Chapter 103: Genesis!

After clearly realizing that the Paradise Compute Center was the key to this tax disaster, Lu Yan began pondering how to gain access to it.

According to the intel he had gathered, everything inside the Paradise Compute Center was governed by the central AI. All soul-powered laborers were confined within the Spiral Tower.

These computational laborers were required to perform at least twenty-two hours of soul-intensive work each day. During this time, their physical needs were sustained through nutrient solutions—there was no need for food or waste.

The remaining two hours of the day were spent in deep sleep inside rest pods, recovering just enough energy to continue the next cycle of soul computation.

Their every move was strictly monitored by the AI. If they failed to complete the minimum twenty-two hours of soul computation, they weren’t even allowed to exit their rest pods.

Aside from the computational laborers, there wasn’t a single living being inside the Spiral Tower. This made infiltrating the Paradise Compute Center an incredibly difficult task.

Even entering as a computational laborer came with heavy restrictions—and possibly exposure.

So, Lu Yan took a different route. He planned to send a Fierce Ghost—one imbued with the Heaven’s Code—into the center.

But there was a problem: Fierce Ghosts could only be controlled within the domain of the Soul Banner Wraith Realm, which meant Lu Yan had to stay nearby to guide them or receive sensory feedback. If the ghost went too far from the Soul Banner, Lu Yan would be blind and deaf—completely cut off from the ghost’s experience.

To solve this, Lu Yan spent half a month separating a portion of the Soul Banner’s core, forging a smaller Soul Sub-Banner.

As long as the bearer carried the Soul Sub-Banner, the Fierce Ghost could operate freely within its radius, no longer limited by Lu Yan’s direct control.

With the mobility issue resolved, Lu Yan now needed someone to carry both the Fierce Ghost and the Soul Sub-Banner into the Paradise Compute Center.

Initially, he wanted to choose someone from the underground caves. But the stalemate between the caves and the Central/Upper Districts meant no one was being arrested—let alone sent to the Compute Center.

So he shifted his sights aboveground.

Since there were no suitable candidates in the Lower District, Lu Yan instructed his AI assistant to casually post an ad online, hoping to lure some unlucky soul from the Central District.

And sure enough—Mike took the bait.

Lu Yan fabricated a story about “soul lending,” handing over the Soul Sub-Banner disguised as a totem. That way, even if things fell apart, it would all be blamed on a nonexistent lending platform.

“Now that everything’s ready, all that’s left is to get Mike into the Paradise Compute Center tomorrow.”

But things moved even faster than Lu Yan had anticipated.

He didn’t even have to wait until the next day. Shortly after Mike returned home, he was arrested for allegedly attempting to evade the Energy Tax. They skipped the asset assessment entirely and threw him straight onto the transport to the Compute Center.

Lu Yan commanded the Fierce Ghost to hide inside Mike’s body, secretly observing everything.

As the transport vehicle approached the Paradise Compute Center, Lu Yan finally witnessed the grandeur of the Spiral Tower.

Spanning several kilometers, the colossal structure soared thousands of meters into the sky.

Once inside the tower’s perimeter, over ten different scans swept across Mike’s body—yet none detected the Fierce Ghost.

Inside, Lu Yan saw that each of the tower’s thousands of floors housed tens of thousands of rest pods.

Mike was quickly assigned to a pod and, following the AI’s instructions, lay down inside.

Moments later, Mike’s fragile soul was drawn out by a mysterious force, ascending alongside other new computational laborers.

Sensing this, the Fierce Ghost—under Lu Yan’s command—stepped forward to take Mike’s place.

Without a hitch, the Fierce Ghost successfully ascended in Mike’s stead. The AI in charge of the center didn’t detect a thing.

Controlling the Fierce Ghost, Lu Yan began to sense the strange sensation of ascension. In the next instant, an immense and majestic surge of information flooded his mind like a tidal wave.

Lu Yan steadied his thoughts and began absorbing the data.

Around him, other ascending souls contorted in agony. Some trembled violently, on the verge of collapse.

But the Fierce Ghost was already at the mid-stage of Qi Refining, its soul far stronger than that of ordinary mortals.

Even Cyber-version Awakened Ones had weaker souls compared to a Fierce Ghost.

Lu Yan swiftly digested the torrent of information—only to discover it was a kind of information compilation technique, using soul computation to build and create all things.

“So this is the real purpose behind the AI God’s obsession with soul computation?”

As the thought passed through his mind, the scene around him began to change.

The first thing he saw was a boundless prairie, the emerald green grass brimming with vitality and tranquility.

Instinctively, Lu Yan bent down to touch the grass. To his shock, the Fierce Ghost’s body registered a clear tactile sensation—he could even smell the earthy scent of soil and grass.

“It’s… real?”

His pupils contracted sharply.

But when he looked up toward the sky, he saw that above this prairie, the heavens were incomplete—like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle.

Between the blue sky and white clouds loomed vast swathes of black void, empty and devouring.

At the edges of the darkness, millions of souls floated across the sky.

Each soul was working, using the information compilation technique to weave patches of blue sky and clouds—crafting sunlight to mend the black holes in the heavens.

Lu Yan’s thoughts stirred, and he rose from the prairie, ascending into the firmament.

The world below shrank. His vision expanded.

Snowy mountains, deserts, forests, oceans—all sorts of terrain appeared in this magnificent world.

Some areas were stunningly realistic, flawless to the point of seeming real.

Others remained broken, riddled with black voids, where uncountable souls labored to restore the fabric of the world with soul computation.

On the whole, this world was nearly complete—just a few finishing touches away from perfection.

At last, Lu Yan understood.

He now knew why the AI God so desperately craved soul computation, and why the world called it “all-knowing and all-powerful.”

It had gathered the soul power of countless beings from across the Cyber version of the world—and used information compilation as the foundation to create a new world.

A world neither real nor illusory—resting precisely on the boundary between reality and illusion.

A world that belonged to souls.

(End of Chapter)