Istan City, the northernmost settlement on the Reno Continent and the closest town to Frostbound Dragon Valley, had been designated an SSS-tier military zone during this sensitive period following the collapsed negotiations with the Evil God.

After all, retaliation from an Evil God Dragon wasn’t something easily endured.

In just two days, over a dozen mercenary corps had arrived in Istan City. More high-tier groups would follow.

The Crimson Mercenary Corps, fresh from their "fierce battle" against the Iceflower Evil God Dragon, had already secured quarters inside the city lord’s palace—treated like returning heroes. Rumor had it their promotion to SSS-tier status was all but guaranteed.

Inside the gilded palace, clinking goblets never ceased. A grand welcome banquet was underway, honoring none other than our "valiant demon-slayers," the Crimson Mercenary Corps.

"Guildmaster Ace, though the battle was lost, your honor remains untarnished! This old man toasts the bravery of you all!"

"City Lord Momi flatters us. Ace is undeserving."

"Ace Guildmaster, we’re all mercenaries here. We’d be honored if you’d describe that earth-shattering battle for us!"

The speaker was a violet-haired man in armor, a gun-and-rose emblem stitched on his shoulder. A reckless grin never left his face.

—The Gunrose Mercenary Corps. Another S-tier group, once more renowned than Crimson, and the closest contender for SSS-tier status. *Until now...*

"Hah, Brother Dilu, how could mere words capture such devastation?"

*Brother Dilu?* The violet-haired beauty Dilu sneered inwardly. *Wasn’t it ‘Big Brother Dilu’ just yesterday?*

"Oh? Hearing Ace’s words, we’re all deeply curious," City Lord Momi interjected smoothly. "The might of the Iceflower Evil God Dragon is beyond imagination. Pray, enlighten us."

With his reputation sufficiently burnished, Guildmaster Ace launched into an epic, tear-jerking retelling...

Though many elite mercenary groups attended, only three held real influence. True powerhouses disdained such political games. In truth, only three types of corps came here:

First—desperate groups gambling on war for a breakthrough.

Second—those controlled by political factions.

Third—those genuinely fearing the Evil God Dragon’s wrath upon Istan City.

*Though whether our Evil God Dragon even has such intentions... well, at least not currently!*

*After all, the mighty Iceflower Evil God Dragon couldn’t even enter the city gates! A first in history, surely!*

"Damn it! How many times must I say it? I’m not suspicious! How many times must I repeat myself?!"

Disguised in women’s clothing, Sima Liangjie—the great Iceflower Evil God Dragon himself—was being leered at by two gate guards who refused him entry. Fan Qiandai, his shadow, remained unseen by ordinary eyes.

"Apologies, miss," one guard oozed, eyes lingering on Liangjie’s faintly defined chest. "The city’s under lockdown. No pass or guild insignia means no entry. Even for beauties like you."

*That’s my pectoral muscle!* Liangjie fumed silently. *Sorry it’s not bigger!*

With curfew approaching, Liangjie swallowed his pride. "I’m ‘Ganimar’ of the Crimson Mercenary Corps! I barely escaped Frostbound Dragon Valley after that legendary battle! Lost my insignia in the chaos!"

"Sorry, miss," the guard chuckled. "A woman calling herself ‘this大爷’? Highly suspicious. Crimson Corps moved into the palace days ago. You’re clearly here to cling to strong legs. Why not cling to mine instead? Haha!"

Liangjie’s patience snapped.

*Heh...* A sunbeam-bright smile spread across his face.

The two guards’ eyes glazed over, bodies trembling—not from cold, but surging hormones.

"P-poor boys," a stuttering whisper drifted from the shadows. "May His Highness’s spirit... p-protect you. Ah! His Highness is merely... temporarily unfrozen! Not ‘in spirit’! Pfft—!"

"T-two big brothers are right~" Liangjie cooed, batting his lashes. "This widdle girlie isn’t a woman yet! Could you... help me become one?"

Two disciplined young guards instantly transformed into drooling perverts chanting, *"Screw the job!"*

*Pfft—*

A muffled snort came from the darkness. *Stop mimicking me!* A blushing shadow facepalmed.

Liangjie scanned the empty street—curfew loomed, and he was likely the last traveler.

