Chapter 110: Not Necessarily an Enemy

While Lu Yan was tirelessly digging away at the foundations of the Soul World, back in the real world—just outside his underground pharmaceutical factory—a most unexpected guest had arrived.

Shaq paced anxiously outside the factory, his expression tense and unsettled.

Quentin, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, leaned casually against the entrance and spoke calmly:

“Old friend, you should really relax.”

“Relax? Easy for you to say!” Shaq flailed his arms, saliva flying as he shouted. “The Upper City is about to make their move—and this time it’s not just those useless law enforcement goons. These are the elites, the strongest psionic enforcers the Upper City has to offer!”

Shaq’s voice was nearly frantic.

“Most of them are the children of high-ranking figures. They’ve undergone top-tier psionic augmentation since birth, had world-class code masters design tailor-made psionic codes just for them!”

“And what do we have in the Lower City? Just a bunch of ragtag psionic users forcibly awakened by the Nine Dragons Elixir! Most of them haven’t even undergone any cybernetic augmentation—they relied solely on the elixir to evolve. Sure, they’re strong enough to bully civilians, but against those Upper City elites? They’re no match at all!”

“This time, the Upper City’s goal is to wipe us out completely—capture everyone and toss us into the Paradise Computing Center.”

“No—me, I’ll be a special target. They’ll probably execute me on the spot. I won’t even get a chance to be sent to Paradise.”

His panic was justified. Thanks to Lu Yan’s continuous supply of Nine Dragons Elixir, Shaq had risen rapidly, establishing the Nine Dragons Society—the largest faction in the Lower City, with over four thousand psionic users and still growing.

In sheer size, they were unmatched. Compared to the old powers, they only lacked in loyalty and deep-rooted core members.

Under Shaq’s leadership, the Lower City had recently crushed the invading troops from the Middle City—dealing them a decisive blow and thrusting Shaq into the spotlight.

Yet now, the very same Shaq stood outside this factory, completely at a loss.

The reason was simple: the Lower City was on the verge of collapse.

A few days ago, after the chaos in the Upper City ended, all external communication for City No. 14 was severed.

Those who attempted to flee to other cities in hovercars were blocked by the city guard. Then, Board Member Plon made a public statement declaring a temporary state of martial law.

People tried sneaking across the borders or using falsified credentials—but every attempt was intercepted. Under the omnipresent surveillance of the mega-AI, no one could escape.

Through every channel he had, Shaq investigated and learned the terrifying truth: the elites of the Upper City had clashed with the AI God. The lockdown was to prevent sensitive information from leaking to other cities.

Dog-eat-dog politics among the elite—that should’ve been good news for someone like Shaq.

But what happened next wiped the smile right off his face.

During this lockdown, the Universal Corporation issued a conscription order, demanding the Upper City quickly suppress the Lower City’s tax evaders.

Ironically, the Middle City was the first to fall apart—not the Lower City.

After a sudden thirty-year advance tax collection, the conscription order sent the Middle City back into an era of feudal warlords.

Within a week, over a hundred thousand people had been sent to the Paradise Computing Center. Meanwhile, more than fifty thousand fresh recruits were assembled.

And now, the Upper City had mobilized over twenty thousand elite psionic troops, preparing to invade the Lower City.

If it were just the greenhorns from the Middle City, Shaq wouldn’t bat an eye.

But twenty thousand battle-hardened elites from the Upper City?

That sent chills down his spine.

He knew well that the Lower City’s biggest advantage lay in the underground terrain, which rendered large-scale weapons nearly useless. In such cramped spaces, individual combat power reigned supreme—and the Lower City had over thirty thousand psionic users.

But now, under the overwhelming might of the Upper City, even that advantage had evaporated.

Some faction leaders were already whispering about surrender—offering up their fellow citizens in exchange for exemption from being sent to Paradise.

Factions argued endlessly, no one able to reach a consensus.

In desperation, Shaq had come to seek Lu Yan’s help—only to be told by Quentin that Lu Yan had been in seclusion for days.

Time ticked away. Shaq wanted to leave—there were too many crises to manage, and he couldn’t afford to waste time just waiting.

Just then, Quentin exhaled a smoke ring and said:

“Three months ago, when your arena was investigated by enforcers and you were ambushed by a Middle City sheriff in the tunnels, you were beaten down, sure—but you still had that fire in your heart. You still believed you could rise again.”

“But now? You’re a leader in the Lower City, and suddenly you’re paralyzed by fear.”

“If you came here, it should only be for two reasons. Either you’re willing to wait patiently for the boss to emerge and bring salvation to the Lower City—or you should’ve stayed home and united the remaining factions to fight the Upper City’s army.”

Shaq’s rage gradually gave way to calm.

He snatched Quentin’s cigarette, ignited it with a snap of psionic flame, and took a deep drag.

“I lost my cool,” Shaq said quietly. “Ever since meeting the boss, I’ve soared to the top. From a small-time arena owner to the head of the Nine Dragons Society—ruling over several subterranean sectors with four thousand psionic users under my command.”

“The power, the wealth—it got to my head.”

“When I heard the Upper City was coming, the fear of those elites returned. I panicked. I wanted to protect everything I’d gained—everything.”

“But now I realize—back when I had nothing, I wasn’t afraid of the Upper City’s big shots. So why should I be afraid now, when I’m stronger than ever?”

He flicked the cigarette to the ground and spat viciously.

“Let those Upper City bastards come! Even if we die, we’ll make sure to take a bite out of them first!”

Just then, the massive doors of the underground factory slowly creaked open.

Shaq and Quentin immediately stepped inside, where they found Lu Yan—having just exited his remote control trance.

Shaq opened his mouth to speak, but Lu Yan raised his hand to cut him off.

“I already know why you’re here. But the Upper City… you don’t need to worry about them.”

“They may not be our enemies.”

(End of Chapter)