Three levels beneath Skyline Tower.
No light existed here—only wall-mounted talismans flickering like ghostfire. The air hung thick enough to choke on, as if they'd walked into some massive beast's stomach.
"Time flow's wrong." Lyra Vane's mechanical eye whirred frantically, gears grinding with tooth-aching friction. "My internal clock's running half a second slow. There's a temporal black hole down here."
Ethan Cross pushed the heavy rosewood coffin with his remaining left hand, the wood scraping against metal flooring with ear-splitting shrieks.
He stopped before a two-foot-thick titanium door.
No keyhole—just complex trigram patterns flowing with cold light. Kunlun Sect's "Dragon Severing Gate," supposedly nuke-proof and impenetrable to even Nascent Soul cultivators.
"Brute force?" Lyra raised her broken blade, her core engine beginning to overload with thunderous rumbling. "I'll shut down after the explosion."
"Save your battery." Ethan stopped her, adjusting his glasses.
Data streams cascaded across the lenses like waterfalls.
**[TARGET: KUNLUN DRAGON SEVERING GATE]**
**[LIFESPAN: 3,000 YEARS]**
**[METHOD: FORCED TRANSACTION]**
"If it's a door, it should open eventually."
Ethan pressed his translucent right hand against the cold metal, like a sleazy salesman peddling death insurance. "System, negotiate with it. I'll trade its future fate of becoming scrap metal for its present state of 'wide open.'"
**[TRANSACTION ASSESSMENT: INANIMATE OBJECTS CANNOT REFUSE.]**
**[FORCED EXECUTION: ENTROPY ACCELERATION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.]**
**Hiss—CRACK!**
Metal screamed in agony.
The pristine titanium door visibly erupted in rust spots. Corrosion spread like plague as the intricate trigram patterns crumbled and flaked away within three seconds.
Three thousand years of weathering, compressed into an instant.
"No lock."
Ethan raised his left hand and pushed gently.
**CRASH!**
The supposedly indestructible Dragon Severing Gate crumbled like stale cookies. Through the swirling rust dust, Ethan stepped inside.
At the vault's center sat no gold or cash—just a floating six-foot egg.
Golden veins pulsed frantically across its translucent amber shell. With each beat, space rippled outward, making Ethan's countdown display flicker wildly.
**[ITEM: PRIMORDIAL DRAGON EMBRYO (STOLEN GOODS)]**
**[VALUE: 500 YEARS (CURRENT) / ∞ (POST-HATCHING)]**
"Tsk, these Kunlun bastards play dirty." Ethan licked his lips, greed burning greener than a starving wolf's eyes. "Stealing from the East Sea Dragon Palace? Planning to make an 'artificial god'?"
Lyra instinctively stepped back, her body trembling. "It's calling for help."
"No, it's breathing." Ethan corrected her.
He could see liquid seeping from the shell's cracks—not fluid, but time energy thick as molten gold. This thing devoured surrounding lifespans with every second of existence.
A perfect "temporal battery."
"Open the coffin." Ethan patted the rosewood casket behind him.
Lyra flipped the lid with one hand.
Without any reverence, Ethan kicked the egg's base like he was testing a watermelon at market. "Get in there. Underworld express—no overweight fees."
"The radiation's too strong. We can't move it." Lyra warned.
"That's why I brought this coffin." Ethan pointed to the blood-red curse marks covering the interior walls. "Zhao Tianhao's custom 'Yin Gathering Casket'—perfect insulation. Professional grade."
Together, they forced the heavy dragon egg into the coffin.
Perfect fit.
**Click.**
The lid sealed shut, instantly swallowing the room's golden radiance in darkness.
Ethan pulled out his black ledger and stamped a red "CONFISCATED" seal on the [Kunlun Smuggling Case] page, his grin stretching ear to ear.
"Let's go." He grabbed the rope again, his phantom hand maintaining elegant posture despite being unable to grip anything solid. "Time to tell the folks upstairs that this shipment's been seized by Underworld Customs."
***
Skyline Tower rooftop.
Dozens of armed helicopters carved the post-storm night sky into fragments. Searchlight beams wove a deadly net, locking down every exit.
**"Drop your weapons! Surrender immediately!"**
Amplified voices shook the standing water.
At the roof's edge, a blue-robed elder hovered on a flying sword. Kunlun Sect outer disciple executor, Zhao Wuji. Behind him, thirty black-clad disciples formed a killing formation, cold light gleaming.
"Young man." Zhao Wuji's gaze was venomous, fixed on the coffin behind Ethan. "You killed my junior brother, crashed my longevity banquet, and now you want to steal our sect's guardian beast?"
Ethan dragged the coffin from the shadows.
His soaked black funeral suit clung to his body, the empty right sleeve flapping wildly in the wind. He adjusted his glasses with his remaining left hand, tone casual as small talk. "Old man, get your eyes checked if they're that bad. According to Underworld Import-Export Regulations, this is clearly contraband."
He planted one foot on the coffin lid with a hollow **thunk**.
"Now lawfully confiscated as evidence. What, you planning to resist arrest?"
"Sharp tongue!" Zhao Wuji snorted coldly, his sword humming beneath his feet. "Disciples, listen up! Blast him to pieces!"
**Hum—!**
Thirty disciples formed hand seals simultaneously. Hundreds of ice spikes materialized from thin air, shrieking through the atmosphere straight at Ethan's forehead!
Lyra launched herself forward, broken blade raised to tank the saturated assault.
"Relax, save your strength."
