Chapter 58: How Can I Lose with a Hand Like This?

The following morning, at dawn.

It was the opening day of the New Dreamwalker Invitational Tournament.

Du Fang had put on the black trench coat that symbolized a Dreamwalker early in the morning. After a leisurely breakfast, he took Luoluo by the right hand, and with his wife's hand resting gently on his left shoulder, the three of them stepped out of their home.

At the entrance to their residential complex, his assistant was waiting. Today, she wore a hoodie with jeans, looking energetic and lively, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Brother Du! The car is ready!"

She was practically bubbling with enthusiasm.

In the distance, a deep-blue, extended luxury car was parked with an air of elegance and nobility.

"We’ll ride in this today. It’s my grandfather’s car—one of a global limited edition. I borrowed it for the day. For an event like the Dreamwalker Invitational, we need to make a statement. Let’s overwhelm our opponents with sheer presence before the competition even begins."

With a grand gesture, she spoke with an air of bravado.

With her and Brother Du together, the New Dreamwalker Tournament would be chaos and carnage—she’d provide the chaos, and he the carnage.

Perfect!

Du Fang’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

Overpowering the competition with an air of extravagance?

Still, he didn’t reject her well-intentioned effort. Bringing Luoluo with him, he got into the car.

There was no denying the difference a luxury vehicle made. The ride to the Jiangling Sports Arena was so comfortable that Du Fang almost dozed off.

The weather was perfect that day—bright and warm sunlight dispelled the chill of late autumn.

When they arrived, and his assistant opened the car door for him, Du Fang was stunned by the lively scene before him.

Outside the sports arena, a long line had formed early on.

Spectators were allowed to attend the New Dreamwalker Invitational in person, but tickets were limited and required connections to obtain.

The purpose of hosting the tournament, beyond fostering new talent and providing them a stage to shine, was to instill public confidence—thus, many parts of the competition were not broadcast.

Scenes that did make it to television were carefully edited highlights—only the most outstanding moments were shown.

Only the best was ever aired.

Though the audience was not large, those present were full of anticipation, chatting and laughing as they clutched their tickets.

Nearby, reporters with press badges hurried about, lugging cameras, eager to interview famous rookie Dreamwalkers from gold-medal teams.

"So lively?" Du Fang remarked in surprise, holding Luoluo’s hand.

"Didn’t you know, Brother Du? The New Dreamwalker Invitational is wildly popular. It’s a nationally supported event, designed to enhance respect and admiration for Dreamwalkers battling at the front lines of dream disasters, to strengthen national unity, and to diminish the public’s fear of dream disasters and dream demons."

"It’s all about fostering a more stable and harmonious society," his assistant explained with a smile.

"But compared to this, the National Dreamwalker Tournament is the real spectacle. Audience numbers aren’t even restricted for that one."

"There, you’ll see famous celebrity Dreamwalkers, even superstar assault teams. Their popularity is something else entirely."

She clearly knew a great deal about the tournament and explained it all to Du Fang.

"I thought the gold-medal teams were the highest? What’s a superstar assault team?" Du Fang asked, puzzled.

"A gold-medal team is the highest-ranked team in a city. Superstar assault teams… those are national-level squads. The dream disasters they handle are city-destroying, even nation-destroying nightmares."

"Our country is lucky. Abroad, such catastrophic dream disasters are much more common, and dream demons often run rampant. Some powerful dream demon organizations even control entire nations, keeping the populace captive and inciting chaos."

"That’s why, most of the time, superstar assault teams are sent to provide aid overseas, helping to quell dream disasters."

"Of course, they receive generous commissions, usually in the form of forbidden artifacts or treasures from dream disasters."

"Every member of a superstar team is unimaginably powerful—the weakest among them are already renowned city-class Dreamwalkers, and the strongest are the very pinnacle of the nation’s elite."

Her voice was full of yearning.

National-level—such a lofty height.

Du Fang's own eyes reflected a trace of longing.

"National-level Dreamwalkers… must be wealthy," he mused. "They probably achieved homeownership ages ago."

Homeownership freedom—that was his dream.

But he quickly reined in his thoughts. Superstar teams and national-level Dreamwalkers were still worlds away from him. Right now, he was just an ordinary rookie Dreamwalker.

Even though he’d recently gotten a bit stronger—after all, he’d taken down two dream demons at the foot spa the night before last—it was only with the help of Luoluo and his wife’s hand.

Du Fang knew that, by himself, his strength was still far from enough.

Nevertheless, he was confident that with continued hard work and training, he would become strong enough one day.

His assistant led him to the entrance of the arena’s passageway.

The entrance was cordoned off, with Dreamwalkers in black trench coats standing guard to ensure security.

Zhang Changlin sat in his wheelchair, with Su Jiuming, Si Nan, and Zhao Lu beside him, speaking words of comfort to a constantly nodding Chen Xi.

