Chapter 74: Cavern No. 33

Lower City, Cavern No. 33.

Among the many underground caverns in the Lower City, Cavern No. 33 was a rather unique existence.

Most caverns served one simple purpose: sheltering impoverished civilians who couldn’t afford the Tier-3 air tax or sunlight tax. But Cavern No. 33 was different.

This particular cavern had once been a corporate fallout shelter from a major company. After being repurposed, it now stood as one of the most prosperous and chaotic zones in the entire Lower City.

Human trafficking, contraband, occult knowledge, Spirit Energy constructs—anything could be found here. Gambling dens and private clubs were commonplace, and there were even several life-or-death arenas, where hundreds of fighters battled every single day.

Rumor had it that any gladiator who could achieve one hundred consecutive victories would be granted Spirit Energy modification, becoming a true Spirit Energy user.

Unfortunately, those who reached that milestone were few and far between. But the blood and passion of the fights continued to draw endless spectators, including even the occasional aristocrat from the Upper City.

A modified heavy-duty transport vehicle slowly came to a halt at the entrance of Cavern No. 33. Lu Yan and Quentin climbed down.

Lu Yan had already changed out of his distinctive Daoist robes and now wore a casual short-sleeved outfit that didn’t draw any attention in the crowd.

Ironically, it was Quentin—tall and broad-shouldered, with a massive Kirin Arm as thick as his waist—who drew endless stares filled with awe and envy as they passed.

In the Cyber version, Spirit Energy mutations were a symbol of power and wealth. The more grotesque the modification, the more fear it inspired.

Quentin carried a silver security case in his left hand. He was already used to the surrounding gazes and didn’t respond to them at all.

However, the trace of worry on his face hadn’t faded.

“Mr. Lu, are you sure someone’s gonna buy this stuff?”

As they neared the entrance of Cavern No. 33, Quentin glanced nervously at Lu Yan and spoke.

Lu Yan shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t even test the medicine yourself when I asked. Now we’re almost at the gate and you’re starting to worry again?

“If you’re really that unsure, you can just turn back.”

Quentin fell silent, casting a glance down at the silver case in his hand.

It looked quite luxurious on the outside, with intricate mechanical engravings that gave it a high-tech feel—something you’d expect to see containing treasures from the Upper City.

But only Quentin knew the truth.

The case was a knockoff he had cobbled together using a discarded machining tool, based on the design of some Upper City luxury line. Even the lock had been scavenged from a scrap heap.

As for what was inside…

Two days ago, Lu Yan had suddenly come up with the idea of selling medicine to cover the Spirit Energy tax.

Quentin had assumed he possessed some rare Spirit Energy alchemy method and had agreed without hesitation.

Instead, Lu Yan threw him into the abandoned pharmaceutical factory and made him refurbish the long-defunct production line from scratch.

Then he squeezed Quentin for his last 5,000 credits, which were used to buy ingredients.

After exhausting all his skills and barely getting the rusted machines running again, Quentin watched the production process—and nearly fainted.

Every sign pointed to one fact: these were just basic steroidal potions.

These kinds of meds were everywhere in the Lower City. Nothing novel about them at all.

The original factory had made money because the Kowloon Group had ways of evading Spirit Energy tax, allowing them to drive down costs and undercut competitors.

But now Lu Yan was manufacturing the same cheap, low-tier meds while shouldering enormous Spirit Energy taxes. Quentin honestly doubted whether they could even make back the cost of materials.

To make matters worse, once the potions were done, Lu Yan had actually asked Quentin to test them—claiming they’d bring him one step closer to becoming a Spirit Energy user.

Though Quentin held deep respect for Lu Yan’s mysterious origins and overwhelming power, there was no way he was going to guinea pig himself.

He knew exactly what happened to people who overdosed on these low-grade Spirit Energy steroids.

A swollen skull was the least of it. The truly unlucky ended up with rotting flesh and cognitive decay.

As someone with dreams of becoming a Compiler, Quentin absolutely refused to risk his life.

Lu Yan didn’t push him. Instead, he simply had Quentin prepare a case that looked presentable, packed the medicine into single-use syringes, and declared they would go sell it in Cavern No. 33.

Quentin remained skeptical. But with the looming debt of that massive Spirit Energy tax over his head, he had no choice but to follow Lu Yan here.

At the cavern entrance, two muscular Black men stepped forward to block their path.

Without saying a word, Quentin raised his wrist and swiped his terminal across the access gate. Two deduction notifications popped up.

[Credits -100]

Only then did the guards step aside.

Lu Yan glanced at the entrance with interest. “You need to pay to enter Cavern No. 33?”

But the moment he stepped inside, he understood why.

The air was thick with sickly sweet pink mist—visible to the naked eye. It was none other than the infamous Neural Euphoria Fog.

Looking up, Lu Yan saw a tangle of massive ventilation ducts connecting Cavern No. 33 to the surface. The pink fog was seeping down through them.

“Cavern No. 33 is close to the Lower City’s air transmission system. Universal Conglomerate regularly dumps Neural Euphoria Fog into the system.

“The gangs that run this place rigged up these ducts to siphon the fog directly into the cavern.

“Once the fog’s released, the ducts and enclosed environment make this place flooded with the purest, strongest concentration. It’s way better than the diluted crap the surface folks get.

“For just fifty credits a day, you can breathe it in as much as you want!”

As Quentin spoke, he couldn’t help inhaling deeply, his face lighting up in intoxicated bliss.

All around them were people far worse off than Quentin. Some had collapsed beside the walls near the entrance, mouth agape as they gulped the fog, occasionally twitching to show they weren’t corpses.

Lu Yan’s lips twitched. He raised a foot and kicked Quentin hard in the thigh, breaking him out of his daze.

“Lead the way.”

Snapping out of it, Quentin straightened up.

Amid the swirling pink fog of Neural Euphoria, the two of them strode into the bustling marketplace of Cavern No. 33.

(End of Chapter)