Chapter Fifty: The Virtual Realm

"My sister is busy, but I’d like to go myself. So, Xiao Meng, wait for my message, I’m a bit tied up these days," said Song Yue.

"By the way, about Grandmaster Miao..." Meng Xudong was actually quite anxious. Although Grandmaster Miao and his family were currently living at his estate, and some had begun using the Elite Martial Hall to train, with the younger ones slowly attempting to integrate into modern society, they still didn’t truly belong to the Elite Martial Hall.

He had good reason to believe that once others noticed this group, they’d soon try to snatch them away. After all, a group of warriors raised in secret realms, unfamiliar with modern society but exceptional in every other way, would be welcomed anywhere.

Luckily, Zhang Jian was dead. If he were alive, Star Martial Hall would have already started recruiting them.

"Today... won’t work," Song Yue remembered Zhu Jia mentioning a small welcome gathering at work tonight for him and Old Wolf. "Tomorrow morning, then. I’ll know by tonight if I’m heading to the Western Secret Realm."

"Alright, you’d better keep your word this time—tomorrow!" Meng Xudong confirmed with Song Yue before hanging up with relief.

"You’ve got connections, huh? I struggled to get a single ticket, and here you are, someone just hands it to you? But Song Yue, what have you been busy with lately? Weren’t you supposed to be an idle, unemployed bum?" Xiao Qi asked curiously.

"You’re the bum! Your brother now has a real job! Official status, with full benefits! Wait, what’s my rank again?" Song Yue planned to ask Zhu Jia later, maybe he was even a division-level cadre...

Xiao Qi rolled her eyes, tossed out a "I’ll be back to sleep tonight," and left.

Song Yue didn’t press further; everyone has small secrets they’d rather not share.

He called his mentor, told him about the Western Secret Realm, and after a moment’s thought, his mentor agreed.

Since the fledgling must learn to fly, whether it soars high or stays low is up to its own will.

Song Yue asked about his mentor’s health, and as expected, was told there was nothing to worry about.

"Old ailments—just need some rest."

Hanging up, Song Yue felt both sad and helpless. His master was too dismissive; if it were just something that could heal with rest, it wouldn’t be an old ailment. Still, he realized he probably couldn’t help, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

He might as well quietly improve his own strength.

The Taiyi Body Refining Scripture and the Celestial Sovereign Mind Technique had brought such profound changes! They greatly boosted his confidence and resolve.

Before, claiming he’d become a Martial Saint someday was just a lofty dream, like a child declaring they’d be a scientist or astronaut. Now, when he said it, it was more than a dream—it was a tangible goal that might actually be achieved.

As usual, Song Yue started his training in the courtyard. The stone locks he used to struggle with for over ten minutes felt light in his hands now.

He’d add another fifty kilos to each next time.

On second thought, that would require custom orders. The Elite Martial Hall probably had more advanced equipment.

He trained all morning, worked up a sweat, and was about to shower and report to the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs when he received a call from Wen Rou.

"Brother, thank you!"

Wen Rou’s voice was soft and sweet.

Song Yue laughed, "What are you thanking me for? Take it and practice. If it’s not enough, there’s more!"

He wasn’t boasting now; he’d mastered the method to enter the Kunlun Secret Realm. He couldn’t promise major foundational elixirs, but for Qi-nourishing herbs, the realm was full of them!

"Such precious herbs shouldn’t be wasted on practice. They produce excellent pills. Once I’ve refined them, I’ll bring you some," Wen Rou promised.

"I’ll be waiting," Song Yue replied.

They chatted casually for a bit, and Wen Rou told him that Sister Xue had successfully established her foundation, her tone tinged with envy.

Song Yue recalled that Qian Qianxue had obtained a Foundation Establishment pill from the underground palace. He wondered if Wen Rou could get one too. He’d find an opportunity to take her inside.

Wen Rou had always been good to him; one must know gratitude and repay kindness.

After hanging up, Song Yue washed up, changed, and wore the black and red armor underneath his clothes. It was a lifesaver in emergencies and had to be worn.

He arrived at the Hangzhou branch of the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs, entered his old, shabby office, where Old Wolf was sitting with his legs crossed, sipping tea and reading the paper.

Seeing him enter, Old Wolf peered over his drooping glasses, "Kid, you’re late!"

"Uncle Wolf, those glasses aren’t prescription, are they?" Song Yue doubted a fierce wolf demon needed reading glasses.

"Just for show," Old Wolf said blandly. "Makes me look cultured."

"…"

Song Yue arrived around noon. Soon after, the round-faced Zhu Jia called him and Old Wolf for lunch.

At the canteen, the rich aroma of meat greeted them from afar.

Old Wolf swallowed, whispering to Song Yue, "You know, the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs is loaded!"

Song Yue nodded, having witnessed it yesterday.

The storeroom was filled with dazzling equipment, any piece worth a fortune outside.

Even the simplest energy beam gun was valued at three million at the secret base; the rest was unimaginable.

Zhu Jia, with her sharp ears, heard Old Wolf and laughed, "If you measure by worldly standards, we’re pretty wealthy. When handling anomalies, eighty percent of all confiscated items go to the department, twenty percent is handed over."

Song Yue didn’t think much, but Old Wolf sucked in a breath, "Isn’t that just like the Western Depot?"

Immense power, high status, and keeping most seized assets—truly wealthy!

Zhu Jia glanced at Old Wolf, "Consultant Wolf, we’re not eunuchs!"

Song Yue seized the chance, "Sister, do we have official ranks?"

Zhu Jia paused, "What kind of ranks? Oh, you mean government ranks?"

Song Yue nodded.

Zhu Jia smiled at him, "Yes, I’m currently at the full division level!"

Song Yue inwardly scoffed; such a minor rank, what’s there to be happy about?

"But you don’t have one yet," Zhu Jia said.

"…"

Well, not even a minor rank for me.

Song Yue felt a bit dejected and glanced at Old Wolf, who was snