I Am the Dragon King 04

Many of the people here were White Dragon's subordinates, or at least they had leaned toward him before Fang Zhiyi inherited the title of Dragon King. Most of them didn’t even recognize Fang Zhiyi.

A crowd surged toward Fang Zhiyi, attacking him with every means at their disposal.

Little Hei covered his eyes but still peeked through his fingers, watching the brawl unfold while making sounds like "Huh," "Tsk tsk," and "Ouch."

When Ninth Dragon and Sixth Dragon pushed the door open and entered, they were stunned. As the future personal guards of the young master, they had no idea what to do. But after seeing the chaotic scene of people flipping and flying around, the two exchanged a glance and wordlessly turned around to leave.

The office was littered with fallen bodies, some even bleeding from their noses and mouths. Fang Zhiyi now held White Dragon by the collar, sneering, "Seems like you’ve got quite the opinion of me?"

White Dragon couldn’t wrap his head around it—how had the young master improved so drastically after just half a year of laying low with the Xia Family? Even against the old Dragon King, he wouldn’t have been defeated this quickly.

Unless… His eyes suddenly lit up with realization.

But Fang Zhiyi gave him no time to dwell on it, slapping him across the face. "I asked you a question—are you with me or not?"

"Young Master, you’re breaking a major rule…" White Dragon struggled.

Fang Zhiyi tightened his grip around White Dragon’s throat, squeezing slowly. "Oh?"

White Dragon would rather die than submit—just kidding. He immediately changed his tune: "White Dragon welcomes the Young Master’s inspection!"

Satisfied, Fang Zhiyi released him and clapped his hands. "That’s more like it."

That same day, he lounged in White Dragon’s office chair, feet propped on the desk, listening to White Dragon and his deputies report.

"With this, the four great families of Jiang City are now under the Dragon King’s Court’s control. Once the Young Master’s three-year term is up, you can ascend directly to the throne!" White Dragon said respectfully.

"Wait, your business scope is just real estate investments and movie productions?"

White Dragon nodded. "With the Dragon King’s Court’s financial backing, it’s easy. Plus, with the covert support of the four families, we’ve already amassed considerable funds."

Fang Zhiyi flipped through a file handed to him by one of the deputies, his brow furrowing.

"What kind of garbage plot is this? One guy takes out an entire regiment?" He tossed the script aside.

The deputy defended, "Not one guy—three."

"Three? You three? Go ahead, take him with you and try wiping out a fully armed regiment!" Fang Zhiyi pointed at White Dragon. "You think this trash can make money?"

White Dragon’s expression darkened. "Young Master, this is how the Dragon King’s Court operates. You don’t understand."

Fang Zhiyi scoffed. "I don’t understand? How did the Dragon King’s Court’s overseas assets come about? Assassinations, mercenaries, arms dealing, even drugs? Are you in this for profit or money laundering?"

Hearing him lay it out so bluntly, White Dragon grew visibly uncomfortable.

"From today onward, the funds will keep flowing in, but the entire company answers to me." Fang Zhiyi narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing them.

"But… if the higher-ups punish us, it’ll be a problem."

"The higher-ups are overseas. They can’t kill you. But I can—right now." Fang Zhiyi casually crushed a crystal paperweight on the desk.

After exchanging glances, the men all bowed in unison. "We obey the Young Master’s command!"

Fang Zhiyi stood. "Also, I’m not a fan of that title."

White Dragon was the quickest to react. "We obey the Dragon King’s command!" The others hesitated for a second before dropping to one knee as well.

Pleased, Fang Zhiyi nodded and left.

Once he disappeared around the corner, a deputy whispered, "Lord White Dragon… is the Young Master planning a coup?"

White Dragon seemed lost in thought. "You handle the company for now. I have business elsewhere." Without another word, he walked off.

The remaining men exchanged uneasy looks. "Should we report this to the higher-ups?"

"Better not. Did you see how White Dragon got manhandled? Like a chicken."

"Yikes… you’re right."

That night, someone slipped out of the dormitory and headed for a public phone booth. Just as he was about to dial, a gun pressed against the back of his head. Sweat poured down his face—it was one of the deputies from earlier.

Whoever had approached him without a sound was clearly an expert. And an expert with a gun, no less.

"Put the phone down. You’re coming with me."

The deputy was led away into the darkness.

Fang Zhiyi returned to the Xia Family, resuming his spoiled-brat act—being waited on hand and foot. The three members of the Xia Family despised him to the bone but dared not speak up. They couldn’t find any skilled fighters to deal with him, and Fang Zhiyi was growing increasingly brazen, shamelessly demanding pocket money from Xia Bingbao, Xia’s Mother, and even Xia Wuyue.

Though reluctant, they gritted their teeth and handed it over. With cash in hand, Fang Zhiyi went out to party. Soon, rumors spread across Jiang City about the Xia Family’s son-in-law living it up every night.

Fang Zhiyi befriended quite a few rich second-generation heirs. The original owner of his body had despised these people, but Fang Zhiyi was different—he partied harder, spent more lavishly, and was easier to get along with. Before long, he was running with their crowd.

Some even acknowledged him as their big brother, and they indulged in debauchery together.

Watching Fang Zhiyi drive off in her sports car, Xia Wuyue’s face turned livid. The scars on her face had cost a fortune to treat, and the uneven skin tone was a blow to her pride. Her hatred for Fang Zhiyi festered. Before, he had been spineless but mostly stayed home, cooked meals, and endured scolding with his head down. Now, he was a full-blown playboy—funded by her family’s money.

If they refused to give him money, he would "accidentally" destroy things—antiques, contracts in Xia Bingbao’s study, even their bedroom doors in the dead of night. The bodyguards were no match for him, let alone her or her parents. They had no choice but to endure his tyranny.

Xia’s Mother once called the police, but after an investigation, the officers dismissed it as a domestic dispute, offering nothing more than a lecture and suggesting divorce.

At the mention of divorce, Fang Zhiyi shook his head like a rattle drum. "No way! Such a wonderful wife and such kind in-laws—why would I ever divorce?"

While Fang Zhiyi was enjoying himself, Little Hei suddenly warned, "Host, the transmigrator seems to have arrived."

"Oh?" Fang Zhiyi instinctively scanned the heirs around him. "Xia Wuyue’s simp, right?"

Little Hei teased, "Speaking of simps, weren’t you—wait, no, the original owner was."

"Host, tomorrow the Xia Family is attending a banquet. Qin Aotian will carry out his first mission."

Fang Zhiyi took a swig of alcohol. "Can you handle his system?"

Little Hei shook his head. "It’s not the same as me, but I’ll figure something out."

Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Good. I was getting bored lately."

"Host, knowing you, I’d have thought you’d strike the Qin Family before the transmigrator even showed up."