Zhu Jiu wasn't the least bit surprised that the cold, sharp-eyed man knew he had been standing outside the door.
Considering the man's evident strength and Zhu Jiu's lack of effort to conceal his presence, it would've been shocking if he hadn't noticed.
If anything, it was proof of the man's capabilities.
Without hesitation, Zhu Jiu stepped into the classroom, clasping his hands politely. "I am Zhu Jiu."
The cold-faced man nodded faintly, introducing himself: "Zhao Feng."
As he spoke, he subtly revealed a sword-shaped tattoo on his wrist.
This tattoo was the exclusive mark of the Zhao Clan, a prestigious martial arts family. It was not only a symbol of their power but a warning: outsiders who dared to imitate it would face deadly consequences. Any member of a martial arts clan would immediately recognize this mark.
Zhao Feng was confident that Zhu Jiu had already identified his origins.
Martial clans like the Zhao family, though low-profile, were far from extinct. Across provinces, these ancient families preserved and cultivated their formidable legacies.
They weren't just powerful in combat but also titans in commerce, politics, and even entertainment.
Those without the aptitude for martial arts were dispatched to amass influence in other fields, using the family name as a stepping stone to prominence.
But to the average person, these clans were little more than whispers of legend, existing far beyond the reach of ordinary society.
Thus, Zhao Feng was certain that Zhu Jiu, a descendant of the Zhu family and a practitioner of the Bagua Blade, must understand the significance of his tattoo.
Yet to Zhao Feng's astonishment, Zhu Jiu glanced at the mark without so much as a flicker of recognition.
It was as if the tattoo held no meaning to him.
"What's going on?" Zhao Feng's mind raced.
"His footwork is precise, exuding the distinct traits of the Bagua step, and he wields a pair of blades unmistakably in the Bagua style.
"In the martial world, Bagua Blade is most associated with the Zhang family of Kaifeng and the Zhu family of Jiangnan.
"This man, Zhu Jiu, must belong to the Zhu family, and his level of mastery shows he's clearly a core member.
"So why didn't he react to my tattoo?"
For the Zhao family, superior to the Zhu family in strength and influence, it was customary for Zhu family descendants to pay respects upon encountering a Zhao family member.
And yet, Zhu Jiu stood unmoved.
"Does he have some hidden backing? Or is he just an arrogant fool?"
Despite his displeasure, Zhao Feng quickly composed himself. Recruiting Zhu Jiu into his faction was his top priority, and he wasn't about to let this potential ally slip away.
"Brother Zhu," Zhao Feng said with an air of friendliness, "your skills are impressive. Have you considered joining our Demon-Slaying Society?"
Zhu Jiu raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "And what are the benefits of joining?"
"Benefits?" Zhao Feng laughed, though his opinion of Zhu Jiu dropped another notch.
To Zhao Feng, someone who asked about benefits first lacked the mindset for greatness.
Still, he maintained his polite demeanor. "The benefits depend on your strength. The higher your rank, the greater your rewards."
"Rank?" Zhu Jiu tilted his head. "How is rank determined?"
Zhao Feng froze for a moment, taken aback.
This guy doesn't even know about ranking?
"Is he playing dumb? Or is he… an outcast from the Zhu family?"
Zhao Feng's patience thinned. He replied with a trace of irritation, "Ranking corresponds to evolver levels. A Level-One evolver is ranked Level One, Level Two for Level-Two evolvers, and so on.
"The higher your rank, the greater your rewards. But dark energy has only recently awakened, so I'd guess you're no more than a Level-One evolver—likely newly advanced at that.
"With your current strength, joining a society like ours is your best option. Waiting too long might leave you without any prospects."
Zhao Feng's condescending tone rankled the listeners, especially Wang Hua, the teacher.
He had seen Zhao Feng's combat prowess earlier and doubted Zhu Jiu could defeat him, but Zhao Feng's dismissive attitude made him instinctively step forward, prepared to intervene if necessary.
To his surprise, Zhu Jiu simply smiled. "I appreciate the offer, Brother Zhao, but I'm not one for restraints. Joining a society isn't my style."
"However," Zhu Jiu added, his tone casual, "I did hear you mention a cure for infection. Care to share some details?"
"Of course not," Zhao Feng replied sharply, a glimmer of disdain flashing in his eyes. "The cure is exclusive knowledge within the Demon-Slaying Society, accessible only to mid-level members and above. Even if you joined, it would take time to reach that level—let alone now, as an outsider."
Zhao Feng turned away, as though Zhu Jiu no longer merited his attention. Addressing the others, he said, "I see there are seven evolvers among you. If you join my faction within the society, I'll provide you with a breathing technique, a strength-enhancing pill, and a weapon.
"Initially, they'll be standard weapons, but with exceptional performance, you may earn dark-energy weapons.
"Let me assure you, such resources—breathing techniques, dark-energy-infused pills—are invaluable, especially during these early stages of the apocalypse. Opportunities like this won't come again."
He had anticipated enthusiasm, even immediate pledges of loyalty.
Instead, his pitch was met with silence.
No one stepped forward.
"What?!" Zhao Feng was stunned.
How could they not be tempted by breathing techniques and pills?
Unbeknownst to him, Zhu Jiu had already distributed five evolution serums earlier, elevating five ordinary individuals into evolvers. Compared to that, Zhao Feng's offer seemed trivial.
Anger flared in Zhao Feng's chest. "Ungrateful fools! Do you have any idea how generous my terms are? And yet you still think you can demand more?"
"What a waste of my time!" Zhao Feng turned to leave, his frustration palpable.
But before he could take a step, Zhu Jiu blocked his path, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Brother Zhao, trying to poach my people and insulting my brothers right in front of me—isn't that a bit rude?"
"I'm an easygoing man. Hand over some breathing techniques, pills, and your cure for infection, and we'll call it even."
"Otherwise…" Zhu Jiu's smile faded as his hands moved to the hilts of his blades.
"You're staying right here."
As he spoke, Zhu Jiu's twin blades gleamed menacingly, their points directed at Zhao Feng.