Chapter 69: Cultivation Through Injections?

Something was wrong.

Lu Yan’s pupils suddenly contracted as his expression grew serious.

After completing the version update, he had gone through a series of events—capturing the Black man, exploring the surface streets, descending into the underground cave—all of which took well over five hours.

Under normal circumstances, the version update progress was set on a three-month timeline, meaning that 0.1% progress should represent just over two hours.

But now, more than five hours had passed, and the progress bar still read 0.1%. This immediately made Lu Yan realize something was off.

“The rate of version update charging has changed… This means my stay in the Cyberpunk version is going to last far longer than three months!”

In the Apocalypse version, an extended stay would’ve been an opportunity—Lu Yan could harvest wandering zombies and refine soul flags to earn karma.

In the Xianxia version, he could’ve used the extra time to cultivate rapidly and increase his strength.

But of all places, it had to be the Cyberpunk version—the one world where he felt completely out of control—that got extended.

It was as if something had been targeting him ever since the update began.

Lu Yan couldn’t help but recall the incident in the Xianxia version—the photo that caused a 1% deviation in the world’s update value.

“Could it be that the disturbance I created in the Xianxia world attracted the attention of that world’s Heavenly Dao… and now I’m being punished for it?”

A bold thought surfaced in Lu Yan’s mind.

It was just speculation—there was no way to prove it.

Still, the sense of looming danger was real, and Lu Yan couldn’t afford to be careless.

“My top priority now is to settle down quickly and raise my strength, so I can be ready to face any unforeseen crisis.”

Closing his terminal, Lu Yan turned toward Quentin, who was still fiddling with the Spirit Energy battery.

“I need a place to stay.”

Quentin hesitated, then whispered, “In the underground cave, anyone can build a home. There’s no need for formal approval.”

“As long as it’s built, you just report the material and area to the City Tax Bureau, pay a construction fee, and then a monthly land tax.”

Lu Yan immediately thought of the shoddy makeshift houses he’d seen on the way in.

“Those junk houses…”

“They’re built that way to reduce construction and tax costs,” Quentin explained. “Some low-end builders can create homes that cost just ten credit points a month in land tax.”

Lu Yan couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He’d thought the residents here were poor and desperate. Turns out, it was all legal tax evasion.

The more he interacted with this Cyberpunk version, the more Lu Yan realized—without money, you couldn’t move an inch in this world.

“Forget building. Just find me a ready-made place with decent living conditions.”

As he spoke, Lu Yan pointed to the Spirit Energy battery.

“Take the cost of the terminal, housing, and Green Ivy’s guide fee from that battery.”

Hearing this, Quentin’s eyes lit up.

He had assumed Lu Yan was just some rogue outsider from another city—perhaps even the kind of person who’d ditch after getting what he needed. He thought that giving up a terminal was just a way to avoid trouble.

But now, Lu Yan was offering up a precious sixth-generation Spirit Energy battery as payment.

That changed everything.

Excited, Quentin activated his terminal and projected a 3D holographic map of the underground cave.

“This is the map of Cave No. 71. The orange-highlighted locations are the available properties that meet your requirements. You can pick whichever you like.”

Lu Yan studied the map, and suddenly, a massive castle-like structure caught his eye.

The fortress took up tens of thousands of square meters. Compared to the dilapidated shacks nearby, it stood out like a sore thumb.

Yet, it was also marked in orange—it was a valid option.

Pointing at the structure, Lu Yan asked, “What’s that?”

Quentin took a glance and replied:

“That used to be an underground pharmaceutical factory built by the Kowloon Group. After the group was swallowed up by the Universal MegaCorp, the factory was exposed to the City Tax Bureau and fined over ten billion credit points.”

“Naturally, the factory couldn’t pay and went bankrupt. The court ordered it to be auctioned.”

“But since it was an illegal underground facility, it lost its value. The land in the underground sector is already cheap, and converting it into anything useful would cost more than it’s worth. The factory failed to sell in multiple auctions.”

“A few years ago, the court declared that Lower District residents could lease the factory, as long as they paid land taxes on time.”

“The problem is, the place is huge. Someone calculated that the monthly land tax alone exceeds fifty thousand credits. No one’s willing to foot the bill, so it’s been sitting empty ever since.”

Lu Yan grew more interested as he listened.

Since he’d decided to focus on formation patterns and Spirit Energy code research, he needed a proper facility.

Spirit Energy code wasn’t too demanding in terms of environment, but Xianxia-style formation patterns required much stricter conditions.

Moreover, the Cyberpunk version was extremely lacking in ambient spiritual energy. Whether for cultivation or research, Lu Yan needed an external supply of energy.

A large enough space could house a spiritual marrow ore, allowing the formation of a minor spirit vein. With the addition of a Spirit Gathering Formation, he could build a passable cultivation environment.

Then a thought struck him.

In this version—so lacking in spiritual energy—how could a system like Spirit Energy even exist?

It didn’t make sense.

Even with Spirit Energy tattoos and code, you still needed external Spirit Energy as fuel.

Without it, they were just meaningless symbols.

In the Xianxia world, he could at least draw in ambient energy to power formations.

But here? The spiritual energy was nearly nonexistent—comparable to the Urban version.

So how is anyone powering these tattoos and codes?

Frowning deeply, Lu Yan suddenly realized he had overlooked something crucial.

His gaze snapped back to Quentin.

“Forget the housing for now. I have a question.”

Quentin, sensing the shift in tone, immediately stood at attention.

“Where does Spirit Energy actually come from?”

Quentin froze, as if he had just heard a childish question.

He looked Lu Yan up and down, then, seeing no trace of sarcasm, scratched his head in confusion.

“All Spirit Energy in this world comes from the Universal MegaCorp.”

“They control every bit of it. Anyone who wants to use Spirit Energy must carve the corporation’s Spirit Energy code into themselves—and borrow power from them.”

As he spoke, Quentin moved a machine aside and flipped a switch etched with a unique Spirit Energy symbol.

Lu Yan saw that the code resembled a hand holding up a planet—strange and symbolic.

The next moment, a torrent of Spirit Energy erupted from the symbol like a geyser.

Lu Yan instinctively activated his breathing technique, and that chaotic surge of Spirit Energy was immediately drawn into his body—transformed into mana and deposited directly into his dantian.

“No need for a full-body circulation… it just integrates directly into my mana?”

Lu Yan stood stunned.

Even the best Xianxia pills only helped speed up absorption and circulation—they couldn’t skip the cycle altogether.

But this Spirit Energy, sharing the same origin as mana, required only minor conversion. It completely bypassed the complex circulation process.

This wasn’t just “taking a pill.” This was an expert elder forcefully pouring pure mana into your body!

A storm of wild ideas brewed in Lu Yan’s heart—until Quentin continued:

“That’s industrial-grade Spirit Energy. It’s too volatile to be controlled by Spirit Energy tattoos, so it’s only used for manufacturing.”

“But I heard that in the Middle and Upper Districts, they have pure Spirit Energy injections made by mixing medicine with refined Spirit Energy. A single shot can enhance your body and replenish high-tier users’ spent energy.”

Lu Yan froze.

Then, almost involuntarily, a phrase slipped from his lips—

“Cultivation through injections?”

(End of Chapter)