162: Chapter 162 The Welcoming Ceremony with a Thousand Armies

Jiang Feng propped his arms against the edge of the shaft and flipped himself out, soaking wet.

The thick hemp rope had mostly snapped, leaving only a short section wrapped around his wrist, its fibers completely frayed at the end.

He tore off the useless piece of rope and tossed it onto the pile of broken bricks at his feet.

The moment he stood straight, his knees buckled slightly.

The sprain in his right ankle finally began to take its toll; waves of pain surged up from the joints.

Jiang Feng gritted his teeth to steady himself and wiped away the muddy water still streaming down his face with the back of his hand.

Then he looked up.

Good grief.

The open ground surrounding the abandoned well was packed with people.

It wasn't just a scattered few; the place was surrounded three layers deep, packed so tightly that not even water could trickle through.

The forces of the three major factions were all present, each occupying a position with a five or six-meter buffer zone between them, no one touching anyone else.

Directly ahead, Xun Bai.

The black-lacquered grand tutors chair had been moved to the most prominent spot directly opposite the abandoned well, with two bluestone slabs placed underneath to raise it by half a foot.

Xun Bai sat atop it, his large sleeves hanging over the armrests and his back ramrod straight.

Behind him stood about twenty disciples in coarse cloth shirts, each holding an arm-length hardwood short staff with a sharpened tip, arranged like a simplified battle formation.

To the left, Gu Yuanshan.

The eleven members of the Scientific Expedition Team were lined up in a standard two-row combat formation, each holding a Type 56 semi-automatic rifle.

The rifles were polished to a shine, with the muzzles uniformly lowered toward the ground, but the veterans' fingers were all resting just half an inch outside the trigger guards, ready to raise their weapons at any moment.

Trapped in this hellhole for fifty-two years, their formation and marksmanship hadn't faltered in the slightest.

Gu Yuanshan stood at the front of the line, hands behind his back, his expression even colder than the muzzles of those rifles.

To the right, Zhou Sui.

The Mutual Aid Society's display was the most intimidating, with fifty or sixty people swarming over half the square.

Steel pipes, machetes, iron chains, bricks, and even someone clutching half a toilet seat.

Zhou Sui wore her casual jacket and stood at the front of the crowd, hands in her pockets, a signature smile hanging on her lips.

The three factions had carved the open ground around the well into three equal parts, boxing him in the center.

And Jiang Feng's position was exactly at the center of those three sections.

Several large gashes had been torn into the back of his windbreaker by jagged rocks, revealing the lining inside.

His pant legs were caked in a thick layer of silver-gray heavy metal ore mud, and his shoes were plastered with semi-dry sludge and gravel.

There wasn't a clean spot on him; he looked like he'd just been fished out of a sewer.

But his spine remained straight, and he didn't retreat a single step.

Jiang Feng slowly reached his right hand into the inner pocket of his jacket.

His fingertips touched the foil-lined sealed bag.

The warm sensation radiating from the soil of reshaping inside the bag pressed steadily against his chest through the plastic and foil.

He pulled the bag out.

The foil reflected a piercing silver-white light under the gloomy sky.

The bag wasn't large; it could be held in one hand.

Jiang Feng placed it in his palm and gave it two slow, deliberate tosses.

The eyes of everyone present were drawn to it like iron filings to a magnet, locking onto the palm-sized plastic bag.

Among the fifty or sixty thugs from the Mutual Aid Society, several stood on their tiptoes.

Two of the veterans from the Scientific Expedition Team unconsciously raised their muzzles by half an inch, only to be nudged back by their comrades' elbows.

Xun Bai sat on the grand tutors chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, his knuckles bulging.

From three directions, nearly a hundred people's rapid breathing intertwined into a low, buzzing hum.

Jiang Feng held the bag in front of his chest for three seconds, ensuring everyone present could see clearly that the item was indeed in his hands.

Scouts from all three factions had been sent out before he even went down the well.

From the moment he kicked open the iron gate to the time he grabbed the hemp rope to climb back to the surface, these spies had been lying low around the ruins, waiting for the result.

They had seen the muddy water pouring back out of the wellhead.

And they had heard the earth-shattering booms echoing from underground.

The spies had raced back as fast as they could to report to their respective masters.

Thus, the three leaders had mobilized everything they had, laying out all their cards on this open ground.

Because everyone knew that if this outsider truly emerged alive from that dead end, the item in his hand was enough to shatter the balance Wuyin Town had maintained for decades, or even centuries.

Jiang Feng stuffed the foil bag back into his inner pocket and zipped it all the way up.

He patted his hands to shake off the dust from his palms and glanced toward the three directions.

"What's this? An awards ceremony?"

No one responded.

Nearly a hundred people stood frozen in place, their knives, guns, and clubs held still.

Jiang Feng clapped his hands twice; the crisp 'slap-slap' sounded exceptionally sharp in the silence.

"If you won't clap, a little welcome ceremony will do. If all else fails, just pour me a glass of water."

He turned in a circle, scanning the three walls of people from left to right.

"I just ran a full marathon underground; I'm parched."

The short staff in the hand of Xun Bai's Thin-faced Disciple trembled.

A member of the Scientific Expedition Team behind Gu Yuanshan swallowed hard, the sound loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Zhou Sui's smile finally faltered for half a second.

These people were blocking the way with guns and machetes, waiting to demand accountability or take what he had by force.

Instead, the man himself stood in the middle of the encirclement, covered in mud, and the first thing he did was ask for water.

Nearly a hundred people realized one thing at the same time.

This outsider wasn't afraid of them at all.