High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

Chapter 280: Chapter 225: An Enlightenment Realm Expert Comes Seeking a Weapon, Second Layer Meridian Passage Perfection

As soon as he entered the living room, he saw the butler, Old Liu, standing before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a complex look on his face as he gazed outside.

"Mr. Han, you’re out of seclusion."

Hearing the movement, Old Liu turned and bowed slightly. His attitude was as respectful as ever, but his eyes held a new, barely perceptible trace of awe.

As a Meridian Passage Fifth Layer veteran, he could clearly sense that with every emergence from seclusion, his young employer’s aura underwent an earth-shattering transformation.

Such a rate of growth was simply terrifying.

"What is it, Old Liu? What are you so engrossed in?" Han Feng asked casually as he walked to the window.

"It’s the people from the Sun Family and Star Sea Technology."

Old Liu pointed to the sky outside. "The Council’s exile order has taken effect. Today is the day of their exodus."

Han Feng followed the direction of Old Liu’s finger.

It was dusk.

The setting sun, red as blood, stained all of East Sea City a ghastly shade of orange.

Old Liu pressed a button on the remote, and the living room’s giant holographic projector instantly lit up, displaying an official live news broadcast.

On the main thoroughfares leading from the Inner City to the North Gate, a massive convoy, so long it stretched beyond the horizon, was moving slowly.

Massive heavy-duty trucks, anti-gravity hover transports, and countless personal vehicles formed a long, gray-black serpent, winding its way north.

Above the convoy, a dozen or so "Falcon" gunships bearing the emblem of the East Sea Garrison Army circled at low altitude. Their dark muzzles were perpetually aimed at the procession below, like prison guards escorting convicts.

Onscreen, the once-arrogant members of the Sun Family now sat dejectedly in the back of open-bed trucks.

Their expensive silk garments were rumpled and creased, their faces etched with panic and bewilderment.

The spoiled heirs who once terrorized the Inner City were now like lambs to the slaughter, cowering and trembling in their parents’ arms.

The sides of the streets were packed with onlookers.

There were no farewells, no flowers.

Only silent stares, punctuated by the occasional cheer or curse.

"The Sun Family is finished."

Old Liu sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice.

"A hundred-year foundation, gone just like that.

I heard that even their family’s Spirit Hounds were forcibly taken away this time. The Council really has no intention of ever letting them return."

Han Feng watched the faces on the screen—some filled with despair, others with venomous hatred—his own expression serene.

He spotted a few familiar figures in the crowd.

They were the lackeys who had been trailing Young Master Sun back in the Secret Realm.

Now, several Garrison Army soldiers were herding them onto a troop transport like cattle.

The camera cut to the very front of the convoy.

Inside a black stretch limousine, Sun Changkong glared through the window, his eyes fixed on the receding silhouette of East Sea City.

His gaze held no remorse, only overwhelming hatred and indignation.

It was enough to send a chill down one’s spine, even through the screen.

"There’s nothing to pity. They brought this on themselves," Han Feng said coolly, gently swirling the glass of water in his hand as he watched Sun Changkong’s distorted face on the screen.

"The way they are now... who knows if they’ll even be human in ten years?"

Old Liu froze for a second, not quite understanding what Han Feng meant.

Han Feng didn’t explain.

He knew full well that the Council wasn’t exiling these people to Suspended Mountain merely as punishment.

It was an enormous gamble.

They were using a pack of madmen and zealots to confront the impending high-dimensional invasion.

If the people from the Sun Family and Star Sea Technology actually managed to survive in that desperate environment and adapt to its rules...

...then the ones who returned in ten years wouldn’t be human. They’d be a pack of true devils.

"However..."

Han Feng drained the water in his glass, turned, and headed upstairs, his back as straight as a sword.

"By then... who’s to say if I’ll still be human, either."

His voice was quiet, dissipating into the empty villa.

"Old Liu, prepare dinner."

"After dinner, I’m heading to the Celestial Craft Maintenance Department. I’ve got a big job to do."

"Yes, Mr. Han."