The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 636

When night came, Alex dragged Zhuge Liang over for dinner.

He was deep in thought.

If he meant to keep the promise he had made—five years to drag Wudang from the shadows and plant its banner at the very top of the Jianghu—he would need more disciplined blades. He would need an army. Real soldiers.

People who would bleed and die for Wudang without hesitation, without question.

Slaves were the fastest way. Once taken, they could not protest. Even if they protested, they would die. They had no human rights. They were a deadly machine in the making.

In the Jianghu, the strong ruled. Defeat them, and the laws of heaven and earth itself bound them as slaves to the victor. No contracts. No oaths. Just raw, unbreakable submission.

Every enemy they crushed became another sword in Wudang’s hand. Every rival lured here and broken became another brick in the foundation he was building.

He needed more enemies.

A great deal more.

Last time, he had moved all the prisoners from Qingshui City to the Wudang sect, swelling its disciples into the thousands. Yet he still needed more.

Alex turned his head slightly. Zhuge Liang sat across from him, eating dinner. He smiled like a gangster waiting for people to look for trouble with him, so he could strong-arm them and turn it into an opportunity.

“Zhuge Liang,” Alex said, “Who do the city soldiers of Qingshui belong to?”

Zhuge Liang didn’t hesitate. “They belong to you, City Lord Bai. Every last one.”

Alex nodded once. “Good. Starting tomorrow, all of them report to Wudang for intense training. Full immersion. No exceptions.”

Zhuge Liang cleared his throat. “My lord… if every soldier leaves the city for Wudang, who maintains order in Qingshui?”

Alex smiled. It was small, sharp, and utterly without warmth. “If they want to break the law while the soldiers are gone, that’s even better. We’ll just drag them up the mountain too. Let the mountain straighten their minds.”

Zhuge Liang’s face tightened. “This must not happen. The people will—”

Alex turned to face him fully. “Who is the city lord, Zhuge? Me? Or you?”

The strategist’s mouth snapped shut. For a heartbeat the two men stared at each other—one young and unyielding, the other older and suddenly very aware of the line he had nearly crossed.

“You are,” Zhuge Liang said at last, bowing low. “Of course.”

The next morning the streets of Qingshui City rang with the tramp of boots.

Every soldier—city guard, patrol captain, even the night watch—marched in perfect columns toward the mountain road. Armor gleamed under the rising sun. Faces were grim, but none dared speak against the order.

Yet inside the soldiers’ minds, they believed City Lord Bai had already gone completely mad.

When he was young, he had been the number one debauchee of Qingshui City — a man who knew nothing but gambling, drinking, womanizing, and every despicable act imaginable.

Now he had become a Wudang disciple and had caused the sect itself to stand half a step from ruin. As city lord, he was mobilizing every soldier from a city teeming with bastards just like his former self. He clearly intended to destroy the entire Qingshui City.

But as soldiers, they had no choice. They could only obey, even if they thought the orders were pure insanity.

At the city gates, a single proclamation had been posted on every notice board, read aloud by criers at every major crossroads. The words were simple, blunt, and impossible to misinterpret.

“By order of City Lord Bai, any infraction—large or small—will be punished by one full year of mind and moral correction at Wudang. Harm a citizen, cheat a merchant, raise your voice in anger, or even litter the streets, and you will march up that mountain. No excuses. No appeals.”

The people who listened to the announcement stood shocked for a moment, then burst into hard, disbelieving laughter.

In the teahouses and back alleys of Qingshui City, men slapped their thighs and roared until tears streaked their faces.

The new proclamation—posted fresh that morning on every wall—had sounded terrifying at first. One mistake, any mistake, and you marched up the mountain for a year of “mind and moral correction.”

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