Let the Empire Suffer a Little

Showing no mercy, striking ruthlessly. Ji Jue seized the horrified wolf-beast before him by the scruff and immediately began refining it— Useless? If you're useless, then drop dead! What else—keep you around to make the Holy Dynasty great again? If the Eternal Empire truly needed rebuilding, it certainly wouldn't need garbage like this... Relying on a wolf's loyalty was even more foolish than counting on an artisan's morals or a Heart Pivot's character! Far better to recycle the trash for himself... "No... wrong." Amid the burning black flames, that stiff face gradually contorted, screaming in sheer terror: "Wrong... you're not... you're not Lu Changsheng! You're not... Who on earth are you... The Sage won't spare you! The Sage will definitely..." "Is that so? But I *am* your Sacrificial Lord Sage." Ji Jue cast his gaze down coldly, looking upon him: "If you have bowed to sin, why do you not prostrate yourselves before me? If you yearn to transmute evil to righteousness, why are you unwilling to make a small sacrifice of your own self?" Amid the churning bloodlight, the secret ritual of the Great Sin abruptly activated. Surging like a tidal wave, the rushing spiritus swallowed that terror-stricken, contorted face. Kelbasu howled and wailed, his eyes crimson. His body swelled abruptly within its bonds, revealing his true form—an eerie beast covered in fur from head to toe, thrashing frenziedly as if ready to devour anyone in sight. Yet it was utterly futile. He had no power left to fight back. He wasn't even given the chance to drag his enemy down with him... Too late. Far too late. If an artisan let materials escape his crucible, what right did Ji Jue have to call himself an artisan? At this moment, the torrent of flames rising from the Hole of Great Sin gushed forth like a waterfall. Held and governed by his palm, it poured incessantly into the helpless beast's body. Tangible chaos began spreading swiftly, diffusing and corroding, ravaging and tearing through everything. Yet after being scorched by the black flames, something seemed to be remade out of the void! Ji Jue had not done anything deliberately; he was merely applying the chaotic black flame from the depths of his soul as naturally as breathing. As if by instinct. Then, he discovered that this black fire, which resembled the embodiment of chaos running rampant, was an absolute match made in heaven for corruption alchemy—discarding all trivial nuances and zeroing in on the grand whole, effortlessly wreaking destruction, distortion, and mutation, fully squeezing out every shred of performance and potential from the material in his hands. Immediately after, [Assimilation] began! As the black flames poured, corroded, and assimilated, the presence of the beast before him grew increasingly distinct within the perception of the Sovereign Axis. It was as if everything belonging to the other was being stripped away, converted into a piece of himself! Just like a Great Sin bestowing a boon upon its followers... If one considered Ji Jue a sin, then the beast receiving the boon of the black flames right now was undeniably a disciple receiving a blessing and undergoing a metamorphosis. Its essence was assimilation and corruption between abominations! The only difference was that the Great Sins worshiped and pursued by countless followers were like monopolistic mega-corporations under the Vortex—wealthy, powerful, and utterly overbearing. Meanwhile, a self-arisen demon like Ji Jue, who had severed all ties with the Vortex, was an illicit underground sweatshop, a shady black market workshop—the kind that didn't pay a single cent of tax to the Vortex. But was a shell corporation's boss not a boss? Everyone is working hard to survive; being a Sacrificial Lord Sage isn't easy either! If you have any complaints, take them up with my "blessing" industrial park! Grabbed by the collar, instantly onboarded! And so, enveloped in black flames, the beast howled and screamed, until soon it could make no sound at all. In its eyes, the final spark of terror dissolved, leaving behind only sheer emptiness. Numb and vacant as a wooden fowl. When the last flicker of black flame vanished beneath the flesh, the beast possessed not a shred of its former aura. Through seamless corrosion and assimilation, it retained the outward appearance of a wolf, yet fundamentally it had become an extension and appendage of Ji Jue's sin. Thus, the Sacrificial Lord Sage warmly welcomed his very first believer and follower. Only... it didn't seem all that bright... After Ji Jue's ruthless strike, the consciousness had been dissolved completely; all that remained inside the mutated soul was basic instinct. An empty shell with vacant eyes. After pondering for a moment, Ji Jue plucked a Spirit of Creation from the Lord of the Flies at his side and shoved it directly inside. Following a forced calibration, those hollow eyes lit up again, gleaming with a familiar spark. And then, right before Ji Jue, a half-human, half-wolf beast squatted on the ground and began to meow. [?] Ji Jue stood silent, speechless. His eyelid twitched uncontrollably. *Lord of Huangliang, you're fucking waiting for me right here, aren't you!* The episode where he hated cats the most... Next, he watched the beast squatting, licking its paw, and once it was clean, raising a leg, opening its mouth, and sticking out its tongue toward its... *That is fucking enough!* The beast's movements ground to an instantaneous halt. Frozen stiff. It squatted obediently on the ground, holding its head in its hands like a piece of equipment, strictly executing every command and prohibition. In truth, there was indeed no real difference between the thing before him and a tool... It was completely a living construct processed through corruption alchemy. Regrettably, deploying and controlling it felt like wearing shoes a size too small. Out of the ten parts of capability the material had possessed, squeezing out around nine was already considered good—it was compromised, after all. Ji Jue wasn't a wolf, after all. With poor compatibility, many maneuvers were impossible to pull off. For an artisan, if he truly wanted something to function like an extension of his own arm, inanimate objects like machinery were far more convenient. Thinking of this, he could not help but shake his head in regret. This account was bricked. A wolf's strength lay in disguise and concealment. To make it useful, he would probably have to send it back to the Imperial garrison base to continue lurking. Yet that bastard Shehri kept his head hidden and his tail tucked away; catching any leads in the short term would be difficult, and in the long run, Ji Jue lacked the leisure to divide his attention and pilot it around the clock. Besides, even if he waited until the end, it would likely yield nothing. Shehri's order to Kelbasu had simply been to infiltrate the Imperial base and avoid drawing attention; he had never explicitly told him what he was supposed to accomplish. If Shehri genuinely trusted him, he would have kept him close as a henchman—why leave him sitting idle? Moreover, for a monumental undertaking like retrieving the White King's corpse, wouldn't more subordinates be better? Putting himself in the man's shoes, Ji Jue figured this guy had probably been designated as a scapegoat from the start—a pawn to throw out and draw eyes once Shehri stirred up trouble. What else? Could anyone possibly expect someone like this to steal a fusion bomb? Ji Jue was amused by his own thought. "..." In the silence, he froze where he stood. Then... his grin grew even wider! Right, why not? As the saying went, heavenly treasures belonged to the virtuous. A fine treasure like a fusion bomb rightfully belonged to the White Nation! How could a measly, ill-fated Empire possess the fortune and wisdom to keep it under control? No matter what Shehri was actually up to, and no matter what that old dog Sower was scheming behind the scenes by going to such great lengths... Regardless of whether they were, whether they did, or whether they wanted to—from this moment on, they were, they did, and they wanted to! Even if Shehri couldn't pull it off, Ji Jue could help him! I can be a wolf too; I can love the White Nation too! Even if it meant making an enemy of the entire world, Ji Jue was willing to become Mr. Shehri's most loyal supporter! Otherwise, if he relied solely on sneaking around in secret to hunt for wolves, how many years would that take? When dealing with this kind of nonsense, one really had to mobilize the power of everyone and resolve all problems with Hot Blood and bonds! Lately, those bastards in Tacheng had been living a bit too comfortably... It was time for everyone to eat shit once again! In the dead silence, Ji Jue stroked his chin and suddenly chuckled softly. "In that case, let the Empire suffer a little more!" . "Ji, you motherf—" "Where the fuck did you go?!" "Say something!" At this moment, Tang Qian, who had been left behind in the NCO dormitory, was practically losing his mind. Turning around to look at the wreckage filling the room, he paced in frantic circles like an ant on a hot pan. He had every reason to panic! Someone was knocking on the door outside. The knocking grew faster and more urgent. He broke into a cold sweat. "Lieutenant Colonel Erika? Colonel, are you in there?" The dormitory manager stood outside with furrowed brows, his expression turning grave. He had already received an alert when the maintenance worker failed to leave after their credentials expired, prompting him to investigate. After getting no answer to his phone call or knocks, he pulled a key from his pocket. "Lieutenant Colonel Erika, I'm coming in—" *Click.* A soft sound. The locked door opened a crack right in front of him. A flushed face peered out. In the muggy sheen of sweat, a few strands of hair clung to her cheeks. She sounded like she had just finished a vigorous workout, fighting to suppress her ragged breathing. "Hm? I'm sorry, I was... running. I didn't hear." Erika gave a charming smile, looking at the manager. "Is something urgent?" The manager froze, dumbfounded. Then, he shook his head subconsciously. "Ah, no, well, uh... it's just..." Wisely choosing not to pry into what had transpired, the manager suppressed his shocked expression and coughed twice. "Apologies for the disturbance." He turned and left. The door clicked shut once more. Inside the sweltering room, 'Erika' turned around to face the stunned Tang Qian. "All right, pack everything up. Don't make a scene." The voice was melodious, yet the tone was unmistakably familiar. Old Tom remained frozen, unable to believe his eyes. Just as he was about to draw his blade and fight to the bitter end, a *pew~* sounded, and a person appeared out of thin air in the middle of the room. The pretty young lady they had just been trading lethal blows with stepped out from an unfolding quicksilver cube, touched up her appearance, and sent the manager packing. Right in front of Tang Qian, a flick of the fingers restored the devastated room to its original state in the blink of an eye—including the distribution box that Tang Qian had smashed to bits. "Holy shit?!" The Swarm's Celestial Chosen blurted out an unrefined exclamation of pure disbelief: "You can do that too?!" *You blink your eyes and turn into a pretty girl?!* Inside the Heritage Burnt Offering, Fourth Granduncle, who had been quietly watching the show, couldn't help but roll his eyes. *You brain-dead idiot, is that the point?!* He glanced intentionally or unintentionally at that seemingly ordinary quicksilver cube, the vortex it had formed moments ago, and the spatial transit capable of breaching the Empire's layered detection networks and phase lockdowns... He could no longer hold back a sharp intake of breath. This mighty art of mastering all directions and commanding time—even in a mere fleeting glimpse—was enough to strike terror into Fourth Granduncle, a man who had fully witnessed the Eternal Empire at the height of its glory. The Imperial Sovereign's Hand! It really was the Imperial Sovereign's Hand... *Mother of God, are we really going to rebuild the Empire?!* While it truly was the power of the Celestial Rail, the vast majority of it was accomplished by Ji Jue relying on the Doomsday Express. After advancing to the Regeneration tier, the Express—which in the past could only cycle back and forth between fixed stations—could finally set custom routes and be driven with modest flexibility. At best, it was merely an upgraded development of the "Return Order"—the one-click return function—allowing him to anchor coordinate points to other objects as temporary transit beacons. However, with Ji Jue's current abilities, barely bringing a person in and out was his limit. Furthermore, if repeated too frequently without enough time to erase residual traces, it might leave behind evidence. At this moment, as 'Ji Jue' once more wore the guise of the pretty young lady and looked at Tang Qian, the veteran of the Swarm involuntarily shuddered. "In that case, I won't disturb Boss's good fun." Without a second thought, he hoisted his toolbox. "I'm out of here!" *Smack!* A dainty hand clamped right onto Tang Qian's shoulder. "What's the rush? The job's not finished yet." Erika's small face peeked out from behind his shoulder. Glancing at his sweating face, she suddenly grinned. "Don't tell me you're planning to pack your bucket and run?" "N-No way! Boss, thinking that of me is a massive injustice!" Old Tom's eyes went wide, his face full of grief and indignation, yet his feet couldn't stop inching toward the doorway. Greasing his soles, he desperately wanted out of this mess. Alas, he couldn't move. Fourth Granduncle had logged in and hijacked the controls! "Through fire and water, Boss!" Fourth Granduncle boomed from the base of his neck. "Give the order, and it shall be done!" At that, 'Ji Jue's' smile grew even more delighted. "Let's make sure of one thing first. That four-dimensional ass—*cough, cough*—that Heritage Burnt Offering of yours..." Ji Jue asked inquisitively, "It should be able to store... *anything*, right?" "..." Silence. In the brief silence, Tang Qian looked into those eyes brimming with anticipation, and cold sweat poured down his brow.