Chapter 93: The Heavenly Dao Code

Lower City, Factory Street.

A white prison transport vehicle rolled along the quiet road, its chassis bearing the emblem of the Spiral Tower.

Any pedestrian who caught sight of the symbol instinctively grimaced in disgust, as if seeing something filthy.

It was a Paradise Transport Vehicle, designed specifically to deliver convicts to the Paradise Computing Center. Armed with just four guards wearing exoskeletons and carrying firearms, the security was… underwhelming. For a vehicle carrying such precious “cargo,” it might as well have been plastered with the words “Please Rob Me.”

Yet in a chaotic place like the Lower City, almost no one dared to rob a Paradise Transport Vehicle.

Whether it was worth the risk didn’t matter—because any attack gave the Paradise Computing Center the perfect excuse to round up even more people. They welcomed attacks. They wanted people to try, just to justify more arrests.

Years ago, they’d staged something similar. Using “soul tax evasion” as an excuse, they arrested a few gang leaders from the Lower City and baited their allies into launching a rescue.

What followed was simple: each wave got caught, again and again. In the end, tens of thousands were captured, exceeding the year’s soul compute quota by a wide margin.

As this transport vehicle made its way into a secluded alley, a wave of bone-chilling cold suddenly swept over it.

The auto-navigation went haywire, and the vehicle veered off course, crashing violently into the alley wall. The sound was deafening. The four guards didn’t even have time to scream before the cold engulfed them and snuffed out their lives instantly.

With the vehicle disabled, the life-support pods lost power, and one pair of eyes after another began to open.

A massive, muscular convict smashed through the glass of his pod with a single punch. He climbed out, blinking in confusion at the scene.

“The guards are dead?”

His eyes suddenly lit up, and he growled:

“Perfect. I’ll head to the catacombs instead. Even if they catch me and execute me, it’s better than ending up in that damned computing center!”

Without hesitation, he charged out of the alley.

More and more convicts emerged, breaking free and fleeing in all directions. They didn’t even look back.

But among them was one rather unremarkable-looking man.

Not as tall or muscular as the others, he had also chosen to run—but instead of fleeing toward the catacombs, he made his way to a deserted old factory deep within the Lower City.

Ten minutes later, he reached the factory. Digging through the rubble, he pulled out a small metallic box, no larger than a palm.

Upon seeing it, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Didn’t expect to get out of going to the computing center… Thank god I didn’t toss this thing away.

Whether I can survive in the Lower City now depends entirely on this treasure.”

“Oh? Now I’m curious—what kind of treasure is worth all that sentiment?”

The voice came without warning, sending a chill down his spine.

“Who’s there?! Who said that?!”

From the shadows, Lu Yan stepped forward.

After taking out the Paradise transport vehicle, he had followed the intel Scott provided and locked onto the prisoner—White, a man accused of trafficking forbidden knowledge.

Lu Yan’s original plan was to interrogate him about advanced compiler knowledge, but now it seemed White was hiding something else. So Lu Yan had trailed him all the way.

With no one else around now, there was no need to remain hidden.

What Lu Yan didn’t expect… was what the prisoner blurted out next:

“You’re Brother Lu Yan?!”

Lu Yan paused in surprise, staring at the man in disbelief.

He had been extremely cautious in the cyber version of the world, never revealing his real name—even someone as close as Quentin only knew him as “Mr. Lu.”

And yet, this man… a convicted trafficker of forbidden knowledge, just spoke his name outright.

Meeting Lu Yan’s puzzled gaze, the man suddenly rubbed his face rapidly, and in moments, the golden-haired, blue-eyed mask fell away to reveal a familiar face—

He Dongsheng, the forger cultivator from the Xianxia version!

“He Dongsheng?”

Lu Yan was stunned.

Since arriving in the cyber version, he hadn’t encountered anything even remotely related to the Xianxia world. He had even asked Shack to investigate sects like the Orthodox Dao Sect, Demonic Overlords, the Qingwu Sect, Light Dance Corporation, or Ji Xingyao—none of them existed here.

