Claire Carter looked delighted, with a hint of playfulness.

　　“Of course, no matter what, I would never forget you, Little Claire...”

　　Henry Foster smiled and nodded at a middle-aged man who looked like a driver. The man immediately walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk...

　　William King glanced over, then withdrew his gaze without looking again.

　　The noisy sounds of footsteps coming and going, things being moved, and the greetings of servants and bodyguards drifted in from the courtyard outside, growing closer until they reached the living room. Among all these sounds, the most prominent was naturally Claire Carter's silvery laughter. At eighteen, a girl is at the peak of her youth and vitality.

　　William King's right hand unconsciously tapped lightly on the table as he pondered in his mind how to perfectly keep track of the progress and news of the Galactic Struggle.

　　The Galactic Struggle—only martial arts masters are qualified to participate. But at the master level, only one or two lucky ones can actually seize the Galactic Token; the main contenders are those martial arts grandmasters at the very top. Ordinary intelligence organizations probably have no idea what the Galactic Struggle even is.

　　“Xuanyuan Leng... a monstrous figure of the demonic path... his sect's power isn't weak. Maybe I can start with him... Anyway, I already refused his so-called Blood Dragon Hall's invitation, and the Blood Dragon Hall behind him won't let me off easily. As for the Green Province... the real headquarters of the Blood-Clad Society, infamous for the Thousand-Man Butcher Lie Wuqing, is right here in Linjiang City. I just don't know if they've moved in the past six years... It's late today, I'll make a trip tomorrow if I have time.”

　　“Bang bang bang.”

　　Just as William King was carefully considering how to establish an intelligence network, a series of rude, heavy knocks sounded from outside.

　　“William King, open the door! Why is it closed? Hurry up and open it.”

　　Amid the knocking, Grace Carter's dissatisfied shout could be faintly heard.

　　William King stepped forward and opened the door: “What is it?”

　　“Come here.”

　　Claire Carter spoke in a tone that was almost a command, turned, and walked toward the living room. As she walked, she grinned at Henry Foster, who was sitting in the living room, as well as a young man and the middle-aged driver-looking guest: “If you don't believe me, let him say it himself. When Miss Shen from the Martial Arts Association asked, that's exactly how he answered—fifth or sixth level martial artist, hehe...”

　　William King walked out of his room unhurriedly and followed Claire Carter to the living room. He recognized all three strangers there.

　　Henry Foster, his junior fellow apprentice Michael Foster, and the middle-aged expert David Brooks, who was both driver and bodyguard.

　　Sitting on the sofa with Grace Carter was a woman full of intelligence and grace—her best friend, the young expert from the Southern Fist Sect, Ethan Cook.

　　“Hello, everyone.”

　　William King politely greeted the guests in the living room, then glanced at Grace Carter: “You're back?”

　　“I'm back.”

　　Grace Carter replied.

　　A simple greeting, a plain conversation, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

　　Henry Foster watched the two greet each other with a smile, graceful as ever, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

　　“Someone from the Martial Arts Association came here to register your information?”

　　Grace Carter asked.

　　“Yes.”

　　“You're a martial artist?”

　　“Sort of, but I haven't used a sword in a long time.”

　　“I can tell.”

　　Grace Carter had naturally noticed the sword in William King's room. With her sharp eyes, she could tell at a glance that it was an ancient sword that hadn't been drawn in years. “There have been a lot of things happening in the ancient martial arts world lately, and I'll be busy too. Try not to go out, and don't get involved in any excitement.”

　　“I'm not the type who likes to join in the fun.”

　　“That's good.”

　　“Alright, if there's nothing else, I'll head in first.”

　　William King said.

　　“Hey, wait, wait.”

　　Seeing that William King was about to leave after just a few words, Claire Carter couldn't help but feel a bit dissatisfied. “Sis, Brother Foster, aren't you going to ask William King if what he said is true? And, he's actually a martial artist—aren't you even a little surprised or curious? I never heard about this before.”

　　“Hehe, with the revival of ancient martial arts these days and the country strongly supporting martial arts development, it's normal for everyone to pick up a move or two. Doesn't your school have martial arts classes? And they're even required courses, just like math, science, and chemistry.”

　　Henry Foster said with a gentle smile, his voice calm and pleasant.

　　“I know, I'm almost a first-level martial artist myself! But at the time, William King told Miss Shen Feiyun from the Martial Arts Association that he was a fifth or sixth level expert. William King, is that true?”

　　The last part was Claire Carter turning to ask William King, her tone carrying a hint of threat.

　　William King adjusted his black-rimmed glasses slightly and replied calmly, “Yes, I really am a sixth-level martial artist. There's nothing to hide about it—it's not like it's something shameful.”

　　“Haha, see, I wasn't wrong!”

　　Hearing William King finally admit it, Claire Carter couldn't help but jump up happily. “He admitted it! He admitted he's a sixth-level martial artist!”

　　“Claire.”