The silence in the Administrator's office was heavier than the gravity of a neutron star.
The three monks from the Thunder Sound Holy Land did not sit. They hovered three inches off the floor, their golden skin glowing with a soft, rhythmic light that seemed to repel the dust in the air. This was the Vajra Indestructible Body—a technique that made flesh harder than diamond.
The lead monk, Master Xuan, opened his eyes. They were devoid of pupils, filled instead with swirling golden light.
"Benefactor Jiang," Xuan said, his voice vibrating the water in the fish tank in the corner. "You speak of 'power plants' and 'efficiency.' These are mortal concerns. You have imprisoned a Nascent Soul Ancestor. You have stripped him of his Dao foundation. This is a violation of the Heavenly Principles."
"Which principle?" Jiang Chen asked, taking a sip of his coffee. "The one that says the strong eat the weak? Or the one that says energy belongs only to those who sit in caves for a hundred years?"
"The Natural Order," Xuan corrected. "Cultivators refine the essence of Heaven and Earth to ascend. By turning Ancestor Xue into... electricity... you have insulted the dignity of the path."
"Dignity," Jiang Chen mused. He tapped his desk. "Let me show you what you call 'Ascension.'"
He pressed a button. The blast shutters on the windows slid down, plunging the room into darkness.
"You seek the Dao," Jiang Chen's voice came from the dark. "You seek to become one with the universe. But have you ever seen the universe?"
"System. Activate the Stellarium."
The Tier 3 Holographic Projectors embedded in the ceiling and floor sprang to life.
The office vanished. The floor vanished.
Suddenly, the monks were floating in the void.
Master Xuan gasped, his levitation faltering for a split second. Around them, giant spheres of gas and fire rotated in the blackness. The sun burned with a blinding intensity in the center of the room.
"What... illusion array is this?" the second monk stammered, his golden aura flickering. "It feels... vast."
"It is not an illusion," Jiang Chen said, walking through the hologram of Jupiter. "It is a map. This is where we live. A speck of dust orbiting a ball of burning gas."
He waved his hand, and the view zoomed out. The solar system shrank to a dot. The Milky Way galaxy spiraled into view—billions of stars, billions of worlds.
"You call yourselves 'Immortals' because you live for a thousand years," Jiang Chen said, standing amidst the swirling nebula. "You think breaking a mountain makes you a god. But look at that."
He pointed to a Supernova exploding in the distance.
"That is a star dying. In one second, it releases more energy than every cultivator in the history of this planet combined. It creates iron, gold, and carbon. It creates you."
The monks were trembling. Their Dao Hearts—the unshakable conviction that they were the center of the universe—were cracking. They had spent their lives believing their mountain was the peak of existence. Jiang Chen just showed them they were ants on a pebble.
"You hoarded Qi," Jiang Chen continued, his voice relentless. "You sucked the land dry to polish your little Golden Cores. You think you are defying the heavens?"
He snapped his fingers. The hologram changed.
A diagram of two hydrogen atoms smashing together appeared, releasing a burst of energy.
"This is the sun," Jiang Chen said. "Fusion. It gives freely. It warms the earth. It grows the crops. It doesn't ask for worship. It just is."
He turned to Master Xuan, whose golden skin was fading to a dull, mortal flesh tone.
"You are not the sun, Master Xuan. You are a black hole. You take everything and give nothing back. Ancestor Xue is finally useful because for the first time in his life, he is giving energy back to the people."
Xuan fell to the floor. His levitation failed. He couldn't sustain the flow of Qi because his mind was paralyzed by the sheer, crushing scale of the cosmos he had just witnessed.
"We..." Xuan whispered, sweat dripping onto the carpet. "We are... small."
"Yes," Jiang Chen said, deactivating the hologram. The lights returned. The office was just an office again. "We are all small. That is why we build machines. To make us big."
The three monks sat on the floor, breathing hard, like men who had just drowned and been resuscitated. The arrogance was gone. The "Vajra Wrath" was extinguished by the cold shower of astrophysics.
Jiang Chen walked around the desk and offered a hand to Master Xuan.
"You can try to 'purify' me," Jiang Chen said softly. "But you can't unsee the stars."
Xuan looked at Jiang Chen's hand. He didn't take it. He stood up slowly, using his staff for support. He looked older. Frailer.
"Benefactor Jiang," Xuan said, his voice shaking. "You... you are a demon. Not of blood, but of truth. You have poisoned my mind."
"I just gave you a perspective update," Jiang Chen shrugged.
"We must... return," Xuan beckoned to his disciples. "We must meditate on this. The Abbot... the Abbot must know that the sky is deeper than we thought."
The monks backed out of the room, not floating, but walking. They stumbled slightly at the door, their coordination ruined by existential dread.
As the door closed, Old Wu exhaled from the corner where he had been hiding.
"Master," Wu whispered. "You defeated three Golden Core envoys with... a picture?"
"Ideas are viruses, Old Wu," Jiang Chen sat back down. "And I just infected the Holy Land with nihilism. They won't attack us for a while. They'll be too busy having an identity crisis."
He checked his wristpad. The Manhattan Project was flashing green.
[Enrichment Complete.][Warhead Assembly: Ready.]
"But ideas aren't enough for everyone," Jiang Chen muttered. "Some people need a louder argument."
The intercom buzzed. It was Chen Wei, the Spymaster.
"Administrator. Priority Alert. The Nether Sect."
"What about them?"
"The Eclipse Ritual. Our satellites detected a massive energy spike in the Western Wastelands. They aren't marching an army, Sir. They are... opening something."
"Opening what?"
"A Rift," Chen Wei's voice was tight. "To the Underworld. Spectro-analysis confirms... they are trying to summon a Ghost King. A physical manifestation of entropy."
Jiang Chen stood up. The monks were dealt with, but the Ancient Enemy was moving fast.
"A Ghost King?" Jiang Chen walked to the window. "Physical manifestation, you say? That means it has mass."
"Yes, Sir. Massive amounts."
"Good," Jiang Chen smiled grimly. "If it has mass, we can hit it."
He keyed the comms to the Engineering Bay.
"Han. Prep the V-2 Rocket. Remove the conventional warhead."
"Sir?"
"Load the Little Boy. We are going to test if a Ghost can survive nuclear fission."