The frost on the mahogany table was not water ice; it was a dry, violet rime that smelled faintly of ozone and old snow.
Director Vahl struggled to lift his feet. The leather soles of his Italian loafers had fused with the carpet, the building's smart-grid energy howling through his Silicon Core like a short-circuiting engine. The green sparks jumping from his wrists were turning gray, dying the moment they touched the cold air.
"What... what kind of malware is this?" Vahl spat, his breath plume hanging thick and purple in the boardroom air. He jammed his thumb into his smartwatch, trying to force a distress signal through to the Solar Conglomerate's main server. "Lin Hao! Your brother is using unauthorized military-grade signal blockers! This is a breach of the Imperial Commerce Act!"
Lin Hao didn't answer. He was staring at the digital tablet in front of Lin Wei. The text wasn't changing back to the corporate real estate deeds. It was scrolling, faster and faster, a river of ancient, geometric characters that the 3-Star Data-Cultivator couldn't parse.
"Wei..." Hao's voice shook, his teeth clicking together from the sudden, unnatural temperature drop. "Stop this. The Elders... the security team is going to—"
Lin Wei didn't look at his brother. He focused on the internal interface running behind his eyes. He had intended to use The Warden's Gavel—to simply manifest the crushing gravity of his first life and flatten Vahl's Silicon Core into scrap metal.
But the blue screen in his vision flared a violent, warning crimson.
[ALERT: Sovereign Point Expenditure Suppressed!]
[Reason: Local Reality Density too low. Current World Limit: Tier-4.]
[Warning: Attempting to spend more than 10,000 Points simultaneously will cause a Spatial Tear, instantly vaporizing the Host Body and the target building.]
[Maximum Allowable Output for Current Action: 3,500 Points.]
"A leash," Lin Wei thought, his human brow twitching. "The Protocol won't let me use the mountain because the ground here is too soft."
Before he could adjust his strategy, a sharp, white-hot needle of pain pierced his chest. He staggered forward, leaning his palms against the mahogany table. He had liquidated his humanity to 0.00% on the high battlements of the North, turning his soul into a block of absolute glass. But this new body—this soft, 1-Star corporate shell—was entirely mortal. It was trying to house a monument, and the mortar was cracking.
"Cough—"
Lin Wei hit his fist against his chest. A dry, hacking sound rattled his ribs. He opened his mouth, and instead of blood, a small stream of violet sand spilled onto the polished wood of the table, hissing as it came into contact with the artificial frost.
[Physical Integrity: 89%.]
[Warning: Sovereign Soul Density is causing structural strain on the mortal vessel. Please refrain from high-output techniques until the body is properly 'Calculated'.]
Director Vahl saw the sand. He saw the way Lin Wei's right hand briefly turned the color of dull, gray slate before shifting back to pale skin. A sudden, terrible realization flashed across the Director's porcelain face.
"You're not a 1-Star civilian," Vahl whispered, his eyes widening as his smartwatch finally managed to read a fragment of Lin Wei's altered frequency. "This wave-signature... It's the one from the warning logs. The Overseers from the Noon Grid... they said the Lin bloodline had a 'Leak' in the lower sectors. You're the reason they ordered the liquidation of your clan's assets."
Lin Wei wiped the violet dust from his lips with the back of his cuff. His eyes, completely black a moment ago, ignited with a deep, predatory purple.
"The Overseers," Lin Wei thought, the word echoing in his marrow with a familiar, sickening weight. "The Bureau of Noon. They didn't just siphon my home world. They're running the market here, too."
"So," Lin Wei said, his voice dropping an octave, carrying the terrifying, hollow resonance of a stone vault opening. "The Solar Conglomerate isn't just buying real estate. You're clearing the brush for the architects."
"We are streamlining the district," Vahl barked, though his voice lacked its previous corporate arrogance. He reached into his suit jacket, drawing a small, silver cylinder—a Plasma-Chisel, typically used to cut through spiritual security arrays during data raids. "And if you're the anomaly the Grid warned us about, killing you will give me enough promotion points to buy a seat on the Central Board!"
The cylinder hissed, a three-foot blade of blinding green light erupting from the tip. The heat from the plasma cut through the frost, the steam billowing toward the ceiling as Vahl lunged across the table, aiming directly for Lin Wei's throat.
Lin Wei didn't move. He didn't try to summon a weapon from the Sovereign Forge. He had 3,500 points to spend within the local limit, and he knew exactly where to put them.
"System," he thought, his left arm—the one that carried the phantom itch of the shadow-runes—twitching beneath his suit sleeve. Modify the local grid. If they want to treat human souls as data, let's run an audit."
[Technique: 'The Warden's Audit' — Initializing.]
[Points Expended: 3,000.] [Target: Director Vahl's Silicon Core.]
The plasma blade stopped exactly three inches from Lin Wei's neck.
Vahl froze mid-air, his arms trembling, the green light of the chisel flickering wildly. His smartwatch didn't display an error code this time; it displayed a calculation. A digital ledger was running across the screen, counting backward from the amount of Liquid Qi he had absorbed during his career.
[Audit Result: Stolen Essence Detected.]
[Source: Eastern Industrial Park Workers (3,420 Lives).]
[Sovereign Action: Repossession.]
"What... what are you doing to my core?" Vahl choked out, his eyes turning a dull, milky gray as the silver light in his wrists began to flow outward, traveling through the air and entering Lin Wei's suit sleeve.
"I'm not a corporate executive, Director," Lin Wei whispered, his left hand reaching out to grab the hot plasma blade with his bare skin. The heat scorched his human palm, but he didn't flinch—he couldn't feel the temperature anyway. "I'm the Jailer. And your account is overdrawn."