Hou Lin was speechless for a moment. This young fellow before him was truly impervious to reason—a bit too honest for his own good. How was this discrimination?

Even Yang Ce, who had been watching all of this from the sidelines, couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. Looking at the young man before him, he asked, "You mean to say you're very skilled?"

"Of course I am," the young man answered smugly. "For instance, against someone like you—I could take on three or four of you without breaking a sweat."

At these words, Bao Lin and Hou Lin both stared wide-eyed. This guy really had no filter—did he think bragging came free of charge? He'd say anything. He could take on three or four Yang Ces? Hou Lin wouldn't even dare claim that three or four of himself, attacking together, could beat Yang Ce—let alone one man fighting three or four.

"Heh, is that so?" Yang Ce studied the young man, something stirring in his mind. He asked, "What did you all do before?"

"We all graduated from martial arts schools. We'd even thought about becoming heroes—robbing the rich to help the poor, standing up for the weak. Never thought even finding a job would be this hard." Here the young man's face fell, a trace of bitterness creeping into his expression.

"Robbing the rich to help the poor?" Yang Hengye said. "You're applying to be security guards. First of all, your thinking has a problem. What do you mean, 'robbing the rich to help the poor'? This isn't the old society anymore. People who hire bodyguards are people with means. If you kill them and rob them, who would ever dare hire you again?"

"Uh—" The young man grew instantly embarrassed. He scratched at his scalp and said, "I was just talking off the cuff. What I meant is that our skills aren't weak at all, we just can't find suitable work. To be honest with you, all thirty-some of us are anxiously waiting for our next meal."

"Thirty-some?" Yang Ce sucked in a cold breath. "Why are there so many of you?"

"Our graduating class from the martial arts school had over a hundred people, and none of us got job placements. Those of us who are from the Northeast and are fellow townsmen came back together. Apart from a few with connections who found gatekeeper jobs at government offices or public institutions, all of us are sitting at home unemployed," the young man explained.

"Let me see your letters of introduction and graduation certificates," Yang Ce said after a moment's thought.

"You—does your word count for anything? I mean, can you speak for this company?" the young man asked cautiously.

"If Brother Yang tells you to show them, then show them right away. Don't let this opportunity slip through your fingers," Hou Lin said, glancing at the young man.

"All right, all right." Seeing that even the company's manager was backing him up, the young man figured there must be a way in. He hurriedly reached over and opened the briefcase of one of the men behind him, pulled out a thick stack of documents, and handed them to Yang Ce.

Yang Ce flipped through them casually. Sure enough, all of these men had graduated from a martial arts school, and there were recommendation certificates for employment issued by the subdistrict office. Their identities, it seemed, would pose no problem.

"You say your skills are good?" Yang Ce said, handing the materials back to the young man.

"That's right. Like I said, I'm very strong." The young man thumped his chest.

"Fine, then. Spar with him and let me see your kung fu." Yang Puyi pointed at Hou Lin.

"Ah?" The young man's jaw dropped. "That's—that's probably not such a good idea. He's the company manager. If I hurt him, would he still give me a job?"

"Here, what I say goes," Yang Linyue said flatly. "If I tell you to spar, then show me your real ability—otherwise get out right now. The opportunity is right in front of you. Whether you can seize it depends entirely on how you perform."

"All right, for the sake of my brothers, I'll go all out." The young man gritted his teeth. "But I have one request. Even if I do hurt him, and you want to take revenge on me, you can refuse to hire me—but my brothers here, you—you'd at least have to solve jobs for three—no, five of them."

"Done. I agree," Yang Hengye said. This fellow wasn't as simple as he looked after all. He had a bit of cunning in him—not bad. If he truly had the skills, with some training, he would make a fine blade at his side.

"Come on, then." The young man walked to the center of the company lobby and addressed Hou Lin.

Hou Lin didn't move. He turned his head to look at Yang Ce.

Yang Mo said with some exasperation, "I told you, if you're going to spar, you can't do it at the company's front gate. Come on, take him to find a training room."

Hearing Yang Juehuan's words, Hou Lin and Bao Lin led the young man—five of them in all—to an empty training room. After closing the door, Yang Minlan nodded to Hou Lin and said, "Go ahead. Don't hold back."

"All right." Hou Lin turned and walked toward the young man.

Though the young man had said he would hurt Hou Lin, in truth he was already holding back. After all, he was asking these people for a livelihood—if he really injured him, it would do no one any good.

But once Hou Lin made his move, the young man's brows knitted sharply and his expression turned far more serious. He had evidently felt the pressure: Hou Lin was no simple opponent.

The young man had assumed the company's boss couldn't possibly know any martial arts. He never expected that not only did Hou Lin know kung fu, but he was no weakling. The young man was forced to take him seriously, and what began as a casual exchange turned into genuine sparring.

With Yang Juehuan's blessing, Hou Lin struck without mercy, fierce and overbearing, catching the unprepared young man off guard. Yet gradually, the young man began to read Hou Lin's attacks and counter each move.

"Eh?" Yang Puyi was taken aback. He knew exactly how skilled Hou Lin was—not on his own level, but among ordinary people, a cut above the rest. And this young man could actually withstand Hou Lin's ferocious assault.

What astonished Yang Ce even more was that the young man could not only defend himself, but as he gradually figured out Hou Lin's moves, he began to probe with attacks of his own.

Excellent, Yang Ce cheered inwardly, though his face betrayed nothing. Beneath the surface, however, Yang Juehuan's mind was racing, calculating several things at once.

From the attacks by assassins on Hou Lin and Bao Lin, Yang Ce had begun to feel the limits of his own reach. His own skills might be formidable—truly excellent—but after all, he was only one man.

There were many matters Yang Yongjin could not possibly handle personally. Take the Guo Jinbiao affair: Yang Ce had recently been so swamped that his feet were tripping over the back of his head, with no time at all to go to Jidun City and make trouble for Guo Jinbiao.

But if he had men under him, such trifling matters could be delegated. Of course, these so-called subordinates did not mean Hou Lin and Bao Lin—they were his visible strength, and their development was focused on business.

What Yang Ce had in mind was whether he could gather more talents akin to assassins under his command—men who, even if not his equal, could, with his training, hold their own.

This was what one called shadow power. Many things inconvenient for Hou Lin and the others to do openly could be entrusted to the shadow forces. That was why, when Yang Ce had just now laid eyes on the young man and his group, the thought of taking them in for his own use had immediately taken root.

Only whether these people could truly be of great use remained to be seen—which was why Yang Ce had proposed that the young man spar with Hou Lin.

But from what he saw now, this man's skills were passable enough. To fight Hou Lin to a draw—that was quite good.