“Since the logistics are prepped, let’s execute the launch sequence immediately.”

Sun Yi was even more impatient than Mo Wen. His internal task queue was overflowing: cultivate the Split Spirit Technique, initialize four new Dantians, and push for a system-wide version update to the next cultivation realm. He had a backlog of critical upgrades waiting at the Qingyun Sect.

“Sect Leader Sun, please follow me.” Mo Wen led the way, his attitude polite and professional.

They arrived at a private plaza behind the Seven Star Tower. Hovering silently above the stone tiles was a masterpiece of spiritual engineering.

It was a Flying Boat, over a hundred zhang long and ten wide, radiating a pressure that warped the air around it. It rivaled the flagship vessel of Patriarch Qingxuan. This was a Tier 4 asset—hardware typically reserved for Nascent Soul executives.

Unexpected, Sun Yi noted. Mo Wen is deploying flagship-level assets for a simple delivery run. This is a show of force.

Sun Yi glanced at the uniformed Seven Star Tower elites on the deck and smiled faintly. He didn’t mind the flex. In fact, the stronger his partners looked, the safer his encrypted data remained.

“Sect Leader Sun, after you.” Tower Master Mo gestured invitingly.

“Tower Master Mo, I insist. You first.” Sun Yi played the game, showing the requisite deference to the platform owner.

Once onboard, Sun Yi was shown to a luxury suite. The journey from the Red Fire Market to the Qingyun Sect wasn’t long, but even with a Golden Core pilot pushing the throttle, it would take two days.

Sun Yi locked the door and sat cross-legged. But instead of cultivating, his mind drifted to the dark data he had parsed recently—the experiences in the Soul Refining Valley and the intelligence on the Heavenly Saint Palace.

A cold, calculated dread settled over him.

Is the Tianyuan Continent actually ‘Tianyuan Island’? Is this entire realm just a closed server? A farm where the Demon Race breeds humans like livestock? And the Heavenly Saint Palace… are they just the automated enforcers? The collaborators running the slaughterhouse?

Sun Yi cross-referenced this hypothesis with the Qingyun Sect’s archives. There were massive corruption errors in the historical database. Nothing existed prior to ten thousand years ago. It was as if the server had been wiped and rebooted.

Furthermore, the map boundaries—East, West, North, South—were all designated as “Dead Zones.” Even Nascent Soul users who ventured there were deleted.

Then there was the “Ascension” protocol.

The Heavenly Saint Palace, the oldest and most powerful admin guild on the server, controlled the monopoly on breaking through the Nascent Soul stage. They claimed that once a user reached Soul Formation, the “Heavens” would guide them to a higher dimension.

Cultivators who “ascended” often sent back logs describing a paradise of dense Qi and infinite resources. But none of them ever returned.

It’s a trap, Sun Yi concluded, his eyes cold. The ‘Higher Dimension’ is the processing plant. The Heavenly Saint Palace is just fattening the cattle before loading them onto the truck.

Without the warning from that remnant soul, Sun Yi might have bought into the propaganda. But now, he saw the glitches in the matrix.

The Heavenly Saint Palace was a terrifying adversary. But if the theory held, the Demon Race—the true admins—were infinitely worse.

Knowing the truth doesn’t change my permissions, Sun Yi thought, clenching his fist. Without Admin-level strength, I’m just another unit of livestock waiting for the butcher. I need to upgrade. I need to turn the Qingyun Sect into a fortress.

He forced himself to focus on the Heavenly Soul Liquid schematic.

Suddenly, the ship lurched. The inertial dampeners groaned.

Sun Yi paused the simulation and expanded his Divine Sense. Status: Flight interrupted. Obstruction detected.

A group of cultivators from the Black Wind Stockade was blocking their vector. The leader was a familiar face: the Golden Core expert, Daoist Centipede. Behind him hovered dozens of Foundation Establishment mobs.

On the deck, Mo Wen and his two Deacons materialized at the bow. They looked down at the bandits with the icy disdain of corporate executives looking at street thugs.

“Since when does the Black Wind Stockade dare to throttle the bandwidth of the Seven Star Tower?” Mo Wen’s voice was amplified, rolling over the bandits like thunder. “You have a death wish?”

Mo Wen was only at the mid-Golden Core stage, technically a lower tier than Daoist Centipede. But he didn’t care. He represented a global conglomerate. Daoist Centipede was just a local warlord.

Daoist Centipede flinched, his arrogance deflating instantly. He quickly cupped his hands.

“Friends of the Seven Star Tower, there is a misunderstanding! We intercepted your esteemed alliance’s vessel only to verify some data packets. We are hunting a fugitive.”

He knew he couldn’t afford a war with the Seven Star Tower. That would be financial and physical suicide.

“Considering the Black Wind Stockade is a registered client, I will grant you two queries,” Mo Wen said, his tone bored. “Make them count.”

“Does the Seven Star Tower have any logs regarding the individual currently wanted by our Stockade?”

“Negative,” Mo Wen replied instantly.

Inside the cabin, Sun Yi smirked. Reliable partner. No data leaks.

Daoist Centipede frowned, clearly unsatisfied, but pressed on. “This vector leads towards the Qingyun Sect. May I ask your destination?”

Mo Wen looked at him as if he were a bug on a windshield.

“The Seven Star Tower’s routing protocols are none of your business. However, since I promised two answers: We are heading to the Qingyun Sect.”

Mo Wen paused, then waved his hand dismissively. “Query limit reached. Clear the lane.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He turned his back on the Golden Core expert, signaled the pilot, and the massive ship accelerated, blasting past the blockade.

Daoist Centipede stood in the wake of the engine exhaust, his face black with rage. But he didn’t move a muscle to stop them.

“Bastards! Damnable corporate dogs!”

He cursed vehemently. In the Chaos Demon Commandery, he was a local tyrant. Being ignored like this was humiliating. But attacking a Tier 4 Seven Star Tower vessel? That was a quick way to get his entire organization delisted.

“Elder,” a Foundation Establishment disciple whispered, stepping up nervously. “What now? Do you think the target is on that ship?”

Daoist Centipede glared at him. “It’s the Seven Star Tower! Even if the kid is sitting in the captain’s chair, what are you going to do? File a complaint?”

He whipped his sleeve, turning away. “Maintain the firewall around the Qingyun Sect. And upload a report to the Sect Leader immediately!”

Back on the ship, Sun Yi exited his cabin and joined Mo Wen in the lounge.

“My thanks, Tower Master Mo,” Sun Yi said, cupping his hands.

Mo Wen laughed warmly. “Sect Leader Sun, no need for formalities. We are strategic partners. Protecting your assets is part of the service package.”

“Hehe, rest assured,” Deacon Wei added, looking smug. “In the Chaos Demon Commandery, no one has the clearance to audit a Seven Star Tower vessel.”

“Indeed,” Sun Yi nodded, applying a light layer of flattery. “With Headquarters in the Heavenly Saint Commandery and branches across the continent, who would dare deny you face?”

The mood lightened significantly. Sun Yi used the opportunity to extract data about the Heavenly Saint Commandery, updating his internal map of the world.

Two days later, the ship began its descent.

Sun Yi stood on the deck, watching the familiar peaks of the Qingyun Sect draw closer. He let out a long breath.

Mission complete. Return to base.