Discipline Department exploded inughter.


    The burly man wiped a tear from his eye.


    "What are you?" he sneered. "Too poor to afford real weapons?"


    With a sharp metallic whisper, he drew his sword. The de caught the light, thin and deadly.


    He lifted it slightly.


    "This," he said, voice dripping with contempt, "is what a weapon is supposed to look like."


    To tell the truth, after the fight on the tform, the Kitchen had be the richest force in the servant area. They had made a fortune from betting on that battle. Silver flowed into their hands like water.


    But when it came to weapons, none of them cared for swords or spears.


    They had seen Alex fight with an iron wok that day. The way he moved. The way the metal rang when it struck. It wasn''t just effective-it was beautiful.


    From that moment on, the Kitchen made a rule.


    They would only use iron woks as weapons.


    A symbol. A signature. A deration.


    "Brother," Wang Junhao stepped forward, forcing calm into his voice though anger burned in his eyes. "I''m not here to cause chaos. I''m here for justice. Let me fight Number Nine. Win or lose will decide the position. Last time, you agreed that the Number Nine spot would be mine."


    First Fatty stared at him, then let out a harshugh.


    “You bastard surnamed Wang,” he said bluntly. “It was my blind eye that even considered choosing you. Now I thank heaven you never became our Number Nine. And listen carefully-even if you win today, we still won''t give you a ce here."


    Wang Junhao''s face twisted.


    "How dare you!"


    His pride couldn''t take it.


    "If you refuse to give me the Number Nine position," he shouted, voice cracking with rage, "then remember this-my big brother is the leader of the Servants'' Discipline Department! I''ll have him crush this Kitchen. I''ll have him tear it down brick by brick!" "You dare?!" Second Fatty roared, stepping forward with his iron wok raised. "What don''t I dare?!" Wang Junhao snapped back. His eyes were bloodshot now. He had lost control.


    He spun toward the twenty Discipline members behind him.


    "All of you-attack! Beat those fatties down! Make them kneel! Let them beg me to join the Kitchen!"


    His voice rose higher, crazed with ambition.


    "Once I''m in charge of the Kitchen, I''ll reward you all with rare herbs!"


    "Attack!"


    Wang Junhao charged first, iron sword shing as he rushed forward with the Servants'' Discipline Department behind him like a wave of steel.


    "Wang Junhao-face me!" Alex shouted.


    He moved at the same instant, iron wok gripped tight in his hand as he lunged forward.


    "Gaia," Alex said calmly in his mind. "Give me the path. Break them all."


    "Affirmative," Gaia responded.


    In an instant, blue lines, green lines, yellow lines shed across Alex''s vision. Trajectories. Weak points. Angles of attack. Every movementid bare.


    Suddenly, everyone in front of him became a target.


    He was only at the fifth level of Qi Condensation-but that didn''t matter. He could already draw on a portion of his force. Enough.


    More than enough.


    The burly man from the Servants'' Discipline Department let out a coldugh and charged at the fatties, sword raised high.


    The sh was inevitable.


    And the Kitchen was ready.


    It turned into a twenty-versus-nine fight in the blink of an eye.


    Alex could see it clearly-the


    Servants'' Discipline Department was stronger. They trained every day. They controlled other servants through force fighting was their job. The eight fatties, on the other hand,


    spent more time eating snacks and cooking than cultivating.


    "Master," Gaia''s voice sounded in his mind, calm and analytical. "Based on their


    levels, there is a high probability the fatties will be injured.”


    "Then we won''t let them get hurt," Alex replied coldly.


    He rushed forward and roared.


    "Wang Junhao! You''ve pushed this too far! If you want a fight, then we''ll go all out!"


    The air around him exploded.


    The moment Wang Junhao heard the shout, his expression twisted.


    Without hesitation, he shed his hand through the air and activated the Art of Flying Sword.


    His iron de shot upward, then streaked forward like a bolt of lightning. It tore through the air with a sharp, murderous whistle, spinning with lethal precision.


    Alex unleashed the full power of the fifth level of Qi Condensation. He didn''t hide a single ounce of his


    cultivatiger. Sprutial energy surged through his body like a flood breaking through a dam. He poured everything into the iron wok in his hand.  té


    The moment Wang Junhao''s flying sword shot toward him—


    Alex swung.


    The iron wok smashed into the de with terrifying force.


    A deafening crack split the air.


    The sword didn''t just deflect.


    It exploded.


    Metal shattered into dozens of razor-sharp fragments, sting outward like shrapnel from a bomb The broken pieces whistled through the air and tore straight toward the Servants'' Discipline Department.


    "Defend!" someone shouted.


    They hurriedly raised spiritual shields and circted their qi to protect themselves.


    Most reacted in time.


    Some didn''t.


    Several screamed as iron fragments pierced their thighs. One clutched his arm as


    blood sprayed between his fingers. Another staggered backward, a shard


    embedded deep in his chest.


    Before the fight had even truly begun, eight members of the Servants'' Discipline


    Department copsed to the ground.


    Silence fell for half a second.


    The eight fatties stared wide-eyed. The remaining discipline members froze in


    disbelief.


    Wang Junhao hadn''t even reached Alex yet.


    He stood there, pale, heart pounding.


    This was not the same Alex he had faced months ago.


    "I-It''s time to teach them not to mock us!" First Fatty bellowed, recovering from the


    shock. His confidence returned like a wildfire.


    He charged with the other brothers.


    This time, the momentum had shifted.


    The Servants'' Discipline Department was shaken. Their formation was broken. Their


    morale cracked.


    The eight fatties roared and rushed forward, iron woks raised high like war shields. They swung with everything they had.


    ng!


    Bang!


    The courtyard rang with the metallic thunder of iron striking flesh, bone, and hastily


    raised weapons.


    Alex surged forward as well, moving like a storm at the center of chaos. His wok


    shed left and right, each strike backed by solid spiritual power.


    The remaining discipline members, already rattled by the shattered sword, began to


    lose their will to fight. Fear crept into their eyes. Their movements slowed.


    And once fear enters a battlefield—


    The oue is already decided.