CHAPTER : TWO
Chu Yan had been in the Null-Stone cell for four hours. His wrists were raw from the iron shackles. His robes reeked of old blood. And he was bored.
The walls were supposed to drain a cultivator's Qi until their soul went brittle. For Chu Yan—stuck in a mortal body with zero spiritual energy to begin with—it was just a cold room with bad lighting.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed. To the guards outside, he looked like he was meditating. In reality, he was reading a balance sheet.
[System: Sovereign Auditor 2.1]
[Current Debt: 10,100 Points | Interest: +1% daily]
[Audit Deadline: 68:14:22]
The public ledgers alone had forty discrepancies. Chu Yan's mental fingers flicked through columns of spirit stone allocations, guard payrolls, and supply shipments. And this was just the surface audit. The real embezzlement was buried deeper.
A heavy thud sounded against the iron bars. A bowl of gray, watery gruel was kicked through the slot.
"Eat up, traitor," a guard spat. "The Sovereign might have given you three days, but I give you three hours before the cold takes your toes."
Chu Yan opened his eyes. He didn't look at the food. He looked at the guard's boots. They were frayed, the leather cracked and stained with cheap oil. He began to calculate: the guard's weight, the angle of his spear, the lack of a spirit-stone heater in the corridor.
"Name and rank," Chu Yan said. His voice was flat, carrying the practiced authority of a man who had fired a thousand employees before lunch.
Zhao blinked. "What? Shut up and eat."
"Your boots are Third-Grade cowhide," Chu Yan said. "Azure Peak's standard issue for High-Dungeon sentries is Fifth-Grade Spirit-Scale. Your hazard pay is supposed to be four spirit stones a month." He paused, letting the math sink in. "When was the last time you saw a full payout, Zhao?"
Zhao's eyes widened. "What's it to you? The Sect is under 'austerity measures.' Everyone knows that."
"Austerity is for the poor; it's a profit margin for the clever," Chu Yan said, standing up. He moved to the bars, his face pale but his eyes burning with sharp intelligence. "System, scan Zhao's personal accounts."
[Scan Complete: Zhao (Level 12 Warrior).]
[Actual Received Income: 12 Stones. Reported: 48.]
[Discrepancy: 75% Theft.]
Seventy-five percent. Chu Yan's jaw tightened. In his old life, embezzling three-quarters of a payroll would've landed someone in federal prison. Here, it was just Tuesday.
"You're being robbed, Zhao," Chu Yan whispered. "Not by me. By Elder Feng. He's filing reports that he's paying you in full while pocketing the difference to fund his mistress's garden in the Hidden Valley. You're freezing in a hole so a woman you've never met can have fresh peonies in winter."
The guard's face went from pale to a deep, mottled red. The fury of the cheated was a powerful asset.
"You lie. Feng is a High Elder. He wouldn't—"
"I have the ledger." Chu Yan tapped his temple. Or I will, the moment you give me that quill. "Give me a quill and a scroll. I'll show you exactly how much he owes you. And in exchange, I want you to tell me who delivered the crates to the Third Vault last Tuesday."
Zhao hesitated. The fear of the Elders was great, but the fury of being cheated was greater. A scrap of parchment and a charcoal stick were pushed through the bars. Chu Yan didn't waste a second. He began to draw—not a map, but a flow chart. Money in. Money out. The leak.
He was so engrossed in the data that he didn't hear the footsteps until the air in the dungeon grew heavy, the temperature plummeting until Chu Yan's breath came out in thick white clouds. The violet spiritual pressure hit the bars like a physical wave.
Cang Jue stood in the corridor, his silver hair glowing like a blade in the dark. He looked at the parchment in Chu Yan's hand, then at the guard trembling in the corner.
"I expected to find you weeping," Cang Jue said, his voice a low, dangerous hum. "Instead, I find you... bookkeeping?"
Chu Yan didn't look up. He finished his last line. "I'm busy, Sovereign. Your treasury isn't just leaking; it's hemorrhaging. If I stop to cry, you'll be bankrupt by midnight."
Cang Jue stepped closer, the iron bars groaning as he gripped them. He reached through, his hand wrapping around Chu Yan's throat, pulling him flush against the cold metal. His obsidian eyes searched Chu Yan's face—not for guilt, but for the ghost of the man who had destroyed him.
"The guards say you've been talking about 'Thefts' and 'Grottos'," Cang Jue whispered, his thumb tracing the pulse point in Chu Yan's neck. It was fast, but steady. A predator's pulse. "Do you think you can buy your life with a few silver stones?"
"I'm not buying my life," Chu Yan rasped, his hand closing over Cang Jue's wrist—not pulling away, but holding him there. "I'm offering you a return on investment. If you kill me now, Elder Feng wins. If you let me work... I'll give you his head on a silver platter, along with the million stones he stole."
Cang Jue stared at him for a long, agonizing minute. His hand trembled—just a micro-fracture of control.
"Two days left, Auditor," Cang Jue growled, letting go. "Zhao. If he needs more paper... give it to him. If he tries to escape, kill him."
As the Sovereign walked away, the System dinged.
[Debt Updated: 9,701 Points]
[Relationship Variable: 'Deadly Curiosity' → 5%]
[New Quest: Liquidate Elder Feng's Assets]
Chu Yan picked up the charcoal. He had two days to bankrupt a High Elder.
He'd done hostile takeovers in less.