The disciples recognized him instantly—the clothing, the style, the calm aura—even with the mask, there was no doubt.
Xinxuan was the first to react.
He bowed his head lightly and spoke with deep respect.
"Master."
The other disciples followed immediately, bowing in unison.
"Master."
Their families, however, stood frozen in place, confused and uncertain.
The disciples had not yet told their families about Heart Clone or the full details of their recruitment—so to the parents, siblings, and spouses, this masked figure was a complete stranger.
Mordan noticed the disciples' immediate reaction and the families' bewilderment.
Now he understood clearly: Sir Heart had recruited these people to make them his disciples.
A thought flickered through his mind—excitement mixed with calculation.
So Sir Heart is training them personally.
Does that mean… he could also train my people? Or even me?
The possibility thrilled him—if Sir Heart guided him personally, he could cultivate, become truly powerful, and secure India's future beyond imagination.
But he quickly hid the thought.
He knew Sir Heart wouldn't give anything for free.
These disciples had been specially selected—geniuses like Xinxuan.
Since he and his people had not been chosen, it meant they lacked the necessary talent.
If he wanted training from Sir Heart, he would have to offer something valuable in return—just like their previous deal.
Mordan steadied his mind, then turned and gave a deep, respectful salute.
"Sir Heart."
The Heart Clone responded with a simple nod to everyone present.
Then he addressed Mordan in a calm, measured voice.
"Well done. Our deal is now complete. Now I am taking them with me."
Mordan nodded respectfully.
"Yes, Sir. Do you need any other service?"
The Heart Clone shook his head gently.
"No need. Now—bye."
With those words, he raised one hand.
In an instant, all the disciples and their families vanished—pulled gently into his palm, shrunk and contained within a spatial fold, safe and unharmed.
Mordan stared at the empty garden in complete speechlessness.
Umang stood beside him, equally stunned, whispering in awe.
"Amazing…"
The two bodyguards, however, were now unconscious on the ground—the Heart Clone had quietly rendered them asleep during the moment he came.
Just as he prepared to leave, the Heart Clone tossed something small toward Mordan.
"This is your bonus."
Mordan reacted quickly, catching the items in his open palm.
The Heart Clone vanished without another word.
Umang hurried over, eyes wide.
"Sir, what did Sir Heart give you?"
Mordan opened his hand.
Two objects rested there: a small clay bottle sealed with wax, and a single folded page that looked completely ordinary.
He opened the clay bottle first.
A rich, fragrant aroma wafted out—fresh, invigorating, like spring rain mixed with mountain herbs.
Just the scent alone made him feel alive, energized, younger.
He looked inside and saw several small, perfectly round pills glowing faintly with inner light.
Mordan and Umang shouted in unison, stunned.
"Pills!"
They had read enough novels to recognize what these were—legendary cultivation pills.
But what did they do?
They didn't know yet.
Even so, this was already an enormous opportunity.
Umang spoke quickly.
"Sir, we don't know the effect. We should test it first—carefully."
Mordan nodded, then turned to the folded page.
He unfolded it slowly.
Written in neat script were detailed instructions—a complete recipe for a special potion.
The potion could help anyone practicing basic breathing techniques strengthen their body and meridians much faster, accelerating their early cultivation progress dramatically.
At the bottom, a note explained the pills in the bottle: they were revitalization pills, capable of restoring a mortal body to peak condition, making it younger, healthier, and somewhat stronger.
Mordan stared at the items in his hand, voice filled with awe.
"This bonus… is really a godsend…"
Umang could only nod, speechless.
Mordan took one pill from the bottle—there were ten in total—and swallowed it without hesitation.
He handed another to Umang.
The moment the pill entered their bodies, vitality surged through them like a warm tide.
They felt years fall away—muscles firmer, minds clearer, energy abundant as though they had returned to the prime of youth, and even stronger than before.
Mordan exhaled slowly, feeling the power settle into his bones.
Umang flexed his hands, grinning despite himself.
They looked at each other, then at the empty garden where the disciples had stood only seconds ago.
The future had just become far brighter—and far more dangerous—than either of them had imagined.