“Is my spiritual sense failing me?” The Foundation Establishment guardian on the left leaned closer to the surveillance formation, eyes wide. “Did the Sect Leader just execute the Wind Thunder Step?”

“Confirmed,” the senior guardian, Zhang Shuang, nodded slowly, his face a mask of shock. “And his mastery is deeper than mine. That is not the movement of a beginner.”

“Impossible,” the guardian on the right argued, shaking his head. “His cultivation is strictly Qi Refining. The Wind Thunder Step requires a Foundation Establishment physique to execute. It’s a violation of the Dao of Martial Arts.”

“I tried meditating on that scripture from the Library six months ago,” the first guardian muttered. “I couldn’t even grasp the basics. How did he bypass the cultivation requirements?”

Zhang Shuang remained silent, watching the projection. He was a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator—the only one in the room who had successfully learned the technique—but Sun Yi’s execution was cleaner, faster. It defied all known logic.

On the screen, Sun Yi was a blur of violence.

He engaged the Wind Thunder Step, blitzing through the demon horde like a guided missile. The Dragon Roar Sword orbited him as a golden satellite, executing automated slash commands that decapitated beasts with surgical precision.

Between the mobility hack and the Golden Sword Art, Sun Yi’s DPS (Damage Per Second) was off the charts. Forty beasts were deleted in under a minute.

However, the energy consumption was massive.

Warning: Battery Low.

Sun Yi felt his True Qi reserves plummeting. The Wind Thunder Step was a gas-guzzler.

“Switching to manual,” Sun Yi decided.

He recalled the sword and engaged in close-quarters combat.

Thud. Crunch.

His fists, hardened by the body refining upgrades, met the silver wolves and armored rhinos head-on. Claws raked across his robes, but his skin held firm. Each punch from Sun Yi, however, resulted in catastrophic structural failure for the beasts.

The control room staff watched in reverence.

“He’s not just a manager,” one whispered. “He’s a War God.”

“I don’t think any Foundation Establishment disciple could handle this density of beasts.”

“We called him a mediator… but he’s a one-in-ten-thousand genius,” Zhang Shuang said, his voice filled with awe. “That’s why he sits on the throne.”

On the battlefield, Sun Yi delivered a final, thunderous cross to a silver wolf’s skull.

“Terminate.”

Boom. The wolf shattered.

Silence fell over the virtual plain. Sun Yi stood alone, breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his brow. His muscles ached—phantom feedback from the simulation—and his stamina bar was flashing red.

“Level 100 cleared,” he panted.

The environment dissolved. Sun Yi was back in the sterile white room of the 100th floor.

The door hissed open, and the three guardians rushed in, bowing low.

“Congratulations on the victory, Sect Leader!”

Sun Yi straightened his robes, switching back to his corporate persona. “You three are the Tower Guardians?”

“Yes, Sect Leader,” Zhang Shuang stepped forward. “I am Zhang Shuang. These are my juniors, Li Hao and Wang Xiao.”

“How are the working conditions?” Sun Yi asked, ever the HR-conscious leader.

“Optimal,” Zhang Shuang replied quickly. “Observing the Sect Leader’s combat data helps us verify our own Dao.”

“Good mindset,” Sun Yi nodded approvingly. “Always look for upskilling opportunities. This tower isn’t just a product for the users; it’s a learning platform for the staff.”

“Yes, Sect Leader.”

“Now,” Sun Yi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t come down here just to congratulate me. What’s the agenda?”

The three exchanged nervous glances. Finally, Zhang Shuang cleared his throat.

“Sect Leader… we saw the projection. You were using the Wind Thunder Step. We… we would like to beg for guidance.”

“You have the manual?”

“We do,” Zhang Shuang admitted, looking embarrassed. “Since you opened the library, everyone obtained it. It’s the best mobility art available. But the difficulty is immense. I’ve barely mastered the basics, and Li Hao and Wang Xiao haven’t even sensed the Qi flow after six months.”

Sun Yi smiled. It was a classic user error. They were trying to run high-end software on standard hardware without the necessary drivers.

“I can give you the patch,” Sun Yi said, lowering his voice. “But this is Proprietary Knowledge. A trade secret. It stays in this room. If this leaks before I’m ready for a wide release, there will be consequences.”

The three nodded frantically.

“I swear on my Dao Heart!” “The Heavens may strike me down if I speak!” “Absolute silence!”

“It’s actually a hardware bypass,” Sun Yi explained. “You need to ingest wind and thunder attribute Demon Cores. Don’t metabolize them for energy. Use them as a temporary signal booster to resonate with the ambient elemental Qi.”

“Ingest… the cores?” Zhang Shuang blinked. “Raw?”

“That’s it?” Li Hao asked, stunned. “Just brute-force the connection?”

“The solution is simple; the cost is the barrier to entry,” Sun Yi noted. “Those cores are expensive. It’s a Pay-to-Win strategy. Zhang Shuang, even though you have the skill, this method will overclock your learning speed.”

“However,” Sun Yi added a warning tone, “the supply chain is limited. If every disciple starts eating cores, we’ll exhaust the market. That’s why this is restricted to senior staff for now.”

“Understood!” Zhang Shuang bowed deeply, his respect for the Sect Leader hitting new heights. “Your wisdom illuminates the path.”

“Carry on,” Sun Yi said, walking past them. “I have a corporation to run.”