Chapter 73: I’ll Just Sell Medicine, Then

“Spirit Energy tax?”

Lu Yan narrowed his eyes at Quentin, his expression laced with displeasure as an invisible pressure suddenly spread out.

“When I rented this factory, I prepaid six months’ worth of Spirit Energy tax at thirty thousand credits per month. I also put you in charge of the whole matter.

“It’s only been a month and a half, and you’re telling me the payment is overdue? Are you toying with me?”

Thud!

Quentin dropped to his knees with a loud crash, his body trembling uncontrollably.

After learning to use Spirit Energy code, Quentin had barely reached the First Layer of Qi Refining. How could he possibly withstand the overwhelming pressure of someone nearing Foundation Establishment?

Face full of misery, he hurriedly explained:

“Sir, I swear I’m not trying to deceive you!”

“The thirty thousand credit tax is only for maintaining minimal factory operations. If the usage of industrial-grade Spirit Energy exceeds that, the tax increases accordingly.

“After you gave me that precious knowledge, I focused all my energy on studying it and didn’t pay attention to the factory.

“It wasn’t until today that I received a message on my terminal warning me that the factory’s Spirit Energy tax had skyrocketed—and that my personal account didn’t have enough credits to pay the outstanding amount. The deadline’s in half a month.

“If it goes unpaid, I’ll be hit with a massive fine and sent to Paradise Computation Center to repay the debt!”

Quentin’s eyes were filled with terror.

Lu Yan, seeing the panic and sincerity in his expression, slowly relaxed and retracted his pressure.

Regaining the ability to move, Quentin quickly brought up his terminal and displayed the tax statements.

[July Spirit Energy Tax for Underground Pharmaceutical Factory: 367,710.63 credits]

[August Spirit Energy Tax to Date: 523,662.07 credits]

Quentin also showed his account balance.

Balance: 5,600 credits.

Lu Yan’s eyes widened, no longer able to stay calm.

“Over nine hundred thousand credits? Are you sure this bill is correct?”

Wearing a bitter expression, Quentin nodded.

“I even went to the City Tax Bureau to verify it. There’s no mistake.

“In fact, the credits you had stored were already used up last month. It just wasn’t noticed because the account was linked to my terminal, so the tax was deducted from my own balance.

“It wasn’t until today—when I got a warning about insufficient funds—that I realized the Spirit Energy tax had severely overshot.”

At this, Quentin couldn’t help but sigh.

Back when they rented the factory, Lu Yan—just to be cautious—had everything registered under Quentin’s name, including the tax account.

Quentin had been overjoyed at receiving the Compiler knowledge and had agreed immediately.

Who would’ve thought that in just a month and a half, he would lose all the wealth he’d saved up over the past ten years—and now owed over five hundred thousand in Spirit Energy taxes, all due at the end of the month?

He now deeply regretted being so dazzled by the Compiler’s inheritance.

All he could do now was pray that Lu Yan would cover the shortfall. If not, he’d be dragged off to the Paradise Computation Center.

With growing anxiety, Quentin asked, “Sir, what exactly have you been doing in the pharmaceutical factory? Even at its peak, the factory never consumed this much Spirit Energy!”

Lu Yan’s expression turned slightly awkward.

He’d initially assumed Quentin was playing tricks behind his back, but it turned out Quentin was the unfortunate scapegoat.

Over the last six weeks, the factory’s Spirit Energy transmission system had been operating at near full capacity.

The first month wasn’t so bad. Back then, Lu Yan was still climbing from the Fifth Layer of Qi Refining, so his absorption rate wasn’t high.

But after reaching the Eleventh Layer, he poured all his focus into reaching the Twelfth Layer. His absorption efficiency skyrocketed—sometimes even overwhelming the factory’s system.

Looking back on the sheer amount of Spirit Energy consumed, Lu Yan realized the nine-hundred-thousand tax bill was actually… quite reasonable.

Calculating it based on the Spirit Stones converted into sixth-gen Spirit Energy batteries, this tax was equivalent to just nine Spirit Stones—a price that was practically dirt-cheap.

But this kind of luxury was only possible because Lu Yan was a constant—an Unchanging One.

Seeing Quentin’s grief-stricken face, Lu Yan offered a rare bit of comfort.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover the excess Spirit Energy tax.”

Hearing that, Quentin’s eyes lit up with hope and he grinned.

“Do you have credits available now, Mr. Lu?”

“None,” Lu Yan said bluntly, spreading his hands.

“Then… perhaps some sixth-gen Spirit Energy batteries or other valuable items?”

“Also none.”

The smile on Quentin’s face instantly froze.

“But I can sell a few more copies of the Fundamentals of Spirit Energy Coding.”

One copy could net fifty thousand credits. And there were bound to be tons of half-baked Compilers in the Lower City just like Quentin.

Selling just a few more would not only patch up the current shortfall but potentially make a tidy profit, covering future taxes too.

After all, Lu Yan would be in the Cyber version for six months. He would need even more credits down the line.

But to his surprise, Quentin shook his head firmly at the idea.

“Mr. Lu, I really advise against that.”

“Why?”

“Compiler knowledge isn’t rare in the Upper City. You can buy it from any corner bookstore.

“It’s only valuable here in the Lower City because the Upper City deliberately suppresses knowledge down here.

“They don’t allow complete Compiler manuals to circulate below. If you start selling them in bulk, someone will report you. Once the Upper City Enforcers get involved, you’ll be headed to the Paradise Computation Center for sure.”

Lu Yan frowned.

He had so many items on him that were priceless in the Cyberpunk world: Spirit Stones, array inheritances, pills. Any one of them could easily pay off the tax.

But this Cyber version was too… distorted. The AI god was unpredictable and enigmatic. Lu Yan didn’t dare act too recklessly.

Which meant… earning credits had become a headache.

“Too conspicuous to sell them in the Lower City. What about going to the Middle City to offload a few?”

As soon as the thought rose, a chill of foreboding washed over him. Deep in his soul, now nearing Foundation Establishment, a faint warning echoed.

Lu Yan instinctively pinched the bridge of his nose, wariness rising in his heart.

Ever since he left the Apocalypse version, his soul had occasionally generated faint premonitions. Back then, he hadn’t paid much attention to it.

But now, at the Twelfth Layer, those sensations had become increasingly clear—almost like a primitive sense of fate.

He suspected it had something to do with the massive amount of Moonlight Spiritual Energy he’d absorbed in the Apocalypse version.

Zombies in that world had spent years absorbing Moonlight Energy, developing all kinds of supernatural powers. Lu Yan’s soul seemed to have birthed a fledgling version of such a power, which he now dubbed Spiritual Intuition.

Though incomplete due to a lack of Moonlight Energy, this Intuition occasionally gave him glimpses of fortune and disaster.

And the idea of selling Xianxia-version items had triggered a strong warning from it.

That alone made Lu Yan decisively abandon the idea.

“So how can I get a huge amount of credits…?”

Lu Yan frowned deeply, even briefly entertaining the idea of robbing a gang.

But credit transfers left traces. Robbery would only expose him further.

Just as he racked his brain for answers, the corner of his eye caught sight of the underground pharmaceutical factory around him—and suddenly, everything clicked.

This place had a fully functioning production line. The drugs it produced weren’t even complicated—just common steroid-based potions. The key technique was merely infusing Spirit Energy into them.

Previously, the factory only dared to use industrial-grade Spirit Energy to cut costs, resulting in nasty side effects. They could only rely on low prices to attract buyers.

But Lu Yan had plenty of Spirit Stones, and he could even cultivate a Spirit Vein using Spiritual Marrow Ore.

By infusing his medicine with gentle and pure Spiritual Energy, he could massively reduce side effects while dramatically increasing effectiveness.

After all, untamed Spirit Energy was far less effective at strengthening the body than Spiritual Energy, which was naturally stable and mild.

In an instant, countless ideas bloomed in Lu Yan’s mind.

A faint, meaningful smile curled on his lips as he patted Quentin’s muscular Kirin arm.

“It’s simple. I’ll just sell medicine, won’t I?”

(End of Chapter)