“Look! The CEO is here!”

“It’s Sect Leader Sun! He actually showed up for an all-hands!”

“When the boss appears, big news follows.”

“Wow, his charisma stats are maxed out!”

Thousands of eyes locked onto Sun Yi as he ascended the platform. The previously depressed workforce instantly revitalized, their faces glowing with excitement. Some of the female disciples looked at him with stars in their eyes—Sun Yi wasn’t just their leader; he was a walking idol brand.

Sun Yi stood on the high platform, surveying the sea of fervent gazes. He smiled, channeling his best influencer persona, and waved.

“It’s been too long, family! I’ve missed you all. Did you miss me?”

The five Golden Core Elders behind him exchanged bewildered glances. This casual, overly intimate greeting was unheard of in the cultivation world. A Sect Leader should be majestic and distant, not asking if the disciples “missed him” like a lonely mortal.

Sun Yi ignored their confusion. If they had ever seen a top-tier livestreamer on Earth, they’d understand. This was how you built para-social relationships to empty wallets—or in this case, command loyalty. He was only using 30% of his power, but for these simple cultivators, it was devastatingly effective.

The square erupted.

“We missed you, Sect Leader!”

“Of course we did!”

Sun Yi nodded, his smile widening. “Good. I was worried you’d forgotten about me while I was in development hell.”

“Impossible!”

“You are our benefactor! We will never forget you!”

Sun Yi raised a hand, pressing down gently. The noise cut off instantly—a testament to his absolute authority.

“Recently,” Sun Yi began, his voice taking on a solemn tone, “our Qingyun Sect has seen incredible growth. Our quarterly reports are up, our average cultivation level is skyrocketing. But recent events… they hurt my heart.”

He paused for effect, letting the silence heavy.

“In the last two weeks, fifteen of our best employees attempted the Foundation Establishment upgrade. Ten paid the ultimate price—liquidation. Five were critically injured. This is a tragedy.”

“They were Low-Grade Spirit Root talents, yes. But to me? They were top-tier assets. They deserved to see the scenery of higher realms. But a simple lack of resources—a single pill—cut their journey short.”

He scanned the crowd, his gaze intense.

“I will be transparent with you. The sect cannot secure enough Foundation Establishment Pills for everyone. The upstream suppliers are choking us. Even if we offered double the market rate, they would refuse to sell. The supply chain is broken.”

The crowd gasped. Murmurs of panic spread like a virus.

“What? Even the sect can’t get them?”

“Then we’re doomed! Low-Grade talent is a death sentence without pills!”

“It’s over. What’s the point of cultivating if we just hit a wall?”

Seeing the despair take root, Sun Yi raised his voice, cutting through the gloom.

“Fellow Daoists! Employees! Like many of you, I am also running on Low-Grade hardware. Like you, even with the pill, my success rate is statistically negligible.”

He clenched his fist, raising it to the sky.

“This is the fate assigned to us ‘mediocre’ people. But I don’t believe in fate. Do you remember my Mission Statement?”

“Say it with me!”

Sun Yi’s aura exploded outward.

“MY FATE IS MINE, NOT THE HEAVENS!”

The crowd roared back, a tsunami of sound.

“MY FATE IS MINE, NOT THE HEAVENS!”

The disciples were whipped into a frenzy, their faces flushed with adrenaline. It was like a revival meeting mixed with a tech product launch. Even the Elders felt their blood pumping, swept up in the raw energy of the moment.

Sun Yi waited for the peak, then signaled for silence.

“I, Sun Yi, pledge this to you now: I will spare no effort to break this system. We will shatter the glass ceiling for every mediocre talent in this sect. Will you help me?”

“YES!”

“WE WILL FOLLOW THE SECT LEADER!”

“Whatever you command!”

Sun Yi looked at the fanatical faces below and sighed internally. Brand loyalty is terrifying.

“Good. To solve this bug, I need beta testers. I need eight disciples at Qi Refining Great Perfection. Four Low-Grade, two Mid-Grade, two High-Grade.”

“You will attempt the breakthrough under my direct supervision. Half will use Foundation Establishment Pills. Half will use… nothing. We will use a lottery system to ensure fairness.”

The crowd went silent for a beat. Attempting breakthrough without a pill was suicide for low-tier talents.

“I cannot guarantee success,” Sun Yi said honestly. “But I guarantee I will do everything to keep you alive. Even if you fail, the sect will provide a lifetime pension. We liquidate no one.”

“Who volunteers?”

“ME!”

“PICK ME, SECT LEADER!”

“I TRUST THE SECT LEADER!”

The square exploded with volunteers. People were shouting, shoving, begging to be chosen for what was essentially a life-threatening clinical trial.

The Elders were stunned. These disciples were offering their lives and cultivation futures just because Sun Yi asked.

Sun Yi smiled, masking his complex feelings. “Good! With employees like you, how can Qingyun Sect fail?”

He turned to Er Gouzi. “Vice-President, initiate the lottery protocol. Select eight brave souls.”

Soon, eight disciples stood on the high platform, beaming with pride as if they had won a prize, not a chance to be a guinea pig.

Sun Yi looked at them, his expression serious. Time to debug reality.