Xie Qingyan had already walked to the computer and sat down, beginning to study the keyboard. His fingers glided lightly across the squares, feeling the texture of this unfamiliar tool. Each square was inscribed with symbols—some he recognized, others he didn't. He pressed one, and a letter appeared on the screen. Ah, so these symbols correspond to text on the screen. He continued experimenting and quickly grasped the pattern.
Little Deer Assistant continued: "The computer can connect to the 'internet,' which links everyone in the world together. You can search for anything you want to know."
"Everyone in the world?" Yin Wuwang walked over and stood behind Xie Qingyan, watching his pale, slender fingers tap the keyboard. He asked casually: "Wouldn't that be terribly noisy?"
"No. You search for what you want, and it only shows you what you're looking for."
Yin Wuwang considered this thoughtfully. This "internet" could access all information under heaven? Then again, the cultivation world had something similar—the Myriad Phenomena Pavilion's archive could reveal everything happening in the world with a single sweep of divine sense. But that was a resource only the most elite sects possessed. Yet here, every mortal could use it? Rather interesting.
Xie Qingyan listened while continuing to operate the computer. He found a box labeled "search" on the screen, typed in a few characters, and a flood of results appeared. He raised an eyebrow slightly. This thing is indeed convenient.
Watching his fluid movements, Yin Wuwang marveled inwardly. Fuguang's adapting way too fast. I'm still struggling with that stone tablet, and he's already using that... what was it... computer? He caught a strange smell and turned to find its source. It was coming through the open window.
Yin Wuwang frowned and walked toward the window: "What's that stench?"
The smell was acrid and throat-burning, mixed with smoke and dust and some kind of oppressive heat he couldn't describe. Completely different from the scents of the cultivation world.
"That's car exhaust," Little Deer Assistant explained. "Modern people travel in vehicles called cars. They burn a substance called petroleum, which produces that smell. It's bad for your health."
Yin Wuwang's lips pressed downward slightly. The mortal world is truly crude. In the cultivation world, one could soar through the skies on flying swords or ride the wind with magical artifacts—how liberating! Yet here, people could only sit inside smelly iron boxes, crawling along at a snail's pace. But this was the mortal world. Without spiritual energy, without flying swords, this was the only way they could live. These mortals have it hard.
A rumbling sound came from outside the window. A massive vehicle passed below, making the windows tremble slightly. Then came a symphony of honking horns, the clamor of crowds, the distant pounding from construction sites... All manner of sounds mixed together, irritatingly chaotic. He couldn't help but think of nights in the Nine Abyss Demon Chasm—the blood moon hanging high, utter silence everywhere, nothing but occasional wind and the distant growls of demon beasts. Harsh, perhaps, but at least quiet. Compared to this place, it was another world entirely. Yin Wuwang shut the window, blocking out the noise and the stench.
He turned to look at Xie Qingyan.
Xie Qingyan was still studying the computer, lips slightly pursed, gaze focused. His long, curled lashes trembled softly against that cold, snow-white face. Watching him, Yin Wuwang felt the irritation from moments ago instantly soothed. Back at Mending Heaven Station, when Xie Qingyan first learned he was merely a character in a book, he had nearly suffered a heart-demon tribulation and coughed up blood on the spot. But what happened after? In the world of Power Over the World, Xie Qingyan had played the role of Regent—handling court affairs, laying traps, facing crises. Every step had been steady. No more breakdowns, no more wavering. If anything, he had become even more composed than before.
Yin Wuwang believed Xie Qingyan needed this—needed "something to do," needed "to be relied upon," needed to prove "the meaning of his existence." In the cultivation world, Xie Qingyan had been the Sword Sovereign whom all admired, the Grand Elder upon whom the entire sect depended. In the immortal realm, his swordsmanship was unmatched, his position unshakeable. That was his value, his reason for being.
Yin Wuwang reflected privately. He himself had always been untamable, dismissive of his origins and bloodline. Who could blame him, when the author had saddled him with such a ridiculous backstory—not only a half-immortal half-demon hybrid, but one with an atavistic constitution. Honestly, when Elder Mo revealed they were merely characters in a book, Yin Wuwang had felt a kind of relief. At least now he and Fuguang were equals—both just created characters, nothing more.
But Fuguang's temperament wasn't like his own "whatever happens, happens" attitude. Upon learning he was merely a character written by some author, his pride demanded that he rediscover himself, prove that he was more than just a puppet whose life was controlled by a writer. Even though these collapsing novel worlds they traversed had no spiritual energy, no swords, no Dao—perhaps they could let Fuguang prove himself in another way.
Yin Wuwang decided silently: Since Fuguang needs to be in control, then even if I could do certain things better, I'll let Fuguang handle them. I'll simply support him.
Xie Qingyan suddenly spoke: "Come here."
Yin Wuwang blinked in surprise, then walked over.
Xie Qingyan pointed at the screen: "I'm searching for this world's criminal investigation procedures."
The screen displayed a wall of text. Yin Wuwang's head ached after just two glances. "Arrest warrant," "search warrant," "detention review"... all terms he couldn't comprehend.
"You understand this?" he asked.
"More or less." Xie Qingyan said, "Before my breakthrough to the Deity Transformation stage, I once trained among mortals to temper my Dao heart. This world's laws share some similarities with ancient ones, but they're far more complex. Arresting someone requires evidence. Conducting a search requires permission. Every step has rules."
Yin Wuwang clicked his tongue: "So tedious? In the cultivation world, if I suspected someone, I would simply sweep them with my divine sense and know truth from lies instantly. What need would there be for a 'search warrant'?"
"That's because you're the Demon Sovereign." Xie Qingyan said coolly. "In the mortal world, more rules mean fewer loopholes. Unlike the cultivation world, where the strong reign supreme and the weak live or die at others' whims."
Yin Wuwang's expression remained unchanged, but bitterness stirred within him. The strong reign supreme, the weak live or die at others' whims. Fuguang was right. But what Fuguang didn't know was that Yin Wuwang had once been one of those "weak ones whose lives depended on others' mercy."
Before becoming Demon Sovereign, he had been nothing but an unwanted "child of ill omen" in the Demon Palace. His mother had been a cultivation furnace, forcibly taken. After giving birth to him, she had lost all value. Mother and son had suffered endless torment in the Demon Palace. When he was eight, civil war erupted within the palace. His mother pressed their only Concealment Talisman onto him, letting him survive while she perished in the chaos. Then came two years of wandering—stealing, robbing, begging, crawling through mud, scavenging through garbage heaps for food, chased by wild dogs, beaten by beggars, driven away by everyone as filth, as a monster. Back then, he had been worse off than any mortal.
If not for Fuguang—if not for that white-robed youth appearing in the Mist Veil Forest that year—he would have died in some forgotten corner long ago.
[End of V2_Chapter 05]
Next: "This is my prey." The day a god in white descended into this sovereign's darkness.