He had begun to suspect that version updates might be regional. The Xianxia version belonged to the Eastern region, while this cyber version was tied to the Federation—possibly a Western region update.

But now… with He Dongsheng standing before him, that theory suddenly seemed flawed.

“How did you end up here, Brother He? And why were you being sent to the Paradise Computing Center?”

Lu Yan asked calmly.

He Dongsheng rubbed his forehead and sighed helplessly.

“After I received your guidance last time, I went all-in on making antique chips to strike it rich.

Didn’t even get out of the gate before someone stabbed me in the back. Almost ended up sold to some gang boss. Luckily I was quick on my feet and found an excuse to escape.”

“After that, I set up shop in the Central District, selling the fake chips you taught me to make. Made a good bit of money, too.

But I hadn’t enjoyed the credits for long when the damn enforcers caught wind of me—accused me of selling forbidden knowledge!

I tried to explain the chips were fake, I swear! But they wouldn’t believe a word and were ready to ship me off for a 200-year sentence in Paradise.

If it weren’t for whoever hijacked the transport truck… I’d be working 24/7 with my soul drained dry right about now.”

He laughed bitterly at the absurdity of it all.

And Lu Yan finally understood. The “forbidden knowledge” White was accused of selling… was actually fake antique chips. And the forging techniques? All taught by Lu Yan himself in the Xianxia version.

After the version update, the info had somehow carried over—antique forgeries became chip forgeries, and He Dongsheng’s fakes ended up mistaken for legitimate contraband.

That intel was then picked up by Scott… and passed on to Lu Yan.

So he planned a hijacking, hoping to interrogate someone for compiler knowledge… only to accidentally rescue an old acquaintance.

It was a perfect, almost comical full-circle moment. Knowledge he’d shared in one world… had come back in another to trip him up.

“So this compiler knowledge they said you had… was fake too?”

He Dongsheng gave him a look.

“Come on, Brother Lu. You think someone like me could get their hands on something as high-end as advanced compiler knowledge?”

Lu Yan chuckled.

While it was disappointing not to get the knowledge he wanted, there was something oddly comforting about meeting a familiar face in such a twisted, oppressive world.

He Dongsheng’s expression suddenly shifted. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he asked:

“Wait… the guy who hijacked the transport… wasn’t you, was it?”

Lu Yan nodded.

He Dongsheng slapped his thigh.

“That means you’re my savior, Brother Lu!”

As he spoke, he input a code and popped open the metal case. Inside was a thick stack of transmission chips.

Lu Yan now understood—when He Dongsheng said he wanted to “live well in the catacombs,” he really meant going back to selling fakes.

He couldn’t help but twitch at the thought.

After rummaging for a bit, He Dongsheng pulled out one particular chip and handed it to Lu Yan with great reverence.

“You saved my life, Brother Lu. I’m not stingy—take this chip as payment.”

Lu Yan laughed. “Don’t tell me this is just another fake antique chip?”

But He Dongsheng only smiled mysteriously.

“Do you know why the enforcers thought my chips were real?”

Lu Yan raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it just them trying to boost their arrest quotas?”

“Ahem!” He Dongsheng coughed awkwardly. “That’s part of it. But the real reason… is this chip.”

Lu Yan examined it carefully.

He Dongsheng explained:

“This one I made later on, and unlike the others, it contains a genuine piece of energy code.

I found it in an abandoned asylum in the old city—hundreds of years old. It was scribbled all over the walls of a room belonging to a patient named Zhao Huowang.

I copied it down for fun and later embedded it in one of my fake chips… and it somehow passed the cerebrain’s validation system!

Even if the rest of the data is nonsense—just having this segment of code makes the chip appear legit.”

“I tried going back to the asylum to look for more… but right after I left, the place burned to the ground in a mysterious fire.

That’s when I knew—this code is special.”

Lu Yan’s pupils suddenly constricted.

Because he’d heard that name before—

Zhao Huowang, the author of On the Heavenly Dao!

Before Lu Yan could respond, He Dongsheng continued:

“This code is so unique, I gave it a flashy name.”

“The Heavenly Dao Code.”

(End of Chapter)