Sun Yi watched the confusion ripple across the Chairman’s face and offered a calm, corporate smile.

“The latency exists because my hardware isn’t fully compatible,” Sun Yi explained, adopting the tone of a CTO briefing a non-technical board member. “I can currently access the Wind driver, but the Thunder module is offline. The protocol is incomplete.”

Patriarch Qingxuan stared at him, eyes wide. “You are not even at Foundation Establishment, yet you can sense wind-attribute Spiritual Qi? This defies all cultivation logic.”

A thought struck the Patriarch. He recalled the terrifying quantity of Wind Demon Cores Sun Yi had been popping like breath mints earlier.

“The cores,” Qingxuan whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “You forced an artificial resonance by ingesting raw demon cores?”

Sun Yi nodded. “You mentioned that my operating system—my realm—was insufficient to run the Wind Thunder Step natively. You said I lacked the necessary permissions to access the elemental Qi between heaven and earth.”

He paced slightly, hands clasped behind his back.

“So, I pivoted. If I couldn’t access the network naturally, I needed a workaround. I recalled a legacy document in the archives stating that ingesting attribute-specific cores creates a temporary, artificial affinity. It’s essentially a brute-force hack to establish a connection.”

“I tested the hypothesis with the wind cores. The results confirmed the theory. I can now run a beta version of the technique. Once I integrate the thunder data, the software will be stable.”

“Incredible…” Qingxuan breathed out, visibly shaken. As a Nascent Soul powerhouse, he had spent centuries following orthodox procedures. The idea of brute-forcing cultivation barriers with resource dumping was unheard of.

“If this logic holds,” the Patriarch said, his gaze intensifying, “does this mean we can teach the Wind Thunder Step—a Foundation Establishment technique—to mere Qi Refining disciples? As long as we provide the cores?”

“Theoretically, the scalability is viable,” Sun Yi confirmed.

“Good. Very good.” Qingxuan’s shock replaced with the calculation of a sect leader. “Sun Yi, this method is now a trade secret. Top level classification. We will use this to develop our High-Potential Talent pipeline.”

“However,” the Patriarch added, frowning, “our supply chain is the bottleneck. Wind and thunder cores are scarce assets. We cannot roll this out to the general workforce.”

“Understood. We limit access to key personnel,” Sun Yi agreed. “Rest assured, I know how to manage intellectual property.”

Qingxuan smiled, relieved. He had worried about the burn rate—Sun Yi had consumed a fortune in cores—but seeing the results, he wrote it off as necessary R&D expenditure. The treasury was open for a reason.

“Now, regarding the logistics,” Qingxuan shifted gears. “I am departing for the Heavenly Saint Commandery immediately. Is there anything else you need added to the procurement list?”

Sun Yi ran a mental diagnostic of the geopolitical landscape he had scraped from the sect’s database.

The Tianyuan Continent was a segmented market. The Heavenly Saint Commandery was the Central Business District—the Silicon Valley of the world—where the unicorns and major conglomerates resided. The Northern, Eastern, and Myriad Spirit Commanderies were the surrounding suburbs, decent but secondary.

The Chaos Demon Commandery, where the Qingyun Sect currently rotted, was an emerging market at best, a desolate wasteland at worst, separated from the economic hub by a massive mountain range.

Sun Yi considered his current project needs.

“Since you are visiting the central hub, we should leverage the exchange rate,” Sun Yi advised. “Liquidate our niche assets for high-liquidity resources. I need high-grade Spirit Stones and, more importantly, a body refining manual.”

“Body refining?”

“My hardware is lagging behind my software,” Sun Yi said bluntly. “I need a chassis upgrade. Please prioritize this.”

“Done,” Qingxuan promised. “I will acquire a top-tier body refining method.”

“Furthermore,” Sun Yi continued, ticking points off on his fingers, “we need to stock up on commodity-level resources. Essence Fruits, Qi Gathering Pills, Tempering Spirit Pills. We are rebuilding the Miscellaneous Arts Hall, but our internal production capacity is still offline.”

“After we execute the hostile takeover of the Black Wind Stockade and Evil Spirit Valley, we will be launching a massive recruitment drive. We need a competitive benefits package to attract talent. We can’t offer equity yet, so we need to offer immediate perks.”

Qingxuan nodded slowly. He didn’t understand all the terms, but the vision was clear. Sun Yi was planning for growth, not just survival.

“I will secure the bulk supplies,” Qingxuan agreed.

“One final item,” Sun Yi added. “Source some ancient documentation regarding the soul. I need to research backend architecture.”

The Patriarch didn’t ask why. He simply nodded.

“I will be going ‘closed-door’ for the public record,” Qingxuan said, standing up. “My itinerary is confidential. No one from the rival firms—the Stockade or the Valley—will know I’ve left.”

“Safe travels, Chairman. And remember,” Sun Yi said, “maintain a low profile.”

“Feet on the ground,” Qingxuan recited the old adage, looking at Sun Yi with paternal pride. “Do not act recklessly while I am gone. The corporation relies on you.”

Once the Patriarch departed, Sun Yi returned to the R&D lab—his cultivation chamber.

He sat cross-legged and retrieved a handful of Thunder Demon Cores. He didn’t hesitate. He swallowed them, initiating the upload process.

System Alert: External energy source detected. Beginning integration.

Sensing the Thunder Qi was significantly faster than the Wind Qi. Sun Yi suspected the Thunder Spirit Grass he had processed earlier had already installed the necessary drivers.

Snap.

His eyes flew open. The connection was live.

Sun Yi channeled his True Qi and engaged the Wind Thunder Step.

Whoosh.

He vanished.

He reappeared twenty meters away, the air crackling with residual electricity. The latency was gone. The speed had quadrupled.

“Optimization complete,” Sun Yi muttered, inspecting his hands. “Version 1.0 is stable.”

He was a Qi Refining cultivator moving at speeds that would embarrass a Foundation Establishment expert. It was a massive competitive advantage.

However, the feedback loop was immediate. A dull ache throbbed through his muscles.

“Hardware overheating,” he diagnosed.

Despite the Blood Spirit Fruit and Thunder Spirit Grass upgrades, his physical body was struggling to handle the g-forces and energy output of the technique. It was like putting a Ferrari engine inside a beat-up sedan; push it too hard, and the frame would snap.

“And the power consumption is unsustainable,” he noted, checking his internal reserves.

The Wind Thunder Step was a resource hog. His single Dantian, even at Great Perfection, was draining too fast. He needed a secondary power supply.

His gaze shifted to the Storage Ring, where the corpse of the Mi Luo Beast sat in cold storage.

“The dual-core project,” Sun Yi mused. “I need to figure out how to graft that beast’s dantian into my system.”

That was a project for later. First, he needed benchmarks. He needed to know exactly where he stood in the current market hierarchy.

Sun Yi stood up, dusting off his robes. It was time for a stress test.

He transformed into a streak of light, heading straight for the Battle Tower.