Chapter 487: Black-Clothed Man Translator: Tim Editor: GlobeGlotter

“Qianbei, we wanbei are both disciples of the Black Capital Sect. Please forgive us,” the black-clothed man begged.

Black Capital Sect? Ye Mo found the name familiar. He remembered receiving a “Black Capital” card after killing Daoist Xian. So, they were from Daoist Xian’s sect.

No longer interested in questioning them, Ye Mo casually threw two fireballs.

Afterwards, Ye Mo went to the cold woman’s location. Upon arriving, he found something amiss. The woman wasn't there, meaning she fled after he saved her.

Did she know he wanted to examine the items she acquired last night? Impossible. She didn't know who rescued her. Ye Mo frowned; she was cunning. He sensed enmity, but couldn't understand why.

Ye Mo shook his head, dismissing the thought. The woman posed no threat. Even with immortal cultivation-related items, without resources, she remained inconsequential.

After a while, convinced the woman wouldn't return, Ye Mo left the hotel disappointed.

Back on his hotel's top floor, he found Zhang Hua conversing with Han Yan. Both rose upon seeing him.

“Zhang Hua, why are you here?” Ye Mo asked curiously.

Zhang Hua quickly bowed. “Qianbei, I obtained the black rising pill and knew I had nowhere else to go.”

Ye Mo understood. Zhang Hua cleverly sought refuge where no one dared to rob.

Ye Mo nodded. “Okay, stay here.” He didn't mind the youth leveraging his protection.

“Ye-Qianbei, I am a disciple of the Wu Dang Guang Yao Temple. My master has passed away, and I fear others will covet my dao techniques. I have nowhere to go. If your sect needs disciples, I am willing to join,” Zhang Hua said respectfully.

Another lone wolf. Zhang Hua was shrewd, realizing he'd attracted attention. A good recruit for Flowing Snake. Ye Mo said, “I don't have a sect, but I own Luo Yue Pharmaceutical. If you wish to join, go to Flowing Snake. No need to call me ‘Qianbei’; I'm not that much older.”

“Yes, Big Brother Ye, I'll join Luo Yue. I'm also skilled in medicine making,” Zhang Hua replied immediately.

“Then you two leave tomorrow. Zhang Hua to Flowing Snake; Han Yan, return to Beijing. Things might happen tomorrow; I can’t guarantee your safety. It's best you leave early,” Ye Mo decided.

…

The next morning, Ye Mo sent Zhang Hua and Han Yan away before returning to Broken Top Mountain; only the spirit well warranted his return.

Fewer people remained. Sects obtaining the black rising pill likely departed.

Ye Mo scanned Gourd Cave's elders, noticing no absences. Gourd Cave wouldn't dare attack Han Yan and the others unless they attacked first.

Feng Wu mounted the stage. “Today concludes our hidden sects' tournament. The remaining competitors are their sects' elite, geniuses among geniuses. They are our assets; please show restraint and avoid unnecessary injuries. Let the matches begin!”

“Hold on,” a voice interrupted before Feng Wu could descend.

All eyes turned to the speaker.

A black-clothed man, appearing in his twenties, approached the stage.

He saluted. “China's heroes are gathered. I wish to bring my disciple to compete, to test the mettle of Chinese masters.”

Feng Wu frowned. The man’s unimpeded access meant he'd subdued everyone outside. He wasn't ordinary, but why the provocative tone?

Feng Wu doubted everyone possessed Ye Mo's strength, so he refused. “Our tournament has limited spots, and today is the final. Watch, if you wish, but leave if you cause trouble,” Feng Wu warned.

The man's repeated use of “you Chinese people” indicated he wasn't Chinese.

“Do Chinese martial artists fear our challenge?” the black-clothed man pressed.

“You seek trouble. State your name. Regardless of your origin, I, Feng Wu, accept your challenge,” Feng Wu said coldly.

“Excellent! My origin is irrelevant. Twelve remain in your tournament; I have one disciple. Your geniuses can fight him in turn. If one defeats my disciple, I'll concede. If all twelve fail, my request is simple,” the black-clothed man declared, confident of victory.

Feng Wu narrowed his eyes. “Your disciple can't compete. The tournament spots are set. But if you wish, I'll exchange a few moves.”

“You?” The black-clothed man looked contemptuously at Feng Wu. “You're no match for me. If you fight, I demand a reward.”

“Is that your request?” Feng Wu retorted.

The black-clothed man laughed. “Precisely. My request: if I win, I receive the four crystals.”

“Dream on!” Xiang Mingwang exclaimed, rising abruptly.

The man remained unfazed. “Lack of faith in defeating me? Haha! China, the so-called land of ancient martial arts, lacks the courage to fight. What a joke!”

“Arrogant fool. I'll teach you a lesson.” Feng Wu prepared to attack.

A middle-aged man intervened. “Martial Brother, no need to deal with insects. Leave it to me.”

Feng Wu recognized Zheng Chao and nodded. Though his martial brother loved the spotlight, he was a formidable fighter. “Be careful,” he advised.

The black-clothed man instructed his disciple, “Xihu, watch your master teach a lesson.”

“Yes, Master.” The disciple left the stage.

Zheng Chao sneered, drawing his long sword. “Coward, reveal your origin. Prepare yourself.”

Zheng Chao's sword qi enveloped the area as he attacked. The black-clothed man, with two short blades, reacted with unbelievable speed, striking Zheng Chao’s back.

Zheng Chao, caught off guard, spat blood. Before he could fall, he was kicked off the stage.

Silence fell. An earth level tertiary master defeated? The black-clothed man was incredibly strong.