I Am Your Natural Enemy

Wen Yan had, in a very down‑to‑earth way, added a whole bunch of notes and warnings; whatever flaws there were, whatever consequences practicing this boxing would bring, he’d spelled them out crystal clear.

He parked the matter for now; as things stood, this guy was either stupid or malicious.

If he just wanted to grab a soft persimmon to squeeze, use this as a pretext to talk about his own issues, and then actually came over to do the exchange, that only proved the guy was dumb.

If from the very beginning he’d been planning to use this kind of occasion to hoist Fuyu Mountain up as the spearhead, so he could achieve his own goals, then this person was malicious.

Taking advantage of the fact that the afternoon meeting hadn’t started yet, Wen Yan decided to first look up this man’s detailed profile.

He’d skimmed it casually before, just to confirm the background, and knew that more or less, the guy wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with him.

Before digging in, Wen Yan pondered for a moment, then asked the Black Box a question.

”If I use my privileges now to look at more detailed information, will that leave a log? Will everyone whose privileges are the same as mine, or higher than mine, or who hold the relevant authorization, be able to see the record of what I’ve browsed?”

”That’s not entirely correct. Only people with higher privileges than you, or those with relevant authorization, can see the log of you browsing this content.”

”Then will the fact of who has viewed these logs also be recorded?”

”Yes. Checking browsing logs is treated even more strictly than checking content. The time, place, person, the device used, which logs were checked, and for how long—everything will be automatically recorded.”

”Then if you go check something, will that be logged?”

”Yes, it will.”

”And who can view your logs?”

”The General Director.”

”Anyone else?”

”No one else.”

”Good. Help me look up the detailed information I want to check now, then relay it to me.”

”All right, please wait a moment.”

Wen Yan put on his headphones, went back to his room to rest, and listened to the Black Box read out the relevant material in his ears.

Previously he’d mainly looked at the other side’s Mountain Sect; this stuff didn’t even count as confidential, it was considered internally public information.

After all, they couldn’t possibly hide every single thing about which force or which mountain someone came from.

But a layer deeper—anything concerning the individual personally—that wasn’t something you could just look up at will.

Wen Yan just felt this guy was off. One moment he thought the man was simply stupid, the next he felt the guy was deliberately trying to make people think he was stupid.

If he used his own privileges to access this content now, it would definitely leave a record; others might even think he was being petty and vengeful.

From an outsider’s point of view, arguments in a meeting were actually totally normal.

Plus, making the Three Mountains and Five Ridges bleed a little and cough up some benefits—no matter how it was dressed up on the surface—at least for people outside the Three Mountains and Five Ridges, eighty percent of them were just there to watch the show and cheer silently.

Wen Yan was someone who’d done a lot of high‑intensity surfing online; he certainly understood the mentality of onlookers. As long as it didn’t concern them, or the other party wasn’t in the same class as them, they’d just stand back with hands in their pockets, watch the drama, and the bigger the drama, the better.

He lay on the bed in his room, eyes closed, listening to the Black Box’s broadcast.

As for the other party’s Mountain Sect—let’s just call it a Mountain Sect for now—their lineage actually went back quite a long way.

As early as a few hundred years ago, when The Last Dharma had yet to descend, they were mainly focused on Shaman Sect practices; the most well‑known part of their stuff was ”spirit‑jumping” rituals.

Ancestor, totem, nature—these were the three core elements.

But inside, they had tons of sub‑branches, no unified canon, no unified Divine Name, everything was particularly chaotic.

They themselves might not be able to sort it all out, and outsiders definitely couldn’t get it fully clear, or fully understood.

Later, during the few hundred years of The Last Dharma, many internal branches had already been buried in the flow of time and completely lost.

And some, like this one here, took the initiative to embrace the Martial Path, using the Martial Path as their foundation in the world, with the Shaman Sect content gradually becoming auxiliary.

Only by relying on this were they able to keep their lineage going.

After Spiritual Qi Resurgence, that auxiliary Shaman Sect content which had been less and less important started gradually rising again, becoming increasingly significant.

And if they wanted to establish a totem, then the fastest, most direct, and easiest way to gain Power naturally was to look for a Demon.

Strictly speaking, this seemed to be a common pattern, but across that vast northern region, the local differences were still quite large.

Some places focused on demon‑immortals, that is, White Fox, and the usual set of fox‑spirit combinations, while others followed Hu Huang Chang Mang Qing.

The so‑called Qing was Clear Wind Smoke Soul, the so‑called Floating Immortal, which was actually just a Ghost.

The regional differences were still very big: in some places, the Floating Immortal wasn’t allowed on the main altar, in others it could; it wasn’t fixed.

And the one Wen Yan was checking now belonged to the type where the Floating Immortal could come out onto the altar.

Previously, they’d had cooperation with a White Fox, but the White Fox they were working with ended up sacrificing itself during a blood‑offering summoning.

Of course, they probably thought Wen Yan was the one who did it.

But on the surface they didn’t dare say anything, after all, it was the White Fox courting death on its own. The Old Celestial Master spent all year guarding on the cliff in the Cloud Sea, the Scorching Sun Department had airtight defenses, yet the White Fox still dared to pull a fresh‑blood sacrifice, and directly summon something over from that side, especially with them clearly harboring ambitious schemes.

Those White Foxes died, the route was sealed, and no one could say a thing.

Even like that, everyone involved still felt Wen Yanxin was too soft‑hearted; this kind of thing absolutely couldn’t be done with a soft heart.

Continuing on, there was another Immortal Liu they had been in contact with; earlier, it had been dragged in by a Great Demon to help out in a fight, then hid in the belly of the mountain, thinking it was safe, and got wiped out in a single wave before even the people from the Northern Military Region could lay eyes on it.