Midnight.
The 12,000-square-foot warehouse was a cold, concrete tomb, and it was no longer a sanctuary. It was a liability.
Lin Hao was sitting on the dusty floor, his [Level 7] body a perfect, self-sustaining furnace that needed no heat, but his mind was cold.
Drip...
He opened his eyes, his meditation broken by the sound.
Drip...
High above, a leak in the corrugated-steel roof, which he hadn't noticed in his initial rush, was letting in a slow, steady, infuriating drip of rainwater from a passing shower. The drop fell thirty feet and landed in a small, growing puddle of grime and oil, ten yards to his left.
Drip...
He was a [Level 7] cultivator, a god by the standards of this planet, and his "lair" was a cold, leaky, insecure dump. A dump he was leasing.
He had spent the last two days in a state of high-alert, paranoid planning. The "Man in the Gray Mask" was now the single most-hunted entity on Earth. The BSA had set up checkpoints, and the "Guardian Families" had publicly offered a billion-dollar mortal-money bounty for any information.
He was sitting on a ticking clock.
His phone, his real master, lit up on the floor.
11:59:59
00:00
The ritual. The one constant. The only thing that mattered. His [Level 7] realm was still LOCKED for another 18 hours. But his wealth was not.
[Daily Boost: Increase Global Reiki Density (0.01%)]? (Cost: 80 UP)
His "tithe" had increased again, scaling with his next payout. He paid it instantly.
[Deducting 80 UP. 16,450 UP Remaining.] [Ascension Bonus: ACTIVE. Your next daily UP gain will be 25,600 UP.]
And then, the glorious, life-affirming payday.
[Daily UP Generation: Active.] [Ascension Bonus: Applied (x2).] [You have received 12,800 UP.]
His previous balance, the 16,450 UP he'd been sitting on, was joined by the new flood.
[Upgrade Points (UP): 29,250]
He stared at the number. Twenty-nine thousand, two hundred, and fifty.
It was an ocean of power. It was almost three times the amount he needed for his sister's first, critical talent upgrade. But he couldn't spend it. He was here. She was there. He had to wait for the right, safe, paranoid moment to see her again.
He had a god's fortune, and he was stuck in a leaky warehouse.
Drip...
The sound was mocking him.
His [Level 7] senses, which were always passively fanned out, suddenly twitched.
Headlights. A car, driving slowly down the derelict, supposedly-empty access road that ran alongside his warehouse.
Lin Hao didn't move. He didn't breathe. His [Concealment Robe] was packed away. He was just "Lin Hao," a [Level 7] beacon, hidden only by his Low-Grade Spirit Rank Concealment Formation.
The car stopped.
It was a black and white. A new one, freshly painted with the silver BSA dragon and sword. A patrol.
He felt their senses. Two of them. Both weak, sputtering, [Level 2: Adept] auras. They were the new "beat cops" of the supernatural world.
And he felt their senses scan.
It was a clumsy, untrained, psychic "push," like a blind man sweeping a cane. The wave of their perception washed over the industrial park.
And it hit his formation.
BZZT.
It wasn't a sound. It was a feeling. To their senses, the 12,000-square-foot warehouse he was in, the one that was physically right there, had just become a "blank spot." A patch of static.
His Low-Grade formation wasn't hiding him; it was screaming that there was something to hide. It wasn't an invisibility cloak; it was a black, painted-over window in a house made of glass.
"Shit," he whispered.
The patrol car's door opened.
He heard their voices, carried on the wind. "...getting that weird feeling again, man. Right here." "It's just an empty... you know. The 'Awakening.' It's probably a Reiki-puddle, or... or a ghost. I'm not checking it. The 'Experts' can check it." "...yeah, okay. But I'm marking it. That's the third time this week. It feels... weird."
The car door slammed. The patrol car, after a long, agonizing minute, slowly drove on.
Lin Hao let out a breath, his heart, his new, [Level 7], invincible heart, thumping with a cold, mortal panic.
He was exposed.
He was so exposed.
That Low-Grade formation was trash. It was a magnet for suspicion. A Level 2 grunt had just "marked" him. What happened when a Level 4 "Prodigy" like Li Wei, or a real Level 7+ expert from a "Guardian Family," decided to investigate this "weird" patch of static?
He couldn't stay here. This "base" was a coffin.
He needed a real base. Not a leased, leaky, inner-city dump with a paper-thin magical wall.
He needed a place of absolute security. An isolated mountain. A private, offshore island. A deep, underground, purchased bunker.
He checked his mortal bank account. The $15 million. It was a joke. It wouldn't even buy him a house in the new, terrified, high-security "Awakened" real-estate market.
He needed billions. Not millions. Billions.
He looked at his 29,250 UP.
He had the supply. He just needed to find a buyer with a lot of cash. And to do that, the "Man in the Gray Mask" would have to go shopping.