Seeing Du Fang approach, Su Jiuming waved excitedly, his figure swaying in the wind with his gesture.

At the entrance, a crowd had already gathered—most of them Dreamwalkers, many with youthful faces, likely the rookies participating in this year’s tournament.

Du Fang exchanged a few words with Zhang Changlin and the others.

Time ticked by.

As the sun climbed higher, spectators began to file into the arena, and the rookie Dreamwalkers lined up for invitation checks.

"Captain Zhang, Brother Su, we’re going in," Du Fang said seriously to Zhang Changlin and Chen Xi.

"Good luck. The New Dreamwalker Invitational is your official entry into the Dreamwalker world—a stage for you to give your all, so leave no regrets," Zhang Changlin replied with a smile from his wheelchair.

At this moment, he didn’t want to put any more pressure on Chen Xi.

Du Fang held Luoluo’s hand and walked toward the passage entrance.

At the doorway, Wen Ji stood with a cold expression.

He was serving as the invitation inspector for this tournament.

Wearing sunglasses and a crisp black suit, Wen Ji stood straight as a special agent might.

Du Fang greeted him with a warm smile.

"Wen, good morning."

I am now an emotionless invitation inspector.

"Please present your invitation. Without one, please turn around and leave," Wen Ji replied in a flat, icy voice.

Du Fang and Chen Xi handed over their invitations.

After a glance, Wen Ji punched a hole in each ticket and allowed them to pass.

Du Fang led Luoluo through the passage.

"Hey, Du!" Wen Ji suddenly called from behind.

Du Fang turned.

"Good luck!" Wen Ji flashed a thumbs-up and a broad, encouraging grin—his large, white teeth gleaming, a star-like glint sparkling in the gap.

In that instant, his icy persona collapsed entirely.

After all, Du Fang was the Infinite Dream Spirit user Wen Ji had reported.

He felt Du Fang’s performance reflected on his own reputation, so Wen Ji set aside his cold demeanor, offering Du Fang a rare, genuine smile of encouragement.

"Thank you," Du Fang replied with a smile.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wen Ji’s smile vanished in a fraction of a second, his face reverting to frosty indifference.

"Next," Wen Ji called out coolly to another rookie Dreamwalker.

…

Outside the passage.

As Du Fang and Chen Xi entered, Zhang Changlin exhaled deeply from his wheelchair.

"Another year, another rookie tournament…"

Each rookie Dreamwalker has only one chance to participate in the New Invitational.

This was their first true step into the Dreamwalker’s world—their baptism by fire.

Suddenly, Zhang Changlin looked up.

He sensed a provocative gaze directed his way.

Captain Sun Yaohai of Jiangling’s Gold-Medal Team Silver Wolf was approaching with his team.

Sun Yaohai’s eyes were fixed on Zhang Changlin with clear hostility. In the elevator, Zhang Changlin had easily subdued him and even slapped his face with a knife—a grave humiliation.

Sun Yaohai’s pride was still burning with resentment.

Afterward, he found no way to let go—every time he thought about it, he grew angrier.

Zhang Changlin’s arrogance was the last straw.

What gave Zhang Changlin the right to be so arrogant? All he had was a rookie with an Infinite Dream Spirit but no special abilities—not even a lower-tier Dreamwalker!

How could that rookie possibly compare to the genius Sun had signed for fifty million?

As he looked at Zhang Changlin in his wheelchair, Sun’s face darkened to match his rival’s. He refrained from mocking the wheelchair—after all, Zhang Changlin was confined to it because of yesterday’s battle.

It was said Zhang Changlin had faced the Celestial Demon Dragon King alone—

The Celestial Demon Dragon King! That was a being on par with a city-level Dreamwalker.

So, in this case, the wheelchair was a badge of honor.

The flashing lights on the chair, paired with Zhang Changlin’s grim visage, etched arrogance and romance into his very bones.

"Xiangzi, if you come up against Wildfire’s rookie in the third round for champion, don’t hold back. Defeat him thoroughly for me!" Sun Yaohai ground his teeth.

He had absolute trust in the rookie he’d signed for a fortune.

Beside him, a young man with side-swept bangs and hands in his pockets smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Captain Sun. They said they’d make me Lan Xiang soil myself... I’d like to see just how strong this rookie, whom Captain Zhang values so highly, really is."

"Besides, you’ve even lent me your top-grade forbidden artifact, and with my superior special ability, ‘Soul Control,’ I could take on even mid-tier Dreamwalkers."

"How could some nobody from Wildfire’s team possibly beat me?"

"I’m holding a royal flush—how could I lose?"

With a flick of his hair, Lan Xiang’s bangs landed with a snap on his forehead. He arched a self-assured, roguish eyebrow.

"So, there’s absolutely no way Lan Xiang will be defeated. Not in this lifetime."

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