Ethan pressed Lyra's shoulder, pulling her back behind him. He tilted his head, using his mouth to pull out a soggy cigarette and lean toward Lyra's sparking cybernetic eye.
**Sizzle.**
The tobacco ignited. He took a deep drag, exhaling smoke that scattered instantly in the rotor wash.
"Fair warning before you attack." Ethan tapped the coffin lid with piano-light rhythm. "This casket's seal isn't great. Bit of a... leak."
Before the words finished, he kicked the lid slightly ajar!
**WHOOSH—!**
Pure golden torrent erupted from the gap, instantly sweeping half the rooftop.
Not light.
High-concentration compressed "temporal radiation."
The five black-clad men in front didn't even have time to scream before their bodies convulsed violently in the golden glow. Tight skin withered like dehydrated apples, black hair turning snow-white and sparse in an eyeblink.
One second. Two seconds.
"My... my hands!"
"My spiritual energy?! Where did it go?!"
Five strong men became five tottering ancients, their artifacts clattering to the ground as time drained even their strength to stand.
Deathly silence.
The helicopters above jerked their controls, climbing fifty meters in terror.
"Oops, told you the quality was questionable." Ethan kicked the lid shut tight, looking completely innocent. "This thing's basically a temporal reactor. Get too close, age too fast."
He looked up through the rain at Zhao Wuji's ashen face, mouth curving into a maniacal grin.
"Executor Zhao, how many seconds can those old bones of yours handle? Five seconds? Three?"
Ethan made as if to kick the lid again.
"STOP—!"
Zhao Wuji nearly lost control of his sword in terror. He cultivated for immortality, not suicide!
This wasn't robbery—this was extortion with a nuclear bomb!
"Since you know how dangerous it is, get lost." Ethan bit down on his cigarette, grabbing the rope one-handed and dragging the explosive temporal bomb straight toward the terrified crowd.
Wherever he passed, the Taoists scattered like he carried plague.
Nobody dared gamble their lives on "a few seconds."
At the roof's edge, Ethan stopped and glanced back at the cold-sweating Zhao Wuji.
"Go tell your sect master. If he wants this egg back, bring a 51% Kunlun Sect share transfer agreement to Pawnshop No. 13 personally."
He leaped off the hundred-meter building, coffin and all.
"Underworld business—no credit."
***
Wind howled past his ears like knives.
"Maniac! There's an overpass below!" Lyra tried grabbing Ethan mid-air.
"Don't need to."
Ethan flipped in the air, his nonexistent right hand clawing at empty space.
**[SYSTEM ASSESSMENT: TRANSACTION COMPLETE]**
**[PAYMENT: 1 YEAR DRAGON ESSENCE OVERFLOW]**
**[PURCHASE: LOCAL GRAVITY EXEMPTION]**
**Thump.**
No splattering death. Ethan and the coffin landed like feathers on a speeding garbage truck, only denting the roof slightly.
Ten minutes later.
Old district, a dead-end alley that didn't exist on any map.
A broken oil lamp illuminated the weathered wooden sign: **[PAWNSHOP NO. 13]**.
Ethan jumped off the garbage truck and dragged the coffin through the door.
The moment he entered, he collapsed into the master's chair, his forced composure crumbling instantly.
**Sizzle sizzle sizzle...**
His body began pixelating massively, spreading from fingertips to chest like a signal-lost TV screen. The three-thousand-year karmic debt backlash had reached its limit.
Behind the counter, a fat black fox gnawing fried chicken dropped its drumstick in shock.
"Ethan the Skinflint?! You're not dead yet?" Raven's eyes went wide. "I was about to list your shop on eBay!"
"Planning a coup? Try next lifetime." Ethan gasped, pale as paper, his countdown showing only five minutes remaining.
**[00:00:04:59]**
"Boss!" Lyra tried supporting him, but her hand passed straight through his shoulder, grasping nothing.
"Don't panic." Ethan's eyes burned with frightening intensity—a gambler's madness before going all-in. "Raven, lock the door. Lyra, drag that egg out."
"What are you planning?" Lyra stared at the priceless dragon egg.
"Eat it."
Ethan's voice was hoarse but carried unquestionable ruthlessness. "If I don't eat it, I'll disappear right now. Only its temporal density can fill the three-thousand-year hole in my accounts."
"But it's a primordial dragon god..." Raven trembled. "Eating it will bring divine punishment!"
"Divine punishment my ass—I AM divine punishment now!"
Ethan gripped the table edge with his remaining left hand, preventing himself from dissolving. "Lyra, do it! Treat it like medicine and force-feed me!"
Lyra gritted her teeth and plunged her broken blade into the dragon egg!
**ROAR—!**
A mournful, furious dragon's cry exploded through the cramped shop.
Golden liquid gushed out—not fluid, but liquefied life essence. Ethan opened his mouth as the golden torrent seemed magnetically drawn into his nose and throat.
This wasn't eating.
This was theft.
**[WARNING: HIGH-ENERGY REACTION!]**
**[CREDITING: 500 YEARS... 1,000 YEARS...]**
Ethan bathed in golden light as his completely vanished right hand slowly regrew flesh and bone from nothingness. His skin became full again, the pixelation forcibly repaired.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away atop Kunlun Mountain.
A thousand-year-old bell in the ancestral shrine crumbled to powder without warning.
Ethan opened his eyes. Deep in his pupils, a golden dragon shadow roared in fury before being brutally suppressed by a black ledger's phantom.
He wiped golden liquid from his lips, adjusted his glasses, and burped.
"Bit bland."
Ethan looked at the terrified Raven and Lyra, flashing teeth white as bone. "Next time, remember the soy sauce."