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Yuan City, within a certain dojo.

Otogirusu was kneeling on the floor, a tea table laid out before him with two cups of light green tea on it.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged man cross-legged.

This middle-aged man was rather peculiar: his appearance plain, neither good nor bad; his physique mundane, neither short nor tall; his clothes ordinary, neither trendy nor outdated.

Such a person, no more conspicuous than a stone if thrown into the street, exuded a chilling, unnatural aura.

Distorted, uncoordinated... it was like seeing an African elephant in the Arctic ice, or a full Han banquet with a dish looking up at the stars, creating a disturbingly incongruous picture.

This extreme discordance provoked unease in anyone who saw him, like a splinter festering under the skin, compelling a desire to remove him immediately and producing a visceral disgust.

Yet Otogirusu seemed oblivious to this, his androgynous, beautiful face bearing no trace of revulsion, but instead he smiled and made a welcoming gesture, softly opening his mouth to say,

"Mr. Hu, please try this, it's the Gyokuro tea from my homeland."
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The middle-aged man known as Mr. Hu didn't touch the tea in front of him; instead, he shook his head and looked around curiously, asking,

"Isn't your family one of the Six Major Zaibatsu in the Far East, why is your place so humble?"

His voice was peculiar, faintly accented and sounded as if two people were speaking at once, both thick and thin tones intertwined.

Otogirusu smiled slightly and responded, "The so-called Zaibatsu were not born as such; my ancestors during the Edo period were merely some minor nobility's 'Otogi', persons of such low status they didn't even qualify to have a surname, until the Meiji Restoration allowed all citizens to take surnames, and we assumed the name Otogirusu."

"One of our family precepts is never to forget the origins of the Otogirusu name, to remember our humble beginnings, and to avoid arrogance."

"Being in a foreign country, having a roof over our heads is already a great fortune, how could we ask for more?"

Mr. Hu gave him an inscrutable look, his face seeming to smile, "Your Chinese is good, but it's too formal, not colloquial enough, a bit stiff."

Otogirusu humbly said, "I am still trying to improve."

Touching his chin, Mr. Hu stared at Otogirusu, his expression eerie,

"I've met quite a few Far Eastern People in the organization, but you're the first 'normal' one I've encountered."

Otogirusu sipped from his tea cup with a raised eyebrow, "Should I feel flattered?"

Mr. Hu shook his head, "Just talking, you take it as you will, is there really a normal person among us? Even those who seem normal are just mimicking."

Otogirusu chuckled, "Mr. Hu, your words complicate my feelings."

"Enough, I've come to ask for your help with something," Mr. Hu picked up the cup of Gyokuro tea from the table.

Otogirusu prompted, "Please speak."

Drinking down the tea, Mr. Hu smacked his lips and said,

"You know Xue Jing, right?"

After speaking, he paused abruptly, as if receiving some information, then realized,

"Oh right, you're about to meet him very soon."

Otogirusu's eyes narrowed.

"I need you to lose to him… as subtly as possible, as if you truly were defeated," Mr. Hu drawled.

"Why?" Otogirusu asked.

Mr. Hu held up a finger, explaining,

"This man is harboring an incredibly complex 'abnormality', constantly getting entangled in countless causations. Allowing him to grow, to develop, will one day bring great turmoil to the entire world."

"In our industry, such people are known as 'exceptions'."

Pointing his finger at Otogirusu, he continued, "But now, he's grown for too short a time... and you, you are too strong."

"I need you to play the sacrificial lamb, nourish him to achieve further advancements."

"In return, I will tell you three things you want to know."

Pausing, Mr. Hu added, "Anything."

Otogirusu didn't respond immediately but sipped his tea, placed the cup on the table, then rested his hands on his thighs, his posture elegantly rigid.

He shook his head, stating,

"I refuse."

Mr. Hu's expression did not change: "Oh?"

"Mr. Hu, forgive my frankness, but you are insulting martial arts."

Otogirusu's expression gradually grew colder.

"Free from guile, supremely honorable, exhausting both parties' full capacities, burning oneself, striving intensely to defeat or to be defeated by the opponent, I believe this is the necessary respect owed to a true Martial Artist."

"What you're asking of me is to force me to insult him, to insult myself, and to insult martial arts."

"I demand an immediate apology."

Mr. Hu stiffened, then chuckled inexplicably: "An interesting lad."

"Well, that's alright."

"If he is an exception, how could his trials be few, the Extreme Martial King of those days also..."

He stood up, looking at Otogirusu.

"I apologize to you; it was indeed an untimely request… You really are a member of the organization, I see."

As he spoke wistfully, Mr. Hu's figure had already vanished from the dojo.

Otogirusu sat there, unmoved by Mr. Hu's sudden disappearance, his eyelids slightly lowered, deep in thought.

Then, the room's sliding door was pushed open, and a young man with a serious and determined face entered, speaking in the language of the Far East: