The storm subsided.
Only the acrid stench of burnt ozone lingered in the air—the remnants of divine law after a god's projection had been shattered into fragments.
The hospital's main entrance had vanished entirely, replaced by a crater fifty meters wide that still smoldered with residual energy.
Marcus "Fatty" Wang poked his head out from behind a half-melted riot shield, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets. He wanted to rush forward and worship that snow-white figure standing in the ruins, but someone grabbed his collar and yanked him back.
"Don't move."
Ethan Su's voice carried no warmth—like an appraiser calculating depreciation rates on damaged goods.
He adjusted his cracked glasses with one hand, his gaze cutting through the debris to lock onto something floating above Lyra Qing's head. The data display made his pupils contract.
**[Target: Lyra Qing]**
**[Outstanding Tax Debt: ∞ (Incalculable)]**
**[Asset Rating: ST (Severe Delisting Risk)]**
"Infinite..." Ethan stared at that sideways figure-eight symbol.
This wasn't just a lifesaver—this was a super-mine on the verge of catastrophic collapse, requiring immediate restructuring or total bankruptcy within seconds.
"Bad investment," Ethan muttered, thumb rubbing against his knuckles as his mind raced through calculations. "If we liquidate now, all prior investments become bad debt."
At the crater's center, Lyra sheathed her sword.
The blade sang with crystalline purity, but couldn't mask the pallor that flashed across her face. She tried to circulate her qi to suppress the chaotic energy raging through her meridians, but her body swayed dangerously.
"Pfft!"
Golden blood splattered across her white robes like crimson plum blossoms blooming in snow.
The sky darkened abruptly.
Not clouds—something far worse.
A mass of ink-black "nothingness" materialized ten meters above Lyra's head, thick as tar and twice as malevolent. Crimson lightning writhed silently through the dark mass, producing no thunder yet making every heart feel like it was being crushed by an invisible fist.
**[WARNING: Illegal Cross-Border Enforcement Detected!]**
**[Heavenly Audit Bureau Intervention!]**
**[Violation: Mortal Slaying Divine (Unauthorized Karmic Interference)]**
**[Penalty Ruling: Mandatory Termination!]**
Red pop-up windows flooded Ethan's vision like malware advertisements.
Lyra looked up at the black mass representing "Heavenly Law's Iron Rule" and smiled with bitter resignation.
"As expected. Cross the line, and death follows."
She didn't beg or struggle—simply released her grip on the sword hilt with serene acceptance.
A cultivator's life belonged to Heaven. When Heaven demanded it back, mortals had no right to refuse.
"Ethan! Save her!" Fatty's face jiggled with panic. "That's a goddess! This lightning looks seriously wrong!"
"Shut up."
Ethan shoved Fatty behind him with surgical precision, then walked toward Lyra with measured steps. No frantic running, no disrupted rhythm—like a trader entering the market seconds before closing bell.
He stopped before the kneeling girl and pulled a dust-covered handkerchief from his suit pocket.
"Clean yourself up."
Ethan pointed at the golden blood on her lips, frowning deeply. "High-purity spiritual energy samples. Too wasteful to let it hit the ground."
Lyra looked up in bewilderment.
She'd expected terror, flight, even opportunistic exploitation. But this man's gaze held only the pained expression of someone watching precision machinery leak oil.
Pure distress over "wastage."
"You..."
*BOOM!*
The black cloud had no patience for conversation.
A crimson lightning bolt thick as a man's torso crashed downward with the force of absolute judgment—not natural electricity, but causality made manifest, carrying lethal intent straight for Lyra's skull.
"Get back!" Lyra's pupils dilated as she instinctively tried to push Ethan away. "This is karmic tribulation! Contact means death!"
Ethan didn't budge.
Lightning reflected off his lenses in cold arcs. Instead of retreating, he pulled out a golden document from his jacket—a tax form.
"Karmic tribulation?"
Ethan's lips curved into a supremely malicious smile—the expression of a capitalist who'd found a legal loophole.
"In my eyes, this is just operational debt crisis."
He spun around, pointing his right index finger at a charred corpse nearby—Zhao Tianba's remains.
Though dead, Zhao's body still radiated "divine contamination" from summoning the evil god—visible in Ethan's **[Predatory Vision]** as perfect scapegoat material.
"System!"
Golden light exploded from Ethan's eyes as his voice boomed over the thunder.
"Activate **[Asset Restructuring]** clause!"
"Transfer all 'violation karma' under Lyra Qing's name to designated target!"
**[Solution Generating...]**
**[Recipient: Zhao Tianba (Deceased)]**
**[Ruling: Dead accounts are still accounts!]**
**[Executing Transfer!]**
Ethan faced the lightning about to vaporize them both and roared with absolute authority:
"Every debt has its debtor!"
"The one who summoned evil gods is the legal representative! Settle accounts with him!"
"Transfer—NOW!"
*CRACK!*
The tribulation lightning—powerful enough to obliterate Nascent Soul cultivators—froze three inches above Ethan's head.
It seemed confused by some higher-dimensional logic.
The next instant, the lightning made an impossibly sharp right-angle turn in mid-air. Radiating fury at being deceived, it grazed Ethan's hair and slammed into Zhao Tianba's corpse with devastating force!
"BOOM—!!"
The ground shook violently.
Zhao's already-charred remains instantly vaporized, leaving not even ash behind.
The black cloud above froze in confusion.
It had lost its target lock.
According to Ethan's submitted "audit report," the debtor had been completely annihilated. The account was... settled.
The cloud churned resentfully for several moments before reluctantly dissipating.
The deadly red warning above Lyra's head instantly cleared to zero.
Silence.
Only the sound of dripping water echoed through the empty ruins.
Lyra touched her intact body in bewilderment.
A certain-death situation, resolved? Using such... brazenly shameless methods?
"You... you deceived Heaven itself?" Lyra's voice trembled as she stared at Ethan with new eyes. "You transferred my karmic burden to a dead man?"
"Watch your terminology."
Ethan brushed nonexistent dust from his suit, looking down at the former saint with cold superiority.
"It's called non-performing asset divestiture."
"Dead people don't need credit scores. But you're different."
Ethan extended his hand, a golden contract materializing in his palm—formed entirely of data streams.
**[First Tax Office - Labor Debt Repayment Contract]**
**[Party A: Ethan Su]**
**[Party B: Lyra Qing]**
"My rescue services aren't free."
Ethan instantly reverted to his infuriatingly mercenary expression, flicking the contract with one finger.
"The processing fee for that 'account settlement' is astronomical. Since you're broke, you'll pay with... physical labor."
Lyra scanned the contract's dense clauses: **[Indefinite Employment]**, **[No Base Salary]**, **[24/7 Availability]**...
Pure exploitation disguised as legal terms.
"Sign it."
Ethan's voice carried demonic temptation.
"The First Tax Office just opened. We need a competent security chief. Room and board included—I'll not only help you avoid taxes but teach you to... legally rob the entire universe."
Lyra bit her lower lip.
As a sword cultivator who'd once made nineteen provinces tremble with a single blade, she should have drawn steel and cut down this shameless opportunist.
But her instincts screamed that this mortal commanded something more fundamental than cultivation—the power to rewrite rules themselves.
After a long moment: "...Fine."
Lyra grasped Ethan's hand, using his strength to rise. Her eyes regained their sharp edge.
"If you use me for evil, I'll kill you."
Ethan smiled—the satisfied expression of someone securing cheap labor.
"Evil? No, no, no."
Ethan gripped that ice-cold jade hand, his tone meaningful.
"Taxation is the most righteous act in the universe."
"Welcome aboard, Chief Qing."
Fatty's jaw had long since dislocated.
Watching this scene, only one thought remained in his brain: *Insane.*
Ethan hadn't just killed the Branch President—he'd turned a god-slaying immortal into a wage slave?
*Is this the power of capitalism?*
Suddenly, an ear-piercing alarm shrieked through Ethan's mind without warning!
**[WARNING! WARNING!]**
**[Core Associated Account "Sophie Su" showing violent fluctuations!]**
**[Not life-threatening!]**
**[Detecting "Mythic-Grade Asset" attempting hostile takeover!]**
**[Energy readings off the charts! Exceeding even the divine projection!]**
Ethan's smile froze instantly.
His composed control evaporated, replaced by lethal violence.
Someone was touching his ultimate red line.
Ethan released Lyra's hand without explanation, grabbing his sword and sprinting toward the half-collapsed inpatient building.
"Fatty! Bring the security chief and follow!"
Ethan's voice was hoarse, each word like ice shards ground between his teeth:
"Someone's tampering with my 'core assets.'"
"Touch her, and I'll exterminate nine generations—plus confiscate three generations of inheritance!!"
The promise echoed through the ruins as Ethan disappeared into the building's shadows, leaving behind only the certainty that someone was about to learn the true meaning of financial ruin.