"Rules for newcomers?"
"Five thousand silver taels per head?"
At the youth's nasal, contemptuous voice, Wei Yi and the others exchanged looks of mutual astonishment.
They weren't fools—one glance at the scene unfolding before them was enough to discern the truth.
Bullying.
Extortion.
They hadn't expected that their arrival at the Tyrant Sect would be greeted with such open intimidation.
Did these people really take them for easy prey?
"You must be mistaken…" Zhou Heng, the oldest and most composed of the group, stepped forward and spoke first.
"There's no mistake," the youth sneered. "I suggest you pay up without fuss. Don't make us teach you a lesson—you should know that private duels aren't forbidden in the outer sect."
His smirk made it clear he held them in utter disdain.
Zhou Heng's face darkened. The others wore similar expressions.
Back at True Martial Academy, they had all been among the elite—respected by fellow students, treated with courtesy by their instructors. Who would have thought they'd be met with such barefaced extortion upon arrival here?
"Refuse a toast only to drink punishment wine? Mind your tongue, or the wind may cut it off," Pei Qinghe suddenly snapped. "We don't have five thousand silver taels. How about five?"
At his words, the expressions of the outer sect disciples instantly shifted.
The sneering youth narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits.
"Well, well…"
"Newcomers often carry inflated egos, but few dare to speak as you do."
He gave a chilling chuckle.
"I'll give you one final warning out of kindness—this is the Tyrant Sect, not your academy. Whatever you were there, here, you're nobodies."
"We speak for the senior outer disciples. Defy us, and you'll be offending more than just a few. Make enemies of the entire outer sect, and you may not even last until next month's trial."
The moment he said this, a subtle unease crept across the group.
After all, their very purpose in coming here was to pass that trial and enter the inner sect…
Could they afford to make enemies of the senior disciples?
Just then, Wei Yi stepped forward.
"You speak on behalf of the entire outer sect?"
"There must be thousands of senior disciples. How much of this extorted silver will each of them receive?"
Zhou Heng and the others quickly caught on. It was a bluff. There was no way all senior disciples would band together for a paltry sum of silver. Clearly, the threat was hollow.
"Exactly," Xu Huan added with a teasing smile. "If you're sending a representative, at least send someone easier on the eyes. Maybe try again with a fresh face?"
"Right. You claim to speak for everyone, but where's your proof?"
More voices joined in, rejecting the intimidation outright.
The youth's expression turned increasingly sour.
"Fine. Very well…"
"You lot… truly don't know what's good for you!"
Without warning, he lashed out, his claw-like hand aiming directly for Xu Huan, clearly provoked by her earlier mockery.
Though Xu Huan was a Martial Master, the suddenness of the attack caught her off guard. Her face paled as she stumbled back in alarm.
Fortunately, Zhou Heng reacted swiftly.
"You dare strike first?!"
He gathered his qi and launched a full-force punch at the assailant.
But the youth showed no fear—only a flicker of mocking contempt in his eyes.
A seasoned fighter among the outer disciples, he had faced countless battles. Zhou Heng's strength was no match.
With a twist of his body, he effortlessly evaded the punch, and with a palm brimming with qi, struck Zhou Heng squarely in the chest.
Thud—
Zhou Heng was hurled backward, vomiting blood midair before crashing to the ground.
"Bastard!"
Outraged, the others leapt to Zhou Heng's defense.
But the rest of the outer sect thugs surged forward.
The students from True Martial Academy were overwhelmed in moments. Their inferior cultivation and complete lack of combat experience left them powerless.
They were students from a sheltered institution, ill-equipped to face battle-hardened veterans.
"Hey pretty girl, why don't you come with me?" one of the uglier outer disciples jeered at Zhu Ling'er.
Her face flushed red with fury.
"You damn dog, asking for death!"
Wei Yi charged in, his expression frosted with cold rage.
In a blink, his figure blurred—Heishui Movement Technique—his silhouette slicing through the air like a phantom.
He appeared before the lecherous disciple in an instant and delivered a slap with devastating precision.
Crack—
The man was flung back, several teeth trailing in the air. His mind reeled from the impact.
The entire courtyard fell silent.
All eyes turned to Wei Yi and Zhu Ling'er.
"You little bastard—!" another senior disciple growled, stepping forward.
Wei Yi turned and met his gaze.
His cold, piercing stare froze the man mid-sentence. He swallowed the insult whole.
"You alright?" Wei Yi asked, turning to Zhu Ling'er.
"I'm fine," she replied, shaking her head, visibly moved.
"Look out!"
Suddenly, she cried out in alarm.
Wei Yi didn't even glance back.
He vanished on the spot.
The two disciples who had tried to ambush him stood dumbfounded—before two iron-like fists smashed into their chests.
Bang!
Bang!
Two strikes.
Seven Kill Fist.
They, too, flew back like ragdolls.
Three of their number already defeated, the sneering youth's expression grew uglier by the second.
He opened his mouth to order a group assault—
But Wei Yi's figure flickered again and appeared right before him.
"You—you're courting death!"
Enraged, he struck without hesitation.
"You dare rebel? I'll teach you your place!"
But he had no idea—Wei Yi wasn't just any newcomer.
Before his palm could even reach its mark, Wei Yi's fist had already connected with his chest.
The speed stunned him.
The full force of a peak-tier Martial Master, combined with the full might of Seven Kill Fist, erupted from Wei Yi's punch.
Boom—
The youth was sent flying, slamming into the earth with bone-jarring force.
He lay groaning, his face pale, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Excellent!"
"Well done!"
The True Martial disciples clapped and cheered.
The outer sect bullies, stunned into silence, began to retreat. The arrogance on their faces had vanished completely.
They hadn't expected to provoke such a monster among the newcomers.
"Still want that silver?" Wei Yi asked with a calm smile.
"You…"
"You'll regret this! The Black Tiger Society won't let you off!"
The sneering youth gnashed his teeth, but with no power to retaliate, he could only choke on his fury.
Cursing under his breath, he gathered his men and fled in disgrace.
"Didn't expect this much trouble so soon," Wei Yi muttered, watching them flee. "We'll need to be careful from now on. Best not to go out alone."
But he noticed something odd—the others were all staring at him.
"What's with the looks?" he asked, puzzled.
"Wei Yi… we didn't know you were this strong," Pei Qinghe said, awestruck.
"Seriously," added Xu Huan bluntly. "You're just a second-year, right? I thought you got in like Ling'er—through connections. Turns out you're the real hidden ace."
"Shut up," Zhu Ling'er huffed, giving her a playful shove.
"Hehe~" Xu Huan giggled.
"We'll be counting on you from now on, Brother Wei," Zhou Heng added with a grin.
"Didn't Dean Zhu say it himself? We're all here to support one another," Wei Yi replied with a smile.
"Still, we should find someone to ask about this 'Black Tiger Society,'" he added, eyes narrowing slightly. "Something tells me this won't be so simple."