In the Free Fire headquarters, the chatter slowly subsided after a few tense minutes. All decisions had been made.
Fory Li took the microphone in his hand, voice steady but carrying the weight of the moment.
"Everyone who has decided to leave, please go to the reception counter. You will be well compensated for your service until now."
He watched as more than 35% of the people stood up quietly and began filing out—some with hurried steps, others with reluctant glances back at their colleagues. Fory Li felt no anger. These were their choices. They had come to earn money, and they could earn it elsewhere. They simply didn't want to be isolated from the outside world, from their routines, from everything familiar. He understood.
The Ether Clone was not surprised. He had already known many would leave. His divine sense had scanned their thoughts long before the announcement—hesitation, fear of the unknown, attachments to normal life. It was expected.
Once the departing employees had cleared the hall, the Ether Clone stepped forward again, voice calm and carrying effortlessly to every remaining person.
"You who have decided to stay do not need to worry. You will not regret your decision. Now go and prepare your families. We will be leaving in two days. I will send my people to take you to the new headquarters."
Saying this, he began to move toward the exit.
He paused briefly and said to Fory Li, "You also go and prepare. I am now transporting all the machines and other things here."
But Fory Li stopped him, voice polite yet urgent.
"Sir, there are many important documents and things here. Should I help you? And where are the vehicles and manpower to take all these papers and machines? Should I call someone?"
The Ether Clone turned slightly, mask hiding any expression.
"Don't worry about it. I know which is important and which is not. And as for vehicles or manpower—don't worry. It's not going to take much time."
Saying this, he and Umang walked out front.
Fory Li watched them go, then turned to prepare his own family for the journey. In his mind, one thought kept circling:
It looks like the new owner really has some of his people inside the company. Otherwise, how would he know about the important things and documents?
The hall emptied slowly. The remaining employees dispersed—some rushing to call families, others quietly packing personal items from their desks, faces a mix of excitement, nervousness, and resolve.
On the other hand, after everyone had left the company, the headquarters fell into a dead silence. Only Umang and the Ether Clone remained, standing amid the empty desks and darkened screens. The air felt heavier now, stripped of voices, footsteps, and the low hum of daily life.
Umang glanced around the deserted lobby, then turned to the Ether Clone.
"Sir Heart, are you going to use your powers to transport these things? But it will make them suspicious. So should I call Sir Mordan to send someone?"
The Ether Clone smiled faintly beneath his mask, a subtle curve that carried reassurance without words.
"Don't worry. No one will be suspicious of me—a Cultivator. They will only suspect that there is a new technology in play. You don't have to worry much."
It wasn't that he had ignored the possibility of someone linking the disappearance to cultivators. He had considered it deeply. That was why he was certain.
He had developed the habit of always using his Divine Sage profession to peer into future outcomes. It wasn't cowardice or fear of the unknown. It was simple pragmatism. He knew there were beings out there—watching him. He had no clue who they were, or how many. So he pried into the future whenever possible, reducing uncertainties and dangers to the minimum.
Now he had calculated it. Every single action branched into countless threads. He had chosen the best and fastest outcome, the one with the least risk.
It was like a bright light piercing darkness. The light was the action itself. The threads spreading outward were the karmic outcomes—each one illuminated, weighed, and measured.
In the chosen path, people would guess many things. Some would blame new technology. Some would whisper about alien involvement. Some would point to natural phenomena. Others would mention magic energy. And yes—some would briefly think of cultivators. But the thought would cross their minds and be discarded almost immediately.
They would reason: The strongest known cultivator is Xinxuan. He's not powerful enough for this. Even if hidden cultivators exist, they're low-level. Teleporting an entire company? Impossible for them.
The possibility that a cultivator was involved—and specifically tied to the new owner of Free Fire's parent company—was low. Very low. And even if a whisper of it surfaced, he could suppress it instantly.
If he had chosen to involve India openly? That would have painted a target. India would become the center of attention. The connection between the country and the new owner would be exposed. Risky. Slower. Unnecessary.
This way was cleaner. Faster. Safer.