Sun Yi stood on the podium, watching the crowd. The reaction was good—fear mixed with gratitude—but he needed more. He needed absolute brand loyalty. He needed them to internalize the corporate culture so deeply they’d work overtime without asking.

He raised a hand. The plaza fell silent instantly.

“Next item on the agenda,” Sun Yi announced, his voice amplified across the square. “We are dissolving the caste system. Effective immediately, the distinctions between Inner, Outer, and Miscellaneous Disciples are abolished. All employees are now simply ‘Disciples of Qingyun.’ Equal status. Equal opportunity.”

The silence shattered.

“What?” an Inner Disciple shouted, scandalized. “I’m in the top percentile! I shouldn’t be grouped with the cleaning staff!”

“This is ridiculous!” another yelled. “Why isn’t the Board stopping this?”

But the Miscellaneous Disciples—the invisible majority—were ecstatic.

“Did you hear that? We’re equal!” “The Sect Leader is a visionary!” “Finally, a CEO who cares about the little guy!”

For centuries, they had been the ‘ants,’ the disposable labor. Sun Yi had just handed them a ladder to the executive suite.

Sun Yi let the noise wash over him. He knew the Inner Disciples would complain. They were legacy hires used to coasting on privilege. They were about to learn what a meritocracy felt like.

“Quiet,” Sun Yi commanded. The noise died down.

“However,” he continued, dropping the other shoe. “I am also cancelling the Universal Basic Income. The monthly allowance of spirit stones is hereby terminated. No more free handouts.”

The plaza exploded again, this time in universal outrage.

“You can’t do that!” “How are we supposed to cultivate?” “This is theft!” “Resign! Resign!”

Even the Miscellaneous Disciples looked betrayed. Their meager allowance was the only thing keeping them alive.

Sun Yi smiled, waiting for the peak of the anger. Classic loss aversion, he thought. Now, pivot to the gain.

“I cancelled the allowance,” Sun Yi shouted over the noise, “because it’s a pittance! A starvation wage designed to keep you weak!”

He leaned forward, projecting intense charisma.

“In the new system, you will earn Points. And unlike the old allowance, there is no cap. If you work hard, if you complete projects, you can earn five times, ten times, even a hundred times your old salary!”

Confusion rippled through the crowd.

“We are moving to a performance-based compensation model,” Sun Yi explained. “Every resource in the sect—pills, techniques, weapons—is now purchasable with Points. And to kickstart this new economy…”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“As a signing bonus for the new administration, I am depositing 100 Points into every disciple’s account, effective immediately. One Point equals one Spirit Stone.”

The crowd froze.

100 Spirit Stones. For a Miscellaneous Disciple, that was five years of salary. A windfall. A winning lottery ticket falling from the sky.

“Long live the Sect Leader!” “100 Points! I’m rich!” “Sun Yi is the greatest leader in history!”

The outrage vanished, replaced by fanatical cheering.

Behind him, the five Golden Core Elders winced. 4,200 disciples times 100 stones… over 400,000 Spirit Stones. It was a massive burn rate. But they stayed silent. They had given Sun Yi the checkbook; now they had to watch him spend it.

Sun Yi wasn’t done. He had bought their love; now he needed to buy their ambition.

“We are also restructuring the org chart,” Sun Yi announced. “The current middle management is bloated and inefficient. I am firing all current administrators.”

He pointed to the terrified managers standing near the stage.

“All positions are now open. Deputy Hall Masters. Team Leads. Project Managers. Anyone can apply.”

He spread his arms.

“I don’t care about your cultivation level. I don’t care about your family background. I care about competence. If you are a Qi Refining level 1 disciple but you have a mind for logistics, you can run a department. Just like me.”

The crowd went wild. The “ants” were rolling up their sleeves, eyes burning with ambition. This wasn’t just a job anymore; it was a career path.

“The hiring process starts now,” Sun Yi declared. “You have two hours to prepare. I will release the aptitude test at noon. The exams will be graded blindly by the Board. Fair. Transparent. Meritocratic.”

“If you want to change your destiny,” Sun Yi said, his voice ringing with conviction, “this is your chance. Don’t waste it.”