If there is anyone in Winster City right now who can cause a sensation beyond reporting tax evasion, it's only one person.

Ethan.

The news that Ethan's reimagined version of "The Persistence of Memory" was auctioned off for a jaw-dropping ten million Golden Rye in the Royal Capital quickly spread back to Winster.

The newspapers in Winster, which had been running long articles on the disadvantages of tax evasion and encouraging people to report taxes, all replaced their headlines with Ethan's picture and that of the painting the next day.

Of course, whether or not they had the painting depended entirely on their skills.

Because after Ethan completed the painting, it was never exhibited in Winster, so the only photos available in the city were those of the original sketches.

At this moment, it all depended on connections and timing.

The ones who managed to be on site and smartly snapped pictures of the sketches during the painting duel became the biggest winners.

They also had the privilege to interview Ethan at the earliest opportunity.

That's right, Ethan was already prepared to accept interviews.

It was a necessary task.

Whether to continue consolidating and enhancing his fame, or to intentionally or unintentionally reveal some news that he might be planning a personal art exhibition, journalists were his best allies.

Even though it is now a troublesome spring.

Many people are eyeing him like a hawk.

"How about this tie? Does it make me look too old-fashioned?"

Ethan adjusted the tie he planned to wear for the interview in front of the mirror while turning to look at Huoyan.

Huoyan finally arrived in Winster.

He didn't come alone this time; Ethan had sent someone to move almost all his belongings over.

This put an end to his thoughts of going back.

"Looks good, everything looks good on you." Huoyan tried hard to make his smile seem genuine.

He really didn't want to come; he was purely a research-oriented person who never left the house unless necessary and would ideally stay in the lab researching until death.

But there was no choice, Ethan's order was something he couldn't defy.

After all, he was aware of Ethan's true identity.

The King of the Beihai.

"Take a look at that, see if you have any insights." Ethan couldn't help but chuckle at his uncomfortable appearance; such a homebody needed to get out into the sun more.

And as uncomfortable as Huoyan was, as soon as he looked at what Ethan pointed to, all his discomfort vanished because he swiftly entered work mode.

What Ethan pointed to was precisely the trophy from that day Vincent brought back, the heart.

One must admit, the power of the True Namer of the Steel Tyrant was indeed formidable. So many days had passed, yet without any external energy, the heart was still faintly beating.

Huoyan walked over, observing while pulling out tools from who knows where.

After researching for a while, he said, "This should be a creation of the True Namer of the Steel Tyrant, and at a very high level."

An expert is still an expert; it didn't take long for him to understand the heart's composition.

"One of my main opponents now is a True Namer of the Steel Tyrant and is probably at level five." Ethan had chosen his tie by now, adjusted his collar, and looked at Huoyan again.

"Can you help me crack his creations?"

"It's very difficult, considering the level difference. But if it's just about his creations, I can give it a try."

Huoyan spoke and then, as if remembering something, hurriedly took out a long wooden box.

"Oh right, take a look at my work, made entirely according to your specifications. I added three features: one is hard to destroy, one is ultra-long range, and one is increased power. I haven't tested it yet, but I believe it can achieve maximum destructive effect within a thousand meters."

He opened the wooden box, revealing a streamlined, long-barreled, deep black rifle with an exquisitely polished scope mounted on top.

This was an entirely different design from rifles of the same era, indeed an Ethan creation.

His reference models were the Barrett, AWM, and a series of other famous guns.

"Truly an artwork. I must once again admire your aesthetic sensibility; how did you come up with such a gracefully styled creation?"

Huoyan gently caressed the sniper rifle as if touching a lover.

Ethan said nothing, directly picking it up. It was quite heavy, but for a True Namer, it should be no problem.

He peered through the scope and found it seemed rather extraordinary.

"Haha, you noticed, didn't you? Actually, the part I'm most proud of about this gun is the scope; it's an alchemical creation, endowed with the eye of an eagle, and can link with the gun. This rifle is indeed a four-feature creation, unmatched in the market."

Once Huoyan began talking about his work, he couldn't stop, a completely different person from before.

Ethan was very pleased; such a gun, in the right hands, could achieve two hundred percent of its potential power.

For instance, with Anya.

After rising to Crimson Attendant, Anya's proficiency with firearms grew stronger.

Just then, Anya walked in from outside, about to report something when Ethan tossed her the gun.

As soon as Anya caught it, she was immediately captivated by the gun's feel and unique design.

"Do you like it?"

"Mm." She instantly liked it.

"It's yours now, practice well."

"What's its name?" Anya couldn't put it down.

"Black Rose, let's call it Black Rose." Ethan looked at the black-clad hunter Anya holding the pitch-black sniper rifle.

For a moment, he wasn't sure if he was praising the person or the gun.

"Oh, right, sir, the reporters are here and waiting for you in the reception room." Anya suddenly remembered her purpose and quickly informed.

But she couldn't help but hold onto the Black Rose tightly.

"Got it. I'll head there first. Arrange a place for Huoyan and give him the weapon factory data."

With that, Ethan left his office.

The reception room was not far from his office, and upon entering, he saw today's interviewer.

It was a man.

This man wasn't sitting on the couch; he was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, seemingly observing the Bolita Clan's courtyard.

It wasn't until Ethan entered the room that he seemed to come to his senses. Turning around, he looked at Ethan and introduced himself calmly: "Mr. Ethan, hello, I'm Morgan, an independent journalist. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ethan smiled and extended his hand.

But he was actually concerned about one point, which was...

The eyes of this independent journalist named Morgan were very bright, almost eerily so.

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