High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

The gunsmith's shop in the underground Black Market—the one that used to be covered in oil stains and reeked of cheap tobacco—was now completely transformed.

The smoke-scorched, blackened sign above the entrance was gone.

In its place hung a red sandalwood plaque, bare of any words, marked only by a single, simple sword slash.

The shop's interior was brand new, its walls painted a stark white.

The shelves, once laden with obsolete firearms, had been cleared away. All that remained was a large tea table made of Huanghuali wood, which looked priceless at a single glance.

A Zisha clay tea set sat in the center, steam gently curling from it.

Long Xiao sat in the host's seat. His tactical vest was gone, replaced by a well-tailored Tang suit with a subtle dark pattern. His hair was combed immaculately, and he expertly rolled two jade walnuts in his hands.

Seated across from him was a lone Martial Artist at the Enlightenment Realm Late Stage, nicknamed "Iron Hand."

Just half a month ago, this was the kind of man Long Xiao would have had to address as "sir" with a fawning smile.

But now, Iron Hand only dared to perch on the edge of his seat. He accepted the teacup from Long Xiao with both hands, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Manager Long, about the matter of my Arm Guard… could I trouble you to put in a good word for me with the Divine Artisan?

I have the deposit ready. Two fifty-year-old stalks of Dragon Blood Ginseng and a Tier Three Peak Wind Wolf Demon Pill."

Long Xiao leisurely blew the foam from his tea, his eyelids lifting slightly. His tone was flat as he said,

"Old Huang, it's not that I don't want to help you.

You know the Master's rules. It depends on his mood, on fate.

That Dragon Blood Ginseng is good, but it's not quite what the Master is looking for. He wants nurturing-type Spiritual Artifacts.

However…"

He paused deliberately, watching as Iron Hand's hopes soared, before continuing in a leisurely tone,

"But since we go way back, I'll present them to him.

Whether the Master accepts them or not… well, that will be up to your own good fortune."

"Oh! Thank you so much! Just hearing you say that, Manager Long, puts my mind at ease!"

Iron Hand's face filled with gratitude, and he bowed repeatedly with his hands clasped.

Long Xiao took a sip of tea, a sense of profound comfort washing over him.

Over the past half-month, he had truly come to understand the meaning of the saying, "when one man attains the Dao, his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven."

Ever since he'd latched onto Han Feng's "golden thigh," his status in the Black Market had skyrocketed.

Forget those at the Enlightenment Realm Late Stage; even the Deputy Commander of a Mercenary Corps who had just broken through to the Divine Containment Realm a couple of days ago had to greet him politely as "Mr. Long."

This feeling—being able to lecture the very "masters" who once lorded over him as if they were his grandchildren—was simply intoxicating.

Just as Long Xiao was basking in the thrill of his newfound power, the clamor outside the shop abruptly ceased.

It was followed by the sound of heavy footsteps.

Long Xiao's brow furrowed. He was about to adopt the air of a superior and offer a few words of reprimand when he looked up, and his expression changed in an instant.

At the shop's entrance, two rows of bodyguards in black Exoskeleton Armor, their chests emblazoned with the Su Heavy Industries emblem, parted swiftly, forcing a path through the crowded walkway.

A young man dressed in a bespoke, silver-gray suit walked in.

He was tall and slender with handsome features, but a chilling coldness emanated from his narrow eyes.

He didn't look at anyone, not even deigning to spare a peripheral glance for the looks of awe around him, and walked straight to the tea table.

The Eldest Young Master Su of the Su Family, Su Jian.

As for Iron Hand, the man who had been timidly perching on the edge of his seat,

he shot up as if he were a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

He scrambled back, chair and all, into the corner of the room. He kept his head bowed low, not daring to even breathe too loudly.

In East Sea Fortress City, the Su Family was the law.

For the Eldest Young Master Su to personally visit a low-class place like this, it could only mean trouble.

The teacup in Long Xiao's hand trembled, and scalding tea splashed onto the back of his hand.

He felt an invisible pressure bearing down on him like a mountain, nearly making his knees buckle.

But the image of Han Feng's calm, confident face flashed in his mind. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and straightened his spine. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, but he dared not make a sound.

'The main player has arrived.'

"You're Long Xiao?"

Su Jian stood before the tea table, looking down on Long Xiao. His tone betrayed no emotion, yet it carried the natural authority of someone in a superior position.

Long Xiao took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure.

He rose to his feet and cupped his hands.

"Young Master Su, you honor us with your presence. Please forgive my poor welcome. I was wondering…"

"Spare me the pleasantries."

Su Jian cut him off, his gaze like a razor blade scraping across Long Xiao's face.

"You should be well aware of what business my Su Family is in.

The council has granted my Su Family the exclusive rights to manufacture and sell all Spiritual Soldiers in the entire East Sea City."

He extended a finger and tapped lightly on the expensive Huanghuali tabletop, producing a sharp TAP, TAP sound.

"And now, someone is operating on my turf—eating my lunch and trying to break my rice bowl.

That's a bit out of line, wouldn't you say, Boss Long?"

The tea room fell deathly silent.

Iron Hand, cowering in the corner, broke out in a cold sweat, wishing he could turn invisible on the spot.

Long Xiao swallowed hard, the cold sweat on his back instantly soaking through his Tang suit.

But then he thought of Han Feng—the ruthless man who had cut down a Grandmaster in the middle of the street—and the spine that had begun to bend straightened once more.

"You must be joking, Young Master Su."

Long Xiao forced himself to say, "We're just a small operation, taking on a few private commissions. How could we possibly dare to compete with the Su Family's enterprise?

Besides, it's a free market. Customers can choose whomever they please."

"Oh?"

Su Jian raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

'A mere Black Market peddler actually dares to speak to me like that?'

"You've got some nerve."

Su Jian pulled out a chair and sat down with an imposing air, casually tapping the table.

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