"Yes, Father, he saved me." Jack’s eldest son looked at Malin, his face half filled with fear and half with confusion. The former was because he had seen Malin’s true nature and had instantly entered a state of distortion, but Malin pulled him back, just as he had pulled his father earlier. In that case, if there really were a funeral, they wouldn’t need to appear together as father and son. As for the latter... it must be because he had never seen such a huge light bulb in his life. With this thought, Malin jumped onto the platform. "Kid, what’s your name?" Robinson, Jack’s eldest son, walked up to Malin. "Malin Gaiate, I’m impressed by your camp." This was an honest statement, without a hint of sarcasm. In Malin’s eyes, although this camp was filled with various ancient elements and the people’s clothing wasn’t great, at least their clothes were new. This proved that the great devastation hadn’t completely wiped out human civilization in this area, which was different from the slave masters in the central region. Malin even wondered if, should Chaos disappear and the monsters vanish, the humans venturing out on the surface would once again wage a North-South War against the northern slave masters. Hmm, that would surely be a magnificent scene. Unfortunately, the slave masters had already been set on a path to ruin by Malin, just waiting for Jason to arrange everything so Malin could sign. Yes, sign the extinction order. On that paper, the name of Death would eventually be left, because their opponent had a heart of stone. "Thank you, although I feel that with your status, you wouldn’t actually like it here." The middle-aged man awkwardly smiled at his colleague: "No problem, Eric, my father and I can swear on our lives, but I must state upfront that this kid is extremely powerful, so powerful that my father and I are both intimidated by him." "As long as there’s no problem." The middle-aged man called Eric nodded, then a young man with a Yin-Yang hairstyle next to him jumped out, walking up to Malin: "Hey, kid, are you really as powerful as Robinson says? I don’t see it." "Can I teach him a lesson?" Malin looked at Eric, who was taken aback for a moment, then nodded: "As long as he doesn’t die, after all, he’s a member of the Black Guard, if he dies in the camp, I’ll have to write a very long report to explain everything." Malin nodded, then raised his hand. The Yin-Yang head instinctively sensed trouble as Malin raised his hand. He wanted to draw his gun but pulled out a snake instead. This was a hint. The young man remained unfazed, pointing the snake at Malin—this was a very correct judgment. In such a life-or-death moment, it’s better to trust oneself than to doubt. But his resistance ended there, as Malin flipped his hand, and the Yin-Yang head was slammed to the ground by spiritual energy. All external objects on his body were shattered under the impact of spiritual energy, but he survived. When Malin lifted him with spiritual energy and tossed him into a garbage pile, the watchers on the opposite platform whistled and clapped cheerfully, laughing as if they were five-hundred-strong. Then, a few men in black couldn’t take it anymore and jumped over to chase away these death-defying folks. "Spiritual energy, Triple Talent, kid, is there anything else we don’t know?" "Not at the moment." Malin said with a smile, pulling out a gun and flicking it. The bullet, after curving around a few barrels and a small tin house, hit the gun in the right hand of the Yin-Yang head who was trying to stand up—this kid may not be significant, but he sure had a resilient spirit, still holding his gun and wanting to retaliate against Malin, even when Malin hadn’t yet lifted the suggestion. When the gun in his hand was reduced to pieces by Malin’s bullet and the suggestion was broken, the kid finally could shout profanities: "You monster!" "I said he was strong." Old Jack stood up this time. "Shut up, you old dog!" The Yin-Yang head glared at Old Jack, but Old Jack didn’t mind, instead looking at Malin, chuckling as he pointed below the Yin-Yang head. Malin also laughed, acknowledging that Old Jack indeed lived up to being called an old dog; his nonchalance was truly intriguing. However, Robinson was not pleased, glaring at the Yin-Yang head: "Apologize to my father, you novice." "Enough, Robinson, people of the Black Guard don’t need to apologize to an old man, and I’ve outgrown living for face-saving. But I think young Mr. Malin is the one who deserves an apology." Old Jack laughed as he spoke. Robinson glanced at his father, then at Malin before finally looking to his superior Eric. The latter nodded, looking at the Yin-Yang head, who was putting on his spare clothes: "Giles, apologize to young Mr. Malin, a Triple Talent apostle whom neither you nor I could surpass in our lifetime." The Yin-Yang head was silent for a moment, finally bowing his head and uttering an apology after putting on his pants. Malin thought, considering the kid’s spirit, that getting him to say sorry was already commendable, and as Malin himself, he couldn’t lower himself to the level of mortals. So he nodded, snapped his fingers, and the gun fragments scattered on the ground flew to Malin’s hand, reassembling into a gun in everyone’s view. Malin tossed the gun back to the Yin-Yang head named Giles, who caught it, checked it—taking a particular look at the magazine, confirming the bullets were intact. He reloaded the magazine, then pointed the gun at Malin, only to holster it swiftly before anyone else could react, wiping his nose: "I’m sorry, young Mr. Malin, I must admit your strength far exceeds my imagination, sorry, I felt like a clown by what I just did." "It’s alright, you used yourself to demonstrate to everyone how powerful I am." Malin finished saying this and gestured for Old Jack to come over. Malin watched this elder, whose sunset was approaching; without external aid, Malin was certain this old man could live at most another two years—his heart and lung functions were irrevocably declining, but Malin could help him. Taking out a vial, Malin gestured for the old man to lift his hand, placing the vial in his palm. "What, what is this?" Jack couldn’t comprehend the liquid rolling within the vial, but someone in the Black Guard recognized it, whispering in Eric’s ear for a moment before Eric walked over: "Old Jack, this is good stuff, if you don’t want to take it, you could sell it to me." "If you want the medicine, I can sell it to you, though I still don’t know what you use as currency in these camps, or what these currencies can buy." Malin said, pulling out another vial and tossing it to Eric, watching the middle-aged man frantically try to catch it, Malin smiled and looked at Jack: "Jack, you damned old dog, do you not trust me, your young Mr. Malin?" With Malin’s words, the old man suddenly laughed, nodding: "Indeed, how could I not trust you." Saying this, he pulled the cork and drank the potion in one gulp. Then, visibly, the old man began to shed his skin; at the same time, new teeth pushed out the old ones, which he spat onto the ground, then reached into his shirt to pull out a small piece of arm before everyone’s eyes. "I never imagined this thing could detach from my body." Jack said, looking at Malin: "Are you... are you a Deity?" Everyone looked at Malin, waiting in anticipation for this child, who had continuously displayed miracles before them, to give an answer. In response, Malin smiled slightly: "I am Malin, Malin Gaiate, from... the Old Continent."