"What? Th-this many?!"
Seeing Li Pan crawl out of the passage, ten blood hands sprouting from his body, each clutching a sealed monster, looking like a feathered serpent with wings, Duan Kecheng was utterly dumbfounded.
Li Pan said, "I've already cleared out all the treasures I could find. Want to head down yourself and check again?"
The blood infant calculated with his fingers, then shook his head:
"No need. The fortune of this cave-dwelling has already been exhausted.
Truly worthy of being my elder brother! I thought this place might hide calamity, but by following you, ill turned to auspicious.
With a flick of your hand you overcame the Tribulation of Slaughter, condensed a divine pill, shattered the barrier, seized treasures as if plucking fruit. You are indeed the supreme lord of our Sacred Sect!
My admiration for you is like a boundless river…"
"All right, all right, no need for such flattery."
Li Pan glanced around.
"I must have been down there a long while. It's nearly dawn. We weren't discovered, were we? Anyone come?"
Duan patted his chest:
"Rest easy, elder brother. I already laid formations and prohibitions to conceal the heavens' design. Not even gods or ghosts will know—utterly foolproof!"
"Oh, really." Li Pan turned toward the security camera in the corner of the generator room. "And the surveillance records—erased?"
Duan blinked. "What chicken? What deer?"
Sigh… no way to talk sense with these primitives…
"Give me a moment. I'll smash the backup drives."
Though Sacred Sect techniques seemed to disrupt old security cameras, Li Pan still believed in caution. He flickered away, phasing through the wall into the monitoring room, and with one palm strike blew the server to pieces.
"E-elder brother," Duan followed after him, suddenly fidgeting, "to be honest, the reason I asked you here was… well, these artifacts…"
"Oh, you want them?"
Li Pan understood at once. He simply tossed the bizarre "monsters" into Duan's arms. "All yours."
Duan was aghast: "What?! Impossible! These are your fortunes—at least choose a few first!"
Li Pan rolled his eyes.
What a joke. Sure, he'd gained a level, but those cursed things would only bring him trouble. No way he'd keep them.
Do the dirty work, take the blame, while the so-called leader lounges with crossed legs? Not happening.
With righteous solemnity, he refused:
"Brother! What words are these? A drop of favor must be repaid in torrents! You just passed me the Blood-Shadow Divine Movement; compared to that, these external trifles aren't worth mentioning.
Take them! Don't be polite! My belongings are yours. If you don't accept them, you insult me!"
Duan was shaken to the core. Perhaps it was his first time meeting such a true brother. Overcome with emotion, he prostrated himself:
"Ahhh—Elder brother—you truly are my elder brother!"
Li Pan scratched his head, unsure what expression to wear, so he just went along:
"Of course, little brother—and you are my little brother!"
"Brother!!"
"Little brother!!"
"Broooother!!"
"Broooother!!"
"Bro—"
Seeing it would never end, Li Pan quickly stopped him:
"All right, three kowtows is enough. If there's nothing else, I've got work to get back to."
Smiling, Duan stuffed the monsters into his stomach one by one:
"Elder brother, rest assured, leave it to me. They said the guardian of this realm was mighty, and to only seize one or two pieces. But you took them all!
When I sell these and trade for celestial materials and cultivation resources, half will surely go to you!"
Li Pan raised a brow. "They? You don't plan to use them yourself?"
Duan chuckled:
"These can't refine pills or forge tools. Swallowed, they just burn my insides—what use have I?
I only just arrived in this realm with no funds. Since those Outer Abyss Demons pointed out the location, I simply collected them."
Li Pan narrowed his eyes.
"Outer Abyss Demons? You mean the ACA Collectors? Belia, the one who helped you be reborn? They have more agents here?"
Duan nodded:
"Indeed. The Abyssal faction and our Sacred Sect are allies.
You know, in these multiversal worlds, our cultivators—too strong cannot cross without reincarnation; too weak, and they're useless when they arrive.
To breach a realm, we need local monsters to receive us.
For smuggling goods, they suffice; but an army cannot come through. They fear betrayal and won't let our forces march through their Abyssal homeworld.
And this realm's qi is thin, mortals' roots weak—most useless trash. To break this realm's Dao and summon our army requires resources this world lacks.
So first, we buy good 'livestock' to herd. With these artifacts, we can trade for a thousand head or more.
But the Abyss can only be reached when the moon appears. Tomorrow night, let's go together and buy sheep."
