Chapter 8 The Grand Arrival of the Sucker 2

Lord Vance stared at Logan, his face changing colors like a bruised plum. The sapphire rings on his fingers shook so violently they rattled against each other. He looked at the discarded blankets, then at the completely calm, majestic sixteen-year-old boy, and finally down at the bucket of cranberry juice.

He hadn't just been insulted. He had been completely, systematically scammed by a teenager in an octagonal-wheeled wheelchair.

"You... you audacious little rat!" Vance screamed, his Peak Qi Foundation aura violently erupting like a ruptured steam pipe. The sheer pressure blasted the mud away from his expensive leather boots in a wide circle. "You dared to mock the Imperial Court?! Guards! Cut this peasant into mincemeat! Burn this entire shack to ashes!"

"Kill!"

The twenty elite imperial guards reacted instantly. These were not low-level street thugs; they were military executioners at the Peak Silver-Bone Realm. Moving in flawless battlefield formation, they raised their heavy iron spears and lunged forward as a wall of black steel. Their combined Qi created a suffocating wind that made the surrounding townspeople cover their eyes in terror.

Logan stood perfectly still, his hands casually tucked behind his back. He didn't even bother to take a fighting stance.

"Twenty Peak Silver-Bone guards," Logan murmured, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips. "In my past life, a squad of this caliber wouldn't even be qualified to polish the stirrups of my vanguard cavalry. Let me show you how a true commander handles a frontline charge."

When the tip of the foremost iron spear was precisely three inches from his throat, Logan simply tapped his right heel against the dirt.

BOOM!

An invisible, explosive wave of golden primordial qi erupted from his body like an expanding shockwave. The atmospheric pressure inside the narrow street instantly multiplied by tenfold.

The twenty elite guards froze mid-air. The golden wave hit them like a head-on collision with a mountain.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The iron shafts of their spears instantly shattered into splinters. The black steel breastplates stamped with the Imperial Crest caved inward as Logan's Qi Foundation energy completely bypassed their external defenses. All twenty armored soldiers were violently lifted off their feet, flying backward through the air like a flock of startled crows hit by a gale.

They crashed into the surrounding tiled roofs, smashed through the wooden storefronts, and tumbled into the muddy gutters twenty yards away. Within a single second, the entire elite vanguard lay groaning in the dirt, their bones intact but their pride utterly pulverized.

The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the sound of a single broken spearhead spinning in the mud before coming to a stop at Lord Vance's feet.

Vance’s Peak Qi Foundation aura instantly choked out. His eyes widened to the size of teacups, and his jaw hung so loose it looked unhinged. He looked at his elite guards, then back at Logan, finally sensing the true, terrifying density of the boy's unsuppressed energy.

"Early... Early Qi Foundation Realm?!" Vance stammered, his aristocratic voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. "Impossible! You're sixteen! How can a backwater peasant possess primordial Qi of this purity?!"

"Peasant?" Logan chuckled, taking a slow, predatory step forward. The golden mist of his Qi swirled around his boots, making him look like an ancient war deity walking through filth. "Lord Vance, your Emperor sits on a throne built from the blood my ancestors shed. You are the peasants. I am simply reclaiming my rent."

Beside the golden carriage, Mayor Silas didn't even wait to see the end of the conversation. He turned around on all fours and tried to desperately claw his way into a nearby drainage ditch to hide.

Logan didn't even look at him. He kept his eyes locked on Vance, who was now trembling so hard his white fox fur coat was shedding loose hairs into the mud.

"Now," Logan said, casually resting his boot on top of the heavy iron chest containing the five thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones. "Are you going to give me the keys to your golden carriage, Inspector? Or do I have to use your mustache to wipe the mud off my shoes?"

Vance’s face went entirely blank. He looked at Logan, then at his twenty elite guards groaning in the mud, and finally at his own gold-plated carriage. His hands shook so violently that he accidentally dropped his rosewater-soaked handkerchief right into a fresh puddle of horse manure.

"You... you can't do this!" Vance stammered, frantically stepping backward until his spine hit the solid wood of his golden carriage. "I am an Imperial Inspector! If you touch me, the Emperor will send three legion armies to turn Blackstone Town into a graveyard!"

"Let him send four," Logan said, his voice entirely flat.

With a movement so fast it left a golden afterimage in the air, Logan closed the distance. His right hand shot forward like a striking viper, grabbing Vance by the front of his luxurious lavender silk robes.

Rip!

The expensive fabric tore cleanly as Logan lifted the grown man entirely off the ground with a single arm. Vance kicked his legs wildly in the air, his white fox fur coat flying off his shoulders and landing face-first in the muck.

"Julian," Logan called out without looking back. "How long has it been since we had proper transport?"

Julian walked out of the shack, completely abandoning his frail father act. He crossed his arms, looking at the pure-white Spirit Steeds and the glittering gold-plated frame of the carriage. "About a century, give or take. The octagonal wheels on that wooden wheelchair were really starting to hurt my lower back."

"Good," Logan nodded. He turned his gaze back to the terrified Inspector dangling from his grip. "Lord Vance, I am an accountant at heart. Since you broke my front door for the third time this week—"

"I didn't break your door! My scouts did!" Vance shrieked, tears of pure panic mixing with the remnants of his aristocratic pride.

"Same payroll, same penalty," Logan replied smoothly. "The carriage, the four Spirit Steeds, and that chest of five thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones are now officially seized as property damage compensation. As for you... you are going to be our new driver."

"Driver?!" Vance’s eyes looked ready to explode. "I am a high-ranking official of the Capital! I have never held a leather rein in my entire life!"

"Then you have exactly three seconds to learn," Logan said.

With a casual toss, Logan threw the Imperial Inspector through the air. Vance let out a spectacular, high-pitched scream before crashing face-first onto the hard wooden driver's seat of his own carriage.

Thud!

"Ow! My nose!" Vance wailed, clutching his face as a thin stream of blood ruined his perfectly groomed mustache.

Logan turned his attention to the bottom of the carriage. He reached down and grabbed Mayor Silas by his bandages, dragging the corrupt official out from under the axle like a dusty rug. Silas was shaking so hard his teeth were rattling like dice in a cup.

"Young... Young Master Vanguard!" Silas cried, his voice muffled by the mud-soaked cloth on his face. "I am just a local mayor! I have no gold left! Your family already took everything from the Iron Tiger Sect!"

"Relax, Silas, I don't want your gold," Logan smiled, a terrifying expression that made the Mayor's stomach completely drop. Logan shoved a thick leather whip into Silas’s trembling hands. "You are the co-pilot. If Lord Vance drives too slowly, you whip him. If you don't whip him, I will use your bandages to tie both of you to the back wheels."

Silas looked at the whip, then at Lord Vance, and finally at Logan. Without a single second of hesitation, the Mayor scrambled up onto the driver's seat, sat right next to the Imperial Inspector, and raised the whip with absolute enthusiasm. "My Lord Vance... for the sake of my survival, please start driving!"

Logan casually lifted the heavy iron chest of five thousand spirit stones with one hand, tossing it inside the luxurious carriage cabin like a bag of laundry. He then climbed inside, sitting comfortably on the plush velvet cushions.

Julian climbed in right after him, casually closing the silk curtains to block out the view of the muddy border town.

"Where to, Young Master?" Silas shouted frantically from the driver's seat, his whip already cracking in the air.

Logan leaned his head back against the velvet cushion, closing his eyes as his golden primordial qi began to greedily pulse, ready to digest the massive treasure chest at his feet.

"The local Mayor’s mansion," Logan’s voice echoed clearly through the curtain. "I am tired of living in a shack. It's time to upgrade our real estate."

Crack!

"Move, you royal idiot! Move!" Silas screamed, slamming the whip down near Vance’s leather boots.

Don't hit me! I'm driving! I'm driving!" Vance yelled back, frantically pulling the leather reins as the four magnificent white Spirit Steeds bolted forward, dragging the glittering golden carriage down the street while the entire population of Blackstone Town stood in absolute, paralyzed shock.