“Bang”—a deafening yet muffled gunshot abruptly cut off what William Carter was about to say. The shot was loud and sudden; Emily Foster's expression changed involuntarily, a flash of worry passing through her eyes. “Ah…” There were still many elderly people exercising on the mountaintop, and at the sound of the gunshot, their faces changed dramatically and they cried out in alarm. Two with weak hearts were even so frightened by the sudden blast that they fainted.

A man in a black trench coat and large black sunglasses was standing there, holding up a massive silver handgun. William Carter could even smell a faint scent of gunpowder in the air. “Anyone not involved, get lost. I only want her…” As he spoke, the man pointed the silver handgun at Emily Foster.

William Carter thought the man looked odd—wearing a conspicuous black trench coat in the middle of summer, even if it was morning. The gun in his hand looked exactly like the Desert Eagle he often used in CS. In the Empire, after all, gun control was the strictest in the world. This was the first time in William Carter’s life he had seen a real gun. From William Carter’s experience, criminals in the Empire couldn’t possibly afford such a luxurious weapon.

Although Emily Foster’s face was pale, there was nothing unusual in her expression; she simply remained silent. Her bright eyes were full of worry, but she still managed to stay relatively calm. This composure, so close at hand, surprised William Carter.

The elderly people on the mountaintop, hearing it had nothing to do with them, quickly helped up the two who had fainted and hurried down the mountain as fast as they could. William Carter hesitated for a moment, then said to Emily Foster, “Sorry, I can’t help you. I’ll leave first.”

Chapter 2: Heart Connection

Emily Foster had harbored a faint hope in this mysterious-looking boy, but William Carter’s words shattered her fantasy. Indeed, when facing the dark muzzle of a gun, courage always fades quickly.

Although William Carter still appeared calm, it ultimately changed nothing. At this moment, Emily Foster didn’t know what to say either; she just nodded lightly, her expression dim.

William Carter sighed helplessly. He wanted to help, but was powerless to do so. This wasn’t a movie—no one could be riddled with bullets and still leap around. Even though he knew little about guns, William Carter could tell that this Desert Eagle was nothing like a standard police revolver; it was long and heavy. Yet the man held it casually, his wrist steady as a rock, his demeanor calm and composed, even with a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Behind the large black sunglasses, it was hard to see his eyes, but judging by his bearing, this man was clearly a seasoned pro.

William Carter was always calm to the point of coldness. In that brief encounter, relying on the crude knowledge he’d picked up from novels and movies, he judged that the man before him was extremely dangerous. In fact, just the way he fired a gun in front of everyone and acted as if nothing had happened showed he was no ordinary criminal. William Carter didn’t dare imagine what might happen to Emily Foster; it only made him feel more hopeless. But to force himself to step forward and do something he couldn’t possibly do—that was out of the question.

Carefully skirting around the man in black, William Carter had no intention of being mistaken for a threat by someone wielding a Desert Eagle. “Wait.” The man in black suddenly called out to William Carter. Seeing the dark muzzle of the silver handgun pointed at him, William Carter tensed up, a chill shooting straight to his forehead, and he even felt an uncontrollable urge to pee.

Seeing William Carter’s stiff expression, the man smiled. “You’re nervous?” Though he was smiling, it was more like a wild beast baring its fangs, giving off a terrifying, menacing vibe. William Carter tensed up again, wanting to say something, but his throat felt tight and dry. He could only nod cautiously.

“Why don’t you try to take me down, like a hero in the movies?” The man seemed to find William Carter amusing and asked mockingly. William Carter swallowed. “I’m scared.” “Hahaha…” William Carter’s answer delighted the man in black, who burst into exaggerated laughter, his gun hand even shaking with the force of it.

Bathed in the golden light of the rising sun, the man’s skin took on a faint golden hue, with a strange metallic sheen. His laughter was as loud as a great bell, echoing across the empty mountaintop, resounding and powerful.

Though only a little more than three meters separated him from the man in black, William Carter had no intention of making a move. He stood quietly, hands at his sides, eyes lowered, his expression calm—like a dutiful subordinate awaiting orders from his superior.

After laughing for a while, the man in black saw that William Carter remained calm and unmoved, and couldn’t help but feel surprised: “This laugh was intentional, and even though I only used a fraction of my unique technique, ordinary people—no matter how strong-willed—would feel their spirits waver and their energy drain under its influence. Yet this boy, though muscular and with steady breathing, clearly shows no signs of special training. Could he really be a once-in-a-million prodigy, as the legends say…”

The man in black’s thoughts stirred. He said to William Carter, “Kid, I see you have remarkable potential. You’re a legendary martial arts prodigy. I want to make something of you. Are you willing to take me as your master, learn peerless martial arts, and take on the great responsibility of maintaining world peace?”