He walked slowly, giving no hint of his true speed or power, melting back into the crowd as if he were just another discouraged participant.
He heard Xiao Feng's voice, fading slightly, as he continued to supervise the registration process. "Honestly, the sheer nerve of some people. Thinking they can just waltz in..."
Waltz in, you say? Jian thought, a cold, dark satisfaction settling deep within him. Oh, I will do more than waltz. I will bring the dance of death to your hallowed halls.
He moved towards the collection point for registration numbers. Another outer disciple, a young woman with kind eyes, handed him a small, wooden plaque. It was plain, unadorned, bearing only a single, crudely etched number.
"Here you go, Van," she said softly, offering a sympathetic smile. "Number 999.