*Time for the main act.*

Dry tinder awaited a spark.

Biting his lip nervously, Liangjie lifted his skirt hem with slender fingers, inching toward the roadside bushes. Then—*whoops!*—he "tripped" over a soft blade of grass, tumbling into the foliage with a short, sharp gasp.

What vanished into the greenery was more than enough to shatter restraint.

Eyes blazing, the guards lunged into the bushes like moths to flame.

*Thud! Crash!*

Five seconds later, Liangjie emerged, silver hair flowing. Keys spun lazily on his finger; a new spatial ring gleamed on his left hand.

*Sleep tight for a fortnight, idiots.*

"Broke bastards. Twenty gold coins total!" He tossed the keys into the dark. "Only kept this E-tier ring out of pity. Here!"

"*Ah~* Glorious Istan City! I’m here!" Liangjie cackled, striding through the gates just as they slammed shut behind him—

***SLAM!***

—like a death sentence.

"*Pants... pants... pants...*" Liangjie muttered, duck-footed swagger carrying him past ancient stone streets. In the game world, Istan was already a monument. After the Dark Lord and Evil God’s war, players and NPCs had sacrificed everything here to slay Lucifer at the city’s north gate, claiming his legendary loot. But Lucifer’s final strike reduced Istan to ashes.

*A monument? Or just bad luck?*

*Either way—standing here again... magnificent.*

"Mama, look! That weirdo’s not wearing pants! Just a scroll tied on! And he’s grinning!"

"Hush, Yaya! He might be sick. Walk faster."

"Mama’s just jealous ’cause she’s uglier! Look, Papa’s drooling..."

"...’’

Ignoring the whispers, Liangjie scanned for a clothing shop—until a violet-haired armored figure approached, a gun-and-rose emblem blazing on his chest.

*Dilu.*

Coincidence. Dilu had fled the palace banquet, unable to stomach Ace’s bragging. A "bathroom emergency" provided the perfect escape.

"Mama! It’s Guildmaster Dilu! So handsome!"

"Hush, Yaya! You’re too young—*Hey! Dilu Guildmaster! Over here!*"

"Wife, you—’’

"*Dilu Guildmasteeer~!*"

Dilu waved graciously at the adoring crowd.

*Show-off,* Liangjie thought. *Last life, I hated fakes like him. Be real. Do what you want. No pandering.*

"*Tch.*" Liangjie turned his head away.

As their shoulders nearly brushed, Liangjie muttered an immortal line:

"Don’t show off. Lightning’ll strike you down."

Dilu paused, glancing back—just in time to glimpse Liangjie’s profile.

*Such beauty...*

His long-dormant heart fluttered.

"Fair lady—"

Liangjie ignored him. Until rose petals suddenly swirled around him.

*Disgusting.*

"My apologies for the intrusion," Dilu bowed, rose-petal spear glinting. "I am Dilu. Might I ask the meaning of your words?"

*More disgusting.*

"*Hah?*" Liangjie scowled. *What does this pretty boy want?*

"My rudeness," Dilu offered a knight’s bow, igniting jealous gasps from onlookers. "I merely seek the meaning of ‘Don’t show off, or lightning’ll strike you down.’ This humble man begs your wisdom."

Liangjie’s eye twitched. *Explain that?!* Only Dilu’s polite tone stopped a flying kick.

"I’ve places to be. Scrape mud elsewhere." He sidestepped—

Dilu blocked his path again, rose petals drifting down.

"Forgive my insistence. Enlighten me."

*Heh...* That sunshine smile returned.

A porcelain hand landed on Dilu’s shoulder. With a casual heave, Liangjie hurled him into the crowd of shrieking girls.

Dilu lay stunned, his Battle Qi frozen solid seconds ago. *Not even the Warrior Guild’s president could suppress my Qi like that!*

*Who is she?!*

*She’ll be mine. No woman escapes me.*

"Dilu-sama! Are you hurt?!"

"That brute! Don’t lower yourself to her level!"

"You’re too kind, Dilu-sama..."

"*Sigh.*" Liangjie rubbed his temples. "Need normal clothes. *Now.*"

He followed the orange glow in the sky, striding toward his next destination.