True Yuan energy extended outward, immobilizing these men. Mu Lin descended into the third basement level of the mansion.
Inside a spacious room, he found Douglas. However, he hadn’t yet decided exactly what to do with him.
Now that Douglas and the others were immobilized, Mu Lin took a moment to look around the room. Previously, he had been focused only on searching for people and weapons, but now that everyone was subdued, he had time to examine the third basement level carefully. As he looked around, he realized that Douglas truly knew how to enjoy life.
Perhaps preparing for a celebration of success, the table was laden with delicacies: Luang’s “Blood Duck,” sometimes called Rouen Duck; white wine-braised tripe and stuffed tripe. There was lamb, white wine-braised beef, mustard-braised rabbit. Seafood included oysters, small lobsters affectionately called “Mademoiselle Charbe,” Normandy sauce sole, sardines, mackerel, a white wine seafood combination stew, Alsatian foie gras, caviar from the Caspian Sea, and a bottle of Bordeaux’s top-tier red wine from 1837.
Glancing into the adjacent rooms, he chuckled to himself—he actually found some treasures. One room was a wine cellar, filled with numerous world-famous wines. Mu Lin had always loved wine. As a child, he tricked the monkey family of Xiao Hei to steal their monkey wine. While traveling and studying, he explored every corner of his homeland, sampling wines from every region. Though the production of wine was limited back then, Mu Lin, with his knack for sneaking, trickery, and even digging underground cellars in famous wine-producing areas, always managed to find hidden treasures buried for decades or even centuries, all to the delight of this wine connoisseur.
But Mu Lin never considered himself merely a drunkard. He proudly called himself a “Grand Drinker,” declaring, “A grand drinker doesn’t seek victory, nor does a wine lover seek dominance.” Drinking, to him, was about “appreciation,” about reaching a state of gentle intoxication, where the mind wanders beyond the mundane. Seeing the wine cellar only solidified his decision—he had to claim it for himself. After all, they were the ones who plotted against him first; it was only natural he took this place as his rightful due. Plus, it would help him spend their ill-gotten wealth. How to take it? He’d figure that out—first, he’d drink.
As he ate and drank, he pondered. Mind probing techniques—useless. Soul searching—foolish… Wait! Puppet techniques! He could turn them into his puppets! This technique was a combination of talisman arts and Maoshan sect magic, a skill he had acquired during his travels. He had practiced it before, but never applied it in real life.
It was a synthesis of mind probing, soul searching, soul swapping, and puppet techniques. First, use mind probing to extract memories, then use spiritual awareness—not True Yuan energy—to search the soul. Next, use soul swapping to erase or implant memories, then use puppet techniques to embed new commands, and finally seal the soul with a puppet talisman. Done!
He tried it on a henchman. The man looked at Mu Lin and said, “Daddy! Pick me up!”
Puppeted.
He tried another. As soon as he was released, he shouted, “Damn it, you dare come back! I’ll kill you!”
Sigh. Dead. Puppeted. Another one, upon waking, asked, “Young Master, how did I end up here?”
Success! The process was perfected. From now on, this would be the “Mu-style Puppet Technique.”
“Master, good! You are the Master. The Master belongs in his own room. This place will be the Master’s from now on.” Mu Lin whispered to himself, secretly delighted.
He pulled over Douglas—he was the head steward. Now that the long-lost young master had been found, he was puppeted. Then he pulled over two younger brothers—inner and outer stewards, both puppeted. Then four cousins—assistants to the outer steward. Then Douglas’s three sons and eighteen nephews—these were the next generation of stewards, all required to be loyal to the master. All were puppeted.
He stepped outside into the courtyard, deactivated the formation, restored everything to normal, and reawakened the henchmen he had previously immobilized. He then went to the third floor, second floor, first floor, and then the first and second basement levels, finally reawakening all the stewards on the third level and the remaining henchmen.
“Young Master! How did I get here? We’ve been looking for you for so long!” Douglas said, tears and snot streaming down his face.
“Oh, you forgot? Didn’t you invite me over about the Gibbs steward issue? Originally, I wasn’t in Boston, and your two families didn’t know each other. But two days ago, you told me that Gibbs set up a gambling scheme and swindled you out of $98 million. I repaid the debt, acquired your firm, and today you invited me home for drinks, remember?”
Mu Lin had implanted false memories, so as soon as he spoke, they all “remembered” accordingly. “Oh!”
Mu Lin paused, then continued, “Tell everyone, your subordinates, that I may come back here to live sometimes. Thank them for guarding this house for so long, but from now on, they should find other offices to work from. I don’t want any unpleasantness here.”
“No, Young Master!” they all said in unison.
