The citizens of Water Source City had suffered minor Qi depletion from the blood extraction, but due to Sun Yi’s swift intervention, the formation hadn’t run long enough to cause permanent damage.

From the intercepted communications of the deceased Black Wind disciples, Sun Yi confirmed that the enemy had mobilized a full-scale manhunt.

Threat Level: Critical.

Sun Yi knew he couldn’t afford any more exposure. The Black Wind Stockade would likely dispatch a forensic team to Water Source City to investigate the anomaly.

He needed to disappear.

A quarter of an hour later, Sun Yi landed in a secluded valley. Using his Earth-attribute techniques, he excavated a temporary safehouse deep within the rock face and sealed the entrance.

Once secure, Sun Yi began the loot audit. He dumped the contents of the stolen storage bags onto the floor.

The yield was underwhelming.

Low-grade Spirit Stones. Generic pills. Mass-produced talismans.

Compared to the Qingyun Sect’s treasury—which he had raided legally as CEO—this was garage sale junk. If he were still a lowly disciple, this haul would have been a windfall. But now? It was barely worth the inventory space.

However, the intellectual property was a different story.

Sun Yi spent two days analyzing the Black Wind Stockade’s proprietary manuals. He discovered they were experts in hematology—blood refinement. The leader, Mo, had a technique for purifying blood essence that was surprisingly sophisticated.

Interesting, Sun Yi mused. If I adapt this algorithm for refining demon beast blood instead of humans, the utility value skyrockets.

He also found a copy of his own wanted poster. It featured a sketch of his disguised face and an accurate assessment of his cultivation level.

Bounty: High.

“They really spared no expense,” Sun Yi muttered, impressed by their capital expenditure. “But this confirms my route is compromised.”

The messages in Mo’s communication jade indicated that trap protocols had been activated all around the Qingyun Sect. Returning now would be walking into a kill box.

He needed to lay low and find an alternative route.

Two days later, Sun Yi changed his disguise again and flew east. according to Mo’s map, there was a neutral trading hub nearby—the Red Fire Market.

En route, he was intercepted.

Five streaks of light blocked his path. Four men, one woman. Three Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment, two Early-Stage. A formidable patrol.

Sun Yi stopped immediately, adopting a submissive posture. “Junior Fang Qing pays respects to the Seniors. How may I assist you?”

One of the cultivators produced a transparent orb—a biometric scanner. He swept a beam of light over Sun Yi.

Sun Yi held his breath, ready to detonate his remaining Rank 2 Talismans if the jig was up.

The orb remained inert.

“Negative match. Let’s move,” the leader said, dismissing Sun Yi without a second glance.

The patrol flew off.

Sun Yi exhaled slowly. “Close one.”

He encountered several more checkpoints along the way. Most were routine scans, but one group of aggressive rogue cultivators tried to shake him down.

Sun Yi simply flashed a Black Wind Stockade manual and dropped a vague hint about his “Senior” in the sect. The rogues, terrified of the local hegemon, apologized profusely and fled.

Brand power, Sun Yi noted. Useful.

Finally, he arrived at the Red Fire Market.

Built atop a crimson mountain, the market was a small city protected by a defensive array. It sat on a low-grade Spirit Vein, but the traffic was high. Cultivators swarmed the entrance like shoppers on Black Friday.

Sun Yi landed and joined the queue.

Entry wasn’t free. The toll was steep—ten Spirit Stones per day.

“First time?” the gatekeeper, an Early-Stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, asked boredly.

“Yes, Senior,” Sun Yi replied politely. “Any rules I should know?”

“No fighting. No property damage. No refunds. How long are you staying?”

“Five days.”

“That’ll be sixty Spirit Stones.”

Sun Yi blinked. “The sign says fifty.”

The gatekeeper glared at him. “I’ve been wasting my breath explaining the rules to you. That’s a consulting fee. Pay up or get lost.”

Sun Yi stared at the man.

I, the CEO of a major sect, am being shaken down for ten stones by a door guard?

He almost gave the man a thumbs-up for his entrepreneurial spirit.

Suppressing the urge to slap the guard into the next fiscal quarter, Sun Yi paid the sixty stones.

“Scram,” the guard grunted, waving him through.

Sun Yi entered the market, his expression placid.

Just wait until I acquire this market, he thought. You’re fired.

Inside, the Red Fire Market was bustling. Broad streets were lined with shops selling pills, artifacts, and materials. It felt like a pedestrian mall on Earth.

Sun Yi browsed the shops, but his excitement quickly faded. The inventory was mid-tier at best. Nothing here could help him with his current bottleneck.

He was at Qi Refining Great Perfection. His body was reinforced. His True Qi was capped. The only thing missing was the Split Spirit Technique to upgrade his software—his soul.

But cultivating that technique required a secure environment and specific materials. He couldn’t do it in a hotel room.

I need a workspace, Sun Yi realized. And maybe a new revenue stream while I wait for the heat to die down.