The underground arbitration hall had not changed.
Still no windows.
Still no clocks.
Still no unnecessary decoration.
Only stone walls, muted lights, and the oppressive silence created when too many powerful people gathered in one place.
I stood at the center of the circular chamber.
Alone.
Around me sat representatives of martial clans, contract enforcers, neutral observers, and legal intermediaries—people who lived in the gap between law and violence.
Su Qingxue stood slightly behind me, her presence calm but unmistakable. She said nothing, but her eyes missed nothing.
At the far end of the hall, a man finally rose from his seat.
Elder Liang was older than I remembered. His hair had gone fully gray, but his back was straight, his breathing deep and even.
Grandmaster realm.
And unlike his grandson, he was not impulsive.
"Chen Mo," he said slowly. "You accuse my family of breaking martial neutrality, manipulating mercenaries, and attempting public assassinations."
"I didn't accuse," I replied calmly. "I documented."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall.
I placed my documents on the central stone table and pushed them forward.
"Surveillance footage," I continued.
"Financial transfers."
"Contract chains linking private enforcement teams to shell corporations."
"And testimonies obtained under oath."
One by one, screens lit up.
The hall grew colder.
Elder Liang's expression remained controlled, but the veins at his temple tightened.
"You are young," he said. "And arrogant. Do you think law binds martial clans?"
"No," I replied evenly. "I think exposure binds everyone."
Silence.
Then.
A low chuckle echoed from the shadows.
"Well said."
A man stepped forward.
Tall. Lean. Dressed plainly.
His presence didn't press down—it erased.
Hidden Realm.
Su Qingxue's fingers tightened slightly.
"I am Gu Wenhai," the man said, smiling faintly. "Director of the Eastern Arbitration Council."
The room stiffened.
So this was him.
The real power behind enforcement.
"Elder Liang," Gu Wenhai continued mildly, "your family crossed three red lines. Public casualties. Government attention. And unauthorized mercenary use."
Elder Liang bowed slightly. "We lost control of a junior."
"A convenient excuse," Gu Wenhai replied.
His gaze shifted to me.
"And you," he said, "are either very brave—or very dangerous."
I met his eyes without flinching.
"I'm a lawyer," I said. "I only deal in consequences."
Gu Wenhai laughed softly.
"I like you," he said. "That makes things complicated."
—
The verdict came quickly.
The Liang family would:
Pay compensation
Withdraw from city arbitration for five years
Hand over Liang Hao for internal discipline
No execution.
No blood.
But humiliation.
In the martial world, that was worse.
As the hall emptied, Gu Wenhai stopped me.
"You've changed the balance," he said quietly. "The city won't forget this."
"Neither will I," I replied.
He smiled faintly. "Good. Because you're now part of it."
—
Outside, dawn broke pale and cold.
Su Qingxue finally exhaled.
"You provoked the council," she said.
"I forced them to choose," I replied. "Neutrality only exists until it becomes inconvenient."
She studied me for a long moment.
"What are you really trying to build?" she asked.
I didn't answer immediately.
"I've seen a world where fists ruled unchecked," I said finally. "And another where law pretended not to see them."
I looked out over the city.
"I want a system where neither can lie."
She nodded slowly.
"Then you'll need allies," she said. "Not followers."
"I know."
—
By afternoon, the consequences hit.
The media reported a "coordinated crackdown on illegal underground activity."
Several martial businesses quietly shut down.
Two professors requested meetings with me.
And a sealed envelope appeared in my dorm mailbox.
Inside was a single card.
Gu Wenhai
Consultant — Eastern Council
No invitation.
A warning.
—
That night, cultivation came easily.
Inner breath flowed smoothly, reinforcing muscle and bone. Pain was still there—but now it obeyed.
True Force: threshold reached.
I opened my eyes to find Su Qingxue sitting across from me, legs crossed, already waiting.
"My family wants to know where I stand," she said calmly.
"And?" I asked.
She met my gaze.
"With you," she said. "But not blindly."
I smiled.
"That's exactly what I need."
—
Far across the city, Gu Wenhai stood on a high balcony, phone pressed to his ear.
"Yes," he said quietly. "He's confirmed."
A pause.
"No," he continued. "Not a threat."
Another pause.
Then a smile.
"A variable."
He hung up and looked toward the glow of the city.
"A lawyer who makes martial clans afraid," he murmured.
"Let's see how far you go, Chen Mo."
—
The city slept.
But beneath it, rules were being rewritten.
And this time.
They were written in ink and blood.