Dustin moved with blinding speed, far too fast for the naked eye to follow. This was his peak evasive ability, the limit of his physical prowess. A bullet grazed his skull.

Bang!

It shattered a thick tree trunk behind him—so thick that two men could barely encompass it—exploding into a million splinters. The sheer force far surpassed that of a typical bullet.

Dustin was surprised. Metal Mask was even more astonished.

"You dodged it?" Incredulity laced his voice. He himself wouldn't have been able to react in time.

With a fierce glare, Metal Mask again aimed his gun and fired. But Dustin was prepared. He moved in a blur, rendering Metal Mask's aim useless. In an instant, he stood before Metal Mask.

A flash of cold light, and Metal Mask winced. His gun-hand dropped, fear flooding his features. He hadn't even seen Dustin move before his arm was severed. He didn't even know what weapon had been used; only a cold glare and a terrifying presence preceded the injury.

Panicked, Metal Mask retreated, popping a pill to staunch the bleeding.

"What…martial art was that?" he gasped.

"The Fox family's," Dustin replied coolly.

Metal Mask's eyes widened. The Fox family's martial art? They hadn't found it during the massacre. His face darkened. He'd brought the gun and bullets from headquarters as his trump card against Dustin, yet Dustin had effortlessly evaded it.

His gaze hardening, Metal Mask turned to flee. It was his only option. He wouldn't return to the organization.

But Dustin's patience had snapped. He wouldn't let Metal Mask escape. With a burst of speed, he intercepted Metal Mask again and again, each time Metal Mask changed direction. Finally, Metal Mask realized escape was impossible.

"No matter how strong you are, before the invincible Divine Hall, you're just an ant!" Metal Mask spat. "Revenge? Ha! You'll never get it!" He suddenly fell to his knees. "All hail the Blood God!" he cried, collapsing onto his side.

Dustin's expression changed. He rushed to Metal Mask's side, only to see black blood oozing from his lips, his skin melting away as his body spontaneously combusted. Within moments, he was reduced to ashes. Dustin's face darkened further. He'd anticipated Metal Mask taking poison and prepared an antidote, but Metal Mask hadn't used poison; he'd simply uttered a phrase and died, his body disintegrating too quickly for intervention.

"It happened to Ace too!" Howard shouted.

Dustin saw that Ace had also burst into flames, the conflagration unstoppable. Both men were reduced to ashes, leaving no trace.

"A Martial Saint…how could he die so willingly?" Howard was shocked, his composure shaken. A Martial Saint was an unparalleled figure in any organization, their attainment exceptionally rare. Their presence alone instilled fear.

"The Blood God…" Dustin murmured, a dark look in his eyes. Metal Mask had invoked that name with reverence and fanaticism before his death. Who was this Blood God? Was he behind the Fox family massacre? Too many mysteries remained.

"Sir, thank you," Dustin said gratefully to Howard.

"Don't mention it," Howard waved dismissively. "You're the Sorensen family heir. It's my duty to assist you. Consider me Howard. We'll all be at your command."

Dustin's expression shifted. Apollo Sorensen had founded the Sorensen family thirty years ago. Their villa held a storeroom, undoubtedly containing Apollo's martial arts techniques and treasures—all now Dustin's. Inheriting the Sorensen family was an unexpected bonus.

"Please allow me to explain our situation," Howard bowed.

"Please do," Dustin agreed. He already commanded Hell Hall; the reclusive Sorensen family might not offer much more. He didn't plan to focus on them extensively.

Howard explained, "Thirty years ago, Master Apollo fought Draco Leo of the Leo family atop Mount Taolo. Master Apollo won."

Dustin's face tightened. 'Apollo won?' He'd always heard Draco had won. How had the story changed? If Apollo had won, was he the world's strongest? It was hard to believe, especially given Apollo's years of unexplained disappearance.

"After Mount Taolo, Master Apollo returned once, seemingly well but also unwell. He spoke of impending change, then left instructions, marking a path to find someone to fulfill his legacy—you."

Dustin nodded, uninterested in Apollo's disappearance. He'd let it be, avoiding extensive investigation.

Howard produced a box, handing it to Dustin with a serious expression. Inside was a ring set with a green emerald.

"Your token. Those who possess it command our obedience," Howard stated firmly.

Dustin listened, distracted, the ring holding little significance for him.

"Master Apollo established an organization in his youth. It thrived. This ring commands its members. None will disobey," Howard smiled.

"What organization?" Dustin asked.

"Star Tower," Howard replied.

Dustin froze. Star Tower? The world's strongest organization, unmatched in power and influence, brimming with formidable martial artists.