“We’ll have the others leave tomorrow. This will be the Young Master’s home from now on,” said Douglas, the head steward.
“Oh, and I’ve finished eating. Let me remind you—Claire is under my protection. Don’t mistreat her. I’m leaving now,” Mu Lin said, rising to go.
“Understood, Young Master. But why are you leaving so soon?” Douglas asked.
“Well, I met Gibbs earlier today. He recognized me and asked me to come by. Now that things are settled here, I need to go talk to him. Sigh! It’s been so long since Grandfather passed, and you’ve remained loyal to the Mu family. But you two shouldn’t keep fighting each other. Peace brings prosperity, right?” Mu Lin said as he walked out.
“Of course, Young Master. We’ve both served Old Master, and we’ve dedicated our lives to the Mu family. We won’t fight anymore,” they replied.
“Good. Get me a car. I’ll drive to Gibbs’s place myself. Later, I’ll invite Gibbs somewhere for you all to chat,” Mu Lin ordered.
The henchmen outside watched Douglas respectfully escorting an Asian youth, which puzzled them, but no one dared ask questions since Douglas said nothing.
“I don’t want everyone in Boston to know you’re my steward. I don’t want to walk down the street hearing greetings everywhere, and I don’t want any trouble. You know what to do,” Mu Lin said, rolling down the car window as he spoke to Douglas.
“Yes, Young Master. I won’t let anyone unrelated discover your identity, nor will I allow anyone to disturb you,” Douglas assured him.
Mu Lin drove off. First, he needed to check if the four “idiots” could be restored—they were stewards’ men after all.
By scanning the memories of Douglas’s family, Mu Lin realized how valuable this trip had been. It turned out that the Douglas family, along with Gibbs and David families, controlled Boston’s underground society. As for the Chinese gangs in Chinatown, the three families considered them mere ants—easily crushed with a single foot.
The Douglas family, along with Gibbs and David, controlled nearly two-fifths of Boston’s real estate. Most of the city and state legislators were under their influence.
Douglas & Associates was merely a bait exposed to the public. Douglas had pretended to be weak, faking a loss of $98 million to Gibbs in Las Vegas over three months. He even took out bank loans and borrowed money from friends to gamble, feigning incompetence. To make the act believable, Douglas staged internal family conflicts, with everyone vying for leadership. He even fired some unimportant staff and spread rumors in society, prompting uninformed investors to try to buy the company at low prices. Douglas deliberately refused, eventually declaring bankruptcy to lure Gibbs into attacking the Douglas family. Together with the David family, they planned to set up an ambush, weaken the Gibbs family’s strength, and ultimately absorb it.
Both families had the same goal—eliminating Gibbs—so they naturally joined forces. But then came Mu Lin, who, wanting to launder his money, swallowed the bait whole. At the time, Douglas had nearly wanted to tear Mu Lin apart with his bare hands. Mu Lin had hired lawyers from New York. Since they didn’t know Mu Lin’s background, they signed the acquisition contract. Douglas had initially thought Mu Lin was sent by Gibbs to confuse them, so he played along with the acquisition process. Later, he investigated Mu Lin and found out he was just a Chinese doctor with some witch-doctor techniques, who had scammed wealthy Hong Kong elites. He had forged his credentials and paid a hefty sum to legally enter the U.S., arriving in Salt Lake City. Using his witch-doctor methods, he cured two professors, who recommended him to MIT, where he came to Boston to study. He was a nobody from mainland China with no ties to any factions.
Later, the Gibbs family also investigated him and concluded that Mu Lin posed no threat, so they were happy to let him go first as a distraction. When Mu Lin called him that morning, Douglas wanted to deal with him immediately, but fearing complications with the New York lawyers and the Gibbs family finding out, he reluctantly signed the supplementary agreement.
That evening, he sent four men to secretly kidnap Mu Lin, force him to sign over his assets, and then eliminate him. They continued to maintain the illusion for the Gibbs family.
Reading all this, Mu Lin almost fainted from rage. “Kindness invites bullying, gentleness invites riding.” His mother! He thought to himself—being the only cultivator here, soon to become a Daoist practitioner, how could these mortals dare to think this way? If others found out, he’d be laughed out of existence! Back in China, he had the black and white societies running scared, with everyone avoiding him like the plague. Yet here, in this tiny Boston, everyone wanted a piece of him. Was he really that easy to swallow? Grandma’s sake, but Mu Lin saw clearly—no earthly power would allow a single city to be controlled by one or two underground forces. Once those forces united, they would cause trouble for the government, so the government would inevitably eliminate any dominant force. They were too confident in their own strength. Mu Lin thought, three old men with a combined age of over 150—how could they have such childish ideas? It was as if they had lived their whole lives in a dog’s belly.
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