High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

The other mercenary leaders also chimed in.

"That’s right. We paid the harbor fee."

"We all risk our lives for a living. Who’s to say who’s better than the next guy?"

Just then, the main doors were pushed open.

The once-raucous warehouse fell silent for a second, but hushed whispers quickly broke out again.

Han Feng, dressed in a black combat suit, walked in alone without any guards.

The once-raucous meeting room quieted for a moment, but hushed whispers quickly broke out again.

Han Feng walked straight to the head of the table and sat down. Wasting no time, he held up three fingers.

"Since everyone is here, I’ll announce three rules."

"First, everyone entering the port, regardless of identity or background, must register under their real name and submit to an Energy fluctuation screening. Anyone who conceals their presence will be expelled."

"Second, fighting is strictly forbidden within the port district.

Settle your grudges out on the open sea. I don’t care if you live or die.

Anyone who throws a punch in the port—I don’t care who started it—will be executed. Both of them."

"Third, a curfew is in effect after ten o’clock at night. Anyone other than the patrol teams caught wandering the streets will be shot on sight."

The moment he finished speaking, the meeting room fell deathly silent.

Then, a harsh, derisive laugh shattered the silence.

"Heh, what a show of authority."

The speaker was a brawny, bald man with a brutish face and a Beast Tooth Necklace around his neck.

He was the leader of the Mad Shark Mercenary Corps and a veteran Enlightenment Realm Peak Martial Artist, notorious in this region.

The bald man toyed with a dagger, eyeing Han Feng askance.

"Special Envoy Han, is it? It’s true you saved us, but it’s not like East Sea City owns Dragon’s Fang Port.

I can live with the registration, but a curfew?

I’ve got to go out and hunt Sea Beasts at night to make a living. What right do you have to stop me?"

A few others around him chimed in with jeers.

"Exactly. We’re all here to make money, not to be locked up like prisoners."

"Kid, don’t think a fancy aircraft makes you invincible. You don’t understand how things work on the ground."

Liu Zhen, standing behind Han Feng, felt cold sweat trickle down his temples. The bald man had ties to Jiangbei City and was notoriously difficult to handle.

Han Feng leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced, and quietly watched the bald man’s performance.

When the bald man had just about finished, Han Feng slowly spoke. "Are you done?"

The bald man slammed his dagger into the table and grinned fiercely. "I’m done. So what? You wanna go a few rounds?"

Han Feng didn’t say a word.

He simply lifted his gaze to meet the bald man’s.

The instant their eyes met.

BOOM!

An invisible and utterly terrifying pressure descended upon the meeting room without warning.

It wasn’t the oppressive force of True Qi, but a pure, crushing assault of Spiritual Power!

In that instant, his Spiritual Power—clocking in at 3,100 Hz—materialized into a tangible sledgehammer that smashed down precisely on the bald man’s shoulders.

CRACK!

The sickening sound of shattering bone echoed through the room.

Before the bald man could even scream, his knees buckled. He crashed heavily to the ground, his kneecaps shattering instantly and smashing two deep craters into the floor.

PTHOO!

A moment later, he spat out a mouthful of blood. His entire body was ground into the floor as if by an invisible giant hand, his cheek pressed flat, his features contorted, and his eyes bulging with absolute terror.

He wanted to beg for mercy, but the pressure choked his vocal cords, allowing him to make only ragged, wheezing gasps.

The meeting room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The Martial Artists who had been jeering just moments ago were now pale and rigid, scarcely daring to breathe.

To their horror, they realized the pressure was controlled with Microscopic precision, targeting only the bald man. The person sitting beside him didn’t even feel a stir in the air, not a single thread of his clothing moving.

’What kind of technique is this?’

’What level of Spiritual Power is this?’

’Even a Tier Four Divine Containment Realm Grandmaster couldn’t possibly do this, could they?’

Han Feng stood up and strolled unhurriedly over to the bald man, looking down at the man’s face, now purple and swollen from the pressure.

"I wasn’t negotiating with you."

Han Feng’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it drilled into everyone’s ears with a bone-chilling cold.

"I was informing you."

With that, he retracted his gaze, and the pressure vanished instantly.

The bald man lay slumped on the ground like a pile of soft mud, gasping for breath. A large wet patch had spread across his crotch; the attack had scared the piss right out of him.

Without giving him a second glance, Han Feng turned and walked toward the door.

"I have laid down the rules. Who agrees? Who objects?"

Behind him, there was only dead silence.

No one dared to object.

No one even dared to meet the gaze of his retreating figure.

Reaching the doorway, Han Feng paused and turned his head to the still-dazed Liu Zhen. "That man dirtied the floor. Make him clean it up himself, then throw him out."

"Ye—yes!" Liu Zhen was so excited his voice cracked.

’Now *that’s* a powerful backer!’

’That’s a true badass!’

...

「Twenty minutes later, in top-secret warehouse number three, deep beneath Dragon’s Fang Port.」

The heavy, blast-proof door slid shut, completely sealing off the noise from the outside world.

Gazing at the mountain of supply crates before him, Han Feng’s normally stern face finally broke into a genuine smile.

’This is the taste of power.’

’Before, if I wanted to get my hands on these things, I would’ve had to risk my life in the Black Market, haggle with crooked merchants, and even resort to murder and robbery.’

’But now, all it takes is a single sentence, a single list, and the entire war machine of East Sea City kicks into high gear to deliver the best resources right to my doorstep.’

’Tsk, leveling up on the public dime, getting paid to cultivate... I wouldn’t trade this life even to be an Immortal!’

Han Feng rubbed his hands together and walked up to a silver-white metal case, pressing his thumb to the fingerprint scanner.