[Mending Heaven Station · The Lonely Isle on the Ink Sea]
Thud! Thud!
Two battered figures tumbled out of the void, crashing in front of Elder Mo's desk.
Yin Wuwang looked like he'd been dragged through a warzone—which, technically, he had. His hair stood up in a singed explosion, smoke still curling from the ends. He coughed out a mouthful of black soot.
Xie Qingyan wasn't much better. His robes were in tatters, his face deathly pale, his expression that of a man who had seen too much and wished to unsee all of it.
Elder Mo set down his teacup with deliberate calm. Then he produced an abacus.
Clack!
"One S-Class mecha. Fifteen hundred points."
The two men stared blankly at the golden beads being flicked back and forth. Mecha? Points? What were those?
Clack clack!
"Imperial defense line collapsed. Three thousand five hundred points."
Clack clack clack!
"World core damaged. Five thousand points."
Elder Mo raised his hooded eyes, revealing a benevolent smile. "Congratulations, you two. Ten minutes out the door, and you already owe me ten thousand points."
"Ten thousand?!" Yin Wuwang shot to his feet. "Old man, you're dreaming! When did this sovereign ever owe you anything!"
Any sentence with "owe" in it meant bad news. He was the supreme Demon Sovereign! Other people owed him!
Elder Mo remained unperturbed. One finger traced a lazy arc through the air.
A flash of golden light.
Yin Wuwang felt a burning sensation on his forehead. He looked down at his hand—
A golden character for "DEBT" had been branded onto the back of his palm.
Xie Qingyan had one too.
Yin Wuwang's eyes turned red with fury. "You—! When did you do this?!"
"When you agreed to work here."
Elder Mo blew gently on his tea, looking supremely pleased with himself.
"I told you—these are the rules here. Don't like it? Fine. Don't pay."
He took a leisurely sip, glanced at them over the rim of his cup, then set it down with a sharp clunk.
"BUT! Your original world is currently collapsing. That ABO world you just visited? Nearly exploded because of you. Don't want to work for me? That's your choice. You can wait around and turn to dust together with everything else."
Xie Qingyan's expression could have frozen steel. "You dare threaten me?"
Elder Mo smiled. "No. This is business."
The two exchanged glances. In each other's eyes, they saw the same mixture of rage and helplessness.
There was no other choice.
"How do we repay it?" Xie Qingyan asked.
"Simple."
Elder Mo waved his hand. A scroll materialized in the air before them.
"Travel to other worlds. Complete missions. Earn points. Finish nine worlds' worth of missions, and you'll have enough to repair the ABO Interstellar world you wrecked—plus save your own dying world."
Yin Wuwang frowned, deeply reluctant. "Nine? How long will that take?"
"Well, that depends on your abilities. Fast workers might finish in a few months. Slow ones..." Elder Mo paused, counting on his fingers. "I've had people working here for three hundred years who still haven't paid off their debt."
Yin Wuwang's mouth twitched. Three hundred years? Was this old fossil trying to scare him?
Elder Mo's tone shifted, a calculating gleam entering his eyes. "Of course, with premium artifacts, everything becomes much easier." He pointed to a line of glittering gold text on the scroll. "I mentioned this before—the premium artifact spirit 'Tianji.' Highest grade under heaven. With it, world knowledge downloads directly into your mind. Language barriers? Instant immersive translation. Incoming danger? Early warning alerts. Nothing will be beyond your grasp."
Xie Qingyan listened with a blank expression, completely unmoved. Knowledge downloading? Was that some kind of technique? It sounded like a Buddhist cultivation method.
Elder Mo shot a meaningful glance at Yin Wuwang. "Embarrassing incidents like mistaking heat cycles for poison, or treating mechas like cultivation puppets? They'll never happen again."
Xie Qingyan's brow furrowed into a tight knot upon learning that his earlier condition had been a "heat cycle" rather than poisoning.
Yin Wuwang's face darkened. So that was why his blood hadn't worked—it wasn't an aphrodisiac at all! And that iron lump really wasn't a puppet? He recalled the scene of himself performing a blood-bonding ritual on the mecha and blowing it up. His expression grew even more murderous.
"How many spirit stones?" he asked warily.
"Not expensive at all." Elder Mo smiled like an old fox. "Just ten million high-grade spirit stones."
"TEN MILLION?!"
Yin Wuwang nearly choked on air.
That was everything he had on him! Sure, his treasury back in the Demon Palace held several times that amount—but what good was that? According to this old man, his world was sealed off. Until he completed these missions, he couldn't go back. These ten million stones were literally all he could access.
"Old man! Why don't you just rob me outright?!"
"Rob you?" Elder Mo raised an eyebrow. "That mecha you just blew up? Manufacturing cost: fifteen million low-grade spirit stones. My artifact spirit is a bargain in comparison. And you think it's expensive?"
Yin Wuwang choked.
That hunk of scrap metal was worth fifteen million spirit stones?!
Xie Qingyan turned to look at him. "Are you going to buy it?"
Yin Wuwang clenched his fists so hard his knuckles went white.
Ten million high-grade spirit stones.
That number echoed in his mind like a death knell.
Three thousand years ago, he had been a child who escaped the Demon Palace, forced to hide wherever he could—a half-blood demon that neither the righteous sects nor the demonic clans would accept. He had survived on scraps stolen from garbage heaps, slept in caves that flooded when it rained. He remembered hunger. He remembered cold. He remembered being trampled underfoot by cultivators. Only Fuguang had ever shown him kindness.
He had sworn an oath: never again.
Never again would he be powerless. Never again would he be poor.
Every spirit stone he had saved over all these years represented his security in a world where the strong devoured the weak. His proof that he had become someone, despite everything.
And yes—he had secretly calculated. If someday, by some miracle, he could stand beside Fuguang as an equal... as a partner... he would ensure Fuguang never wanted for anything.
That had been the plan, anyway.
But now...
[End of V1_Chapter 05]
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Ancient court intrigue. Yin Wuwang's eyes light up—he's lived three thousand years! What power struggle hasn't he seen? But Xie Qingyan frowns: "Are you certain about not buying that upgrade?"