Sun Yi sat on a massive boulder atop the cliffs of Green Wood Peak, staring blankly at the churning sea of clouds. He looked like a man who had just reviewed his quarterly earnings and found them deeply in the red.

Three days ago, his soul had executed a hostile takeover of this body.

He had crossed over from Earth, merging with a cultivator of the same name who had suffered a fatal Qi deviation. Initially, the acquisition seemed promising. He expected the standard transmigrator benefits: a top-tier “System,” a legendary Spirit Root, or perhaps a grandfather spirit in a ring to act as a senior consultant. He was ready to crush the competition and scale his power to the moon.

Reality, however, had handed him a bankrupt subsidiary.

After three days of due diligence, Sun Yi realized he was an embarrassment to the transmigrator demographic. No system. No cheat codes. No mysterious background capital.

His new vessel was the definition of a non-performing asset.

In this world, talent was dictated by Spirit Roots. The market was segmented strictly: Low, Mid, High, and Top Grade. The Qingyun Sect, currently facing a liquidity crisis of manpower after a major calamity, had lowered its hiring standards. That was the only reason a Low Grade prospect like him had made the cut.

Sun Yi possessed Metal, Wood, and Fire roots—a diversified portfolio, but all of junk-bond quality.

At twenty-one years old, he was stuck at the third level of Qi Refining. In the corporate hierarchy of the sect, he was a glorified intern. Unnoticed. Undervalued. His only purpose was to be ground down by manual labor, effectively working a 996 schedule with zero overtime pay.

Based on his projections, his career trajectory pointed toward a quiet death in middle management—if he was lucky.

But Sun Yi refused to liquidate. On Earth, he had survived decades of mortgage rates, car loans, and predatory consumer debt. He wasn’t going to let a little thing like “lack of talent” bankrupt him now.

The question was: How do we restructure?

Leaving the Qingyun Sect to freelance in the Chaos Demon Commandery was suicide. The region was a volatile market filled with wandering cultivators and feral beasts. With a combat power of five, he would be delisted immediately.

That left internal growth.

He scrolled through his memories, searching for an edge. Suddenly, a lightbulb flickered on. The Myriad Demon Forest to the west.

It was a blue ocean market. The environment there masked the signatures of demon beasts, rendering the Divine Sense of high-level cultivators useless. It was a no-go zone for the competition, despite being rich in resources.

Divine Sense is just biological sonar, Sun Yi analyzed. If the interference is too high, the signal fails.

But what if he introduced a technological disruption?

A radar.

Back on Earth, Sun Yi had been an engineer. A “handicraft expert.” Building a primitive detection array wasn’t magic; it was physics. The cultivation world had artifact refiners—specialized manufacturers who could process materials far better than any Earth factory. If he could combine his IP with their manufacturing, he could build a device to map the forest.

He could strip-mine the resources while the competition was blind.

The problem was capital. He was a broke intern. He lacked the R&D budget, the raw materials, and the access to a skilled refiner. The idea was solid, but the execution cost was prohibitive.

Sun Yi rubbed his temples. Great concept, zero runway.

DONG. DONG. DONG.

Three resonant bell tolls rolled out from the main peak, echoing across the sect. A massive corporate announcement. Usually, these all-hands meetings had nothing to do with low-level staff, but the urgency was palpable.

“Old Sun! You’re hiding here burning company time again?”

A skinny youth in worn-out grey robes scrambled up the path, panting. It was Er Gouzi, a fellow grunt from the medicinal garden department. Same low aptitude, same third-level Qi Refining salary bracket.

“What’s the panic, Gouzi?” Sun Yi asked, sliding off the rock. “I finished my KPIs for the day.”

“Forget the work! Manager Wang is going to fire us if we’re late!” Er Gouzi grabbed his arm. “Didn’t you hear the bell?”

“I’m not deaf. What’s the agenda?”

“The Patriarch is ending his sabbatical!” Er Gouzi whispered frantically as he dragged Sun Yi toward the trail. “Word is, he’s coming out of seclusion the day after tomorrow to appoint a new Sect Leader.”

Sun Yi paused. A leadership shakeup?

It made sense. The Qingyun Sect had been operating without a CEO for twenty years. The Patriarch, their only Nascent Soul investor, had been recovering from injuries, leaving the daily operations to a board of five Golden Core Elders.

“The Board is finally appointing a CEO?” Sun Yi mused.

“Exactly,” Er Gouzi panted. “The five Elders are all fighting for the spot. Whoever gets it… man, that’s it. Ascending to heaven in a single step. Ultimate tenure. Unlimited resources. I’m so jealous I could puke.”

Ascending to heaven in a single step.

The phrase hit Sun Yi like a margin call. He froze, his eyes widening.

“Wait,” Sun Yi muttered, a manic grin spreading across his face. “If I became the Sect Leader… I’d control the budget. I’d have unrestricted access to the supply chain. The radar project? Fully funded. Top-tier cultivation manuals? Company perks. Resources? Unlimited expense account.”

He looked at Er Gouzi. “And you know what they say: When a man achieves the Dao, his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven. If I’m the CEO, you get a corner office, Gouzi.”

Smack!

Er Gouzi slapped the back of Sun Yi’s head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sun Yi glared.

“I’m rebooting your brain!” Er Gouzi rolled his eyes. “You’re hallucinating. You want to be the Sect Leader? Have you looked in a mirror? And I’m not a chicken or a dog! If anyone is ascending, I’m doing it myself!”

Er Gouzi didn’t stop. “You are a Level 3 Qi Refining ant. You think you can compete with the Golden Core executives? That’s not ambition; that’s courting death. There has never been an intern-level Sect Leader in the history of the industry!”

“The Nascent Soul Patriarch is the majority shareholder, right?” Sun Yi rubbed his jaw, undeterred. “I heard he’s a rational actor. Not the type to liquidate staff for no reason. It’s his decision.”

“And?”

“And who put a clause in the bylaws saying a Qi Refining disciple can’t apply?” Sun Yi straightened his robes. “If there’s an opening, why shouldn’t I submit my resume?”

“You actually want to die?” Er Gouzi looked ready to slap him again but sighed instead. “Look, just keep your mouth shut. If the management hears you talking like this, I can’t save you.”

Er Gouzi turned and marched down the path.

Sun Yi hurried after him, his stride lengthening with newfound purpose. “Gouzi, listen to me. A man without a vision is just a salted fish. If the Patriarch is a rational stakeholder, I just need to identify his pain points. If I can offer a value proposition that solves his core problems, I can close the deal.”

“Stop,” Er Gouzi groaned without looking back. “Learn the difference between a dream and a delusion. You won’t even get past the secretary to see the Patriarch.”

Delusion?

Sun Yi smiled. Ten minutes ago, his startup capital was zero. Now, he saw a path to a hostile takeover.

He needed to conduct immediate market research. He needed dossiers on the Patriarch and the five Golden Core Elders—personality profiles, weaknesses, and desires.

If the Patriarch was a chaotic-evil tyrant who killed on a whim, Sun Yi would abort the mission. He was ambitious, not suicidal. But if there was a sliver of logic to the man…

Sun Yi was about to launch the most insane corporate restructure the cultivation world had ever seen. A Level 3 Qi Refining disciple running for CEO.

“Wealth is found in risk,” Sun Yi whispered to himself, his eyes gleaming with the light of a man betting the house. “You have to leverage the bicycle to get the motorcycle.”

He wasn’t going to take the traditional path. The natives of this world didn’t understand the Earthling wisdom of using four ounces to move a thousand pounds.

It was time to prepare his pitch deck.