When the mid-stage Foundation Establishment assassin struck, Sun Yi didn’t have time to analyze the situation. He felt the cold, visceral grasp of termination. The corporate veneer stripped away, leaving only the terrifying certainty of death.

The assassin’s face twisted into a triumphant sneer. He already had a cyan escape talisman in hand, ready to exfiltrate the moment the target was eliminated. With the Sect Leader dead and the Patriarch away, the Elders would be too paralyzed to pursue.

It was a solid plan. Unfortunately for him, Sun Yi had a golden parachute.

The jade pendant at Sun Yi’s waist shattered. It wasn’t just jewelry; it was an automated defense protocol.

A sword shadow erupted from the artifact, carrying the terrifying pressure of a Peak Golden Core strike. It was a localized natural disaster. The assassin’s sword light didn’t just break; it evaporated.

Before the spy could even register that his intel was obsolete, the sword Qi punched a head-sized hole through his chest. His soul was scattered instantly.

Sun Yi caught the falling corpse with a wave of True Qi. His heart hammered against his ribs, but his hands were steady as he reached into his storage bag. He pulled out a replacement jade pendant and clipped it to his belt.

“Redundancy, my friend,” Sun Yi muttered, shaking his head at the corpse. “Always have a backup.”

Patriarch Qingxuan knew his new CEO was a high-value target with zero combat specs. After the successful launch of the Spirit Plates, the Patriarch had endowed Sun Yi with three protective talismans—each containing a stored strike capable of obliterating anything below the Golden Core.

Whoosh. Whoosh.

The air screamed as five streaks of light descended. The Board of Elders arrived, their faces pale.

“Sect Leader!” Elder Ye Luo landed first, his hands hovering anxiously as he scanned Sun Yi for damage. “Status report! Are you injured?”

“I’m operational,” Sun Yi said, smoothing his robes. “Crisis averted.”

The other four Elders landed, their shock quickly morphing into apocalyptic rage. An assassination attempt inside the headquarters? It was a catastrophic failure of the Sect Protection Array.

“Who dares?” Elder Jin Jue roared, his killing intent spiking the local temperature. “To strike at the head of the sect within our own walls… this is a declaration of war!”

“It’s either Black Wind or Evil Spirit,” Sun Yi said calmly. “They realized we’re capturing the market. It’s a standard competitor response: if you can’t beat the product, kill the CEO.”

Elder Qin Chu snatched the corpse’s storage bag and the unspent escape talisman. “Tier-3 Swift Wind Talisman. Expensive. Definitely the work of a major power.” He rifled through the bag but found no identifying documents.

“Insolence!” Jin Jue slammed his fist into his palm. “We cannot let this slide. I’ll mobilize the Law Enforcement Hall. We’ll burn their satellite branches to the ground!”

“I’ll lead the strike team,” Elder Han Yun added, his eyes cold.

“Belay that order,” Sun Yi said sharply.

The Elders froze.

“We do not make emotional decisions,” Sun Yi lectured, stepping over the corpse. “The Chairman is out of the office. If we start a trade war now, we risk overextending our capital. Strategic patience is the key to longevity. A gentleman’s revenge can wait ten years—or at least until Q3.”

“We just swallow this insult?” Jin Jue asked, his jaw tight.

“We digest it,” Sun Yi corrected. “And we turn it into fuel. Here are your action items.”

He raised three fingers.

“One: Recall all field agents. Initiate a full lockdown of the Sect. We are going into stealth mode.”

“Two: Internal Audit. Every disciple recruited after our arrival in the Commandery is to be vetted. Implement a Whistleblower Policy immediately: 10,000 Points for any tip leading to the exposure of a spy.”

“Three: No slowdowns in R&D or training. We double down on resource allocation. If they want to kill me, it means they’re scared of our growth. So, we grow faster.”

“Dismissed.”

Sun Yi turned and flew toward the Scripture Library without looking back.

The news hit the sect communication channels like a bomb. The Sect Leader had been targeted.

The reaction was immediate and volatile. The disciples, fueled by the recent salary hikes and the promise of a bright future, were furious. An attack on Sun Yi was an attack on their future.

When the “Whistleblower Policy” dropped, the sect turned into a panopticon. Paranoia was incentivized. The spies hiding in the shadows found themselves surrounded by thousands of eyes hungry for that 10,000-point bonus.

The purge was swift. The internal audit identified the leaks, and Elder Jin Jue handled the “clean up” with grim efficiency.

Scripture Library – Executive Suite

Sun Yi sat alone on his meditation mat, tossing a spare sword talisman in his hand.

The adrenaline had faded, leaving a cold clarity. Today, he had survived because of the Patriarch’s charity. He was a CEO riding in a bulletproof car someone else had paid for.

“Outsourcing security is a vulnerability,” he murmured, gripping the talisman. “The tech is good, but the user is weak. I need to own the IP.”

He had planned to focus on administration and let the sect carry him. Today proved that was a naive business model. In this world, personal strength was the only equity that couldn’t be seized.

“Time to upgrade the hardware,” he decided. “Men must strengthen themselves.”

He pulled out the jade slip for the Five Elements Art. He was currently at Qi Refining Level 7, but he had neglected the combat software—the Five Elements Sword Art.

It was a notoriously complex skill tree. Most disciples spent years mastering just one element.

“Luo An!” Sun Yi shouted.

The young attendant scrambled in. “Sect Leader?”

“Get me a pot of Calming Tea. Then, pull every legacy file, user manual, and predecessor note on the Five Elements Sword Art from the archives. You’re working overtime.”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

Sun Yi downed the Calming Tea—a high-grade cognitive enhancer—and felt his mind sharpen. He opened the manuals, cross-referencing them with Luo An’s research.

Then, he did something that made Luo An wince.

He pulled out a Top-Grade Metal Spirit Stone.

In the cultivation world, this was a strategic reserve asset. It was worth a fortune, typically used for breaking through major bottlenecks or powering grand formations.

Sun Yi used it like a battery.

He gripped the stone and began to drain it, forcing the pure metal essence into his meridians to brute-force the mastery of the Metal Sword Art.

“Sect Leader…” Luo An watched the precious stone dim rapidly. “You’re burning through a Top-Grade stone for a basic technique? That’s… that’s a terrifying waste of heavenly resources!”

“It’s not waste, Luo An,” Sun Yi said, his eyes closed as sword Qi began to coalesce around his fingers. “It’s a high burn rate. I’m trading capital for velocity.”

Five days.

It took a genius a year to master the Metal Sword Art. Sun Yi did it in less than a week.

The cost was one Top-Grade Spirit Stone—enough wealth to buy a small town. To Luo An, he was a spendthrift prodigal. To Sun Yi, he was simply paying the premium for express delivery.

He opened his eyes, and a sharp, metallic glint flashed within them.

“Next element,” Sun Yi ordered. “Bring me the Wood attribute files.”