"Tomorrow night? Uh, how about in two days?"
He remembered—Nana's concert was tomorrow.
Duan agreed easily:
"Ah, elder brother wishes to stabilize his cultivation and condense his blood core? No problem. Conquering the multiverse is no rush. In three days I'll come find you for the moon rite."
Right—he still needed to condense a core. He'd passed the tribulation and almost forgot the main thing.
The Nine Yin Sutra isn't a human method; the body-tempering stages differ. But in the Taishang Daozang, human cultivators at a certain stage all condense a core.
Taishang calls it Golden Core, the Sacred Sect calls it Divine Core. Same idea: qi condensed into a nucleus.
It stores energy so you can draw upon it in battle instead of collapsing powerless.
Having farmed plenty of "himself," Li Pan now had qi to spare. He used Blood-Shadow Divine Movement to return to the garage, put on his skin, lay in his coffin, and let the body form the core on its own.
Good. Li "Red," you're now a Refine-Qi-Into-Spirit cultivator. Your own core—you condense it yourself.
Switching back to his main body, Li Pan opened his eyes, clenched fists, tested bones, circulated his dantian, compared himself to his avatar.
And sank into depression.
Ah… how weak. Like a crawfish…
Unbelievable. Li Qingyun, Li "Black Earth," fine. But even Li "Red Blood" levels faster than him, Li Pan?!
Heaven… what a useless body.
Dejected, he went to the office, casually dialed:
"Hey, Eighteen, anything last night?"
Eighteen: "Boss, you're such a nag! I told you I'd make it back, didn't I?"
So, no incidents.
In theory, if an entire warehouse was looted, the company would be on high alert. At least the landline should ring.
But after waiting, silence. Dialing his own 001 briefing line, everything was normal up through Ashiya Shigui's last mission reports—no mention of clone bodies being shredded.
He kept picking up and putting down the phone.
He couldn't exactly call HQ and ask if they'd noticed the theft. That'd be walking into the noose.
In the end, he told Eighteen:
"We're at war with the Collectors. Don't just play stocks—notify me of anything urgent. Also…
What about the 007s? They should've cleared customs by now. Even on the elevator, two hours max from orbit. Why no reports? Still stuck above?"
Eighteen: "I'll ask the other Eighteens… Oh, last night they went to the Taiping District to investigate the wreckage site. They're in their morning meeting."
Li Pan was outraged. "What?! They arrive without telling me, hold a morning meeting without me?! I'm not only directly involved, I'm the general manager! Where's the respect? Damn it!"
Eighteen: "Uh… should I apply for you to attend?"
Li Pan fumed: "Screw that! If they don't call me, I won't go! Block their numbers! I won't answer! Meetings, bah! They hold one, I'll hold one! By the way, where's everyone? At work or not? Where's A-Qi? Rama?"
Eighteen: "Uh, boss… they used full-time staff privileges to lock the company. All the temps were notified: paid vacation, no need to come. A-Qi's off learning barista skills, Rama's teaching at the church school. You only got in because you're acting manager."
Li Pan fell silent.
So the theft wasn't exposed? No, or a dreadnought would already be in his face.
It was pure office politics—the price of killing temp worker 111.
Ha. And he thought everyone at the company was as nice as 01044 and 0113. Turns out there are plenty of bastards.
Fine. He'd bled for the company, taken bullets for the company, and respected 001. All for 2,500 a month.
But if these "celestials" scorned him, shut him out, tried to kick him aside… then no more courtesy.
This position? Whoever wants it can have it! He's done!
Decision final—no turning back: paid vacation self-declared. Off to do freelance work!
Go! Snatch the Holy Grail!
With Li "Red" this strong, core condensed—even a prince wouldn't stop him. Stealing the Grail was reduced to: if one punch isn't enough, two will be.
That's the beauty of sheer force overwhelming ten thousand arts. What once required forty-man raids wiping all night, now with higher level you solo farm mounts on cooldown. Brutal.
With the heist essentially complete, the next problem: fencing the goods.
It's not that he "half trusts" Emilia. He doesn't trust her at all.
Two trillion credits! What if she runs?
Like she herself said: she's been in 0791 for a century, with a professional team. Vampires are money pros—even K has an L to manage assets. If Emilia schemed to pocket the whole two trillion—kick Li Pan out or go straight to the 007s—who could he complain to?
Worse, if she dumps the money on the black market, buys a body, reincarnates off-world… how would he catch her?
Thinking it through, laundering was the real risk. Before, dazzled by the money, he only imagined spending it. Now, clear-headed, he had to face it.
Counterplan: run to the bank and open an account.
Not a vampire bank—an institution under the Tax Bureau.
Yes, the name misleads—sounds like a civic tax office of the people…
What are you thinking? This is a world of corporate oligarchs! Wake up!
In truth, the "Tax Bureau" is a private bank.
Yes: one—the First Reserve Bank.
After the wars with the Legions, the Corporate Union was bankrupt.
Civilization collapsed: production destroyed, colonies lost, tech regressed, trade cut, markets crashed, debts defaulted, order broken—apocalypse.
Real winners: the bankers and magnates who financed it.
The fighters—win or lose—were broke and deep in debt.
With what to repay loans or reparations?
The bankers convened, coordinated with surviving companies, and on the ruins of government built the Debt Committee—precursor to the Security Committee—and cofounded the First Reserve Bank.
From then on, all monetary policy and issuance fell under the First Reserve Bank.
Every world, every Earth, every company mortgaged as collateral, borrowing against future taxes to restart finance.
Meaning: everyone born from then on already owes the bank.
Every tax you pay is interest on that original sin.
Debt must be repaid. Clear as day.
The First Reserve only prints and regulates macro supply; it doesn't handle personal accounts. It funds local banks like Temperance Party Bank or Hashiba Finance. It's the "bank of banks," "bank of corporations."
Beneath it, the enforcement arm—the so-called Tax Bureau—became the strongest new power.
By rule, each world integrated into multiversal trade must have a local Reserve Bank.
For instance, Reserve Bank 0791—first Takamagahara, then shares shifted to Night Corporation, co-owned with First Reserve.
Local reps join the Reserve Committee, reporting and executing policy.
And under them, the likes of Construction Bank, Commercial Bank, Agricultural Bank, Industrial Bank… serving local corporations. Not individuals. They're regulatory, stabilizing exchange and interest rates.
With the worst case in mind, Li Pan went to open an account under the Reserve Bank umbrella.
If Emilia's laundering failed, he could just wire money straight into the "Tax Bureau's" own banks, paying taxes honestly.
Even at max penalty, Reserve Bank taxation couldn't exceed 50%. Half a trillion in hand is better than losing it all.
Under his Panlong Construction GM title, he went to the 0791 Construction Bank to open an account and request credit.
Watching how Night Corporation did things, he knew: without connections, you can't even get the forms.
But he only needed an account. On paper, Panlong Construction was a "billion-credit company." With leverage, he asked for a 100-billion transaction ceiling.
Denied. Panlong was under three months old; the cap was 10 billion, subject to audit. Only after a year could limits be raised.
Still, 10 billion is money…
As a small operator, no floor manager greeted him. He queued and filled forms half the day to open a sad little account.
But he did bump into an "acquaintance."
Not close, but the old man from the Scientific Ethics Committee who'd once saved his life in the Tower of Night.
He'd taken Li Pan's advice and moved his real body to Europa, now linking a BRW-M body to work, here to get a credit card for his prosthetic.
They recognized each other, exchanged greetings and business cards.
Minutes later, a floor manager rushed over, practically bowing, ushering the old man to the VIP lounge with red wine.
Ah, society…
Li Pan glanced at the e-card:
Dr. Nimitz, member of the SEC (Scientific Ethics Committee), professor at Neo-Tokyo University's School of Automation, director of the Nimitz Institute of Intelligence.
Hmph… SEC…
Within the Security Committee, after the bankers of the First Reserve, the SEC was the second strongest bloc.
Its members are top scholars. Even if Dr. Nimitz "just" seemed like a professor with an institute, he wasn't like grunt laborers such as Li Pan.
To be an honorary SEC member means holding countless high-tech patents, shares in top companies, drawing dividends, and voting rights to rate technologies.
In plain terms: they decide if a new tech is Level 6 or 5, civil, military, or banned, how much tax, at what price. Their standard is sky-high.
And his BRW-M body alone was worth more than four 007s combined…
The wealthy…
But why would such a bigwig linger in a backwater dump like 0791? And with war risks? Bored, slumming for "experience"?
Forget it. Window number's called…
.
.
.
⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
💥 High-voltage cyberpunk. Urban warfare. AI paranoia.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
🔗 patreon.com/DrManhattanEN