The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 637

The sects moved like men who had tasted gold in their dreams and refused to wake. Greed had lit the fire, but caution kept it banked.

In the torch-lit halls of the many Sect, elders hunched over maps of Wudang Mountain while disciples sharpened blades and counted supply wagons.

They argued in low voices about alliances, supply lines, and the exact hour they would strike. Letters flew between mountain peaks on swift hawks.

Every elder made certain his own courtyard was secure, his concubines guarded, his treasury locked before any man dared the long road.

They were not fools. They had lived long enough to know that the strong ruled the Jianghu only until someone stronger waited around the next bend.

That makes it a slow move for any sect to try attacking the Wudang Sect in Qingshui City.

The bandits were different animals.

Word of the empty city reached the hills by dusk. No soldiers. No patrols. Just fat merchants and soft civilians left unguarded. The chieftains did not waste time on maps or letters.

They kicked dirt over their fires, swung into saddles, and rode. Hooves thundered down hidden trails as ragged companies poured toward Qingshui like wolves scenting blood. To them the city was no longer a city.

It was a beautiful woman sprawled across silk sheets, dress torn open, begging to be taken. They laughed at the thought of it, already dividing the spoils before the walls even came into sight.

Inside Qingshui, the first night had already written its verdict.

Dawn spilled pale light across the streets. Shopkeepers stepped outside and found their overturned carts righted, their stolen silver replaced by heavier pouches stamped with the City Lord’s seal. A note accompanied every one: “For damages and distress. The City Lord regrets the inconvenience.”

Old Chen, the dumpling seller, stared at the extra coins in his palm and felt something close to fear.

The warehouse foreman woke to the same gift beside his bed, jaw still throbbing, and wondered who in the nine hells was playing this game.

Early that morning at the Bai Mansion, Zhuge Liang found Alex standing in the courtyard. The strategist bowed respectfully, then straightened and posed the question that had kept him awake all night.

“Lord Bai,” he said carefully, “in the usual course of justice, we punish the criminals and return what was taken to the victim. We never offer extra silver for their inconvenience. May I ask why you do this?”

Alex turned from the city view. The morning sun carved sharp lines across his young face. He studied Zhuge Liang for a moment, then answered with a question of his own.

“On the first day, when people see that those who broke the law have simply vanished and been punished, tell me—what do you think will happen the next day? Will the people stop making mistakes, or will more and more of them break the law as the days go by?”

Zhuge Liang’s brow furrowed. “My lord, after witnessing the first day’s punishment, they will fear it. They will stop.”

Alex’s smile was small and cold. “That is exactly what I feared. If no one breaks the law, I will have no new slaves. So I gave the victims more money than they lost. It ensures people keep making mistakes.”

Zhuge Liang said nothing. Even his quick mind could not follow the logic. He simply bowed and withdrew.

The second day the numbers rose. The third day they doubled. Mother Ai’s calm voice reported each new infraction without emotion—three hundred and twelve, then five hundred and eighty-seven.

Zhuge Liang watched the tallies climb and felt the first crack of unease in his chest. Punishment was supposed to deter. Here it seemed to invite.

On the fourth morning he left the mansion and walked the streets himself, needing to see the truth with his own eyes.

What he found stopped him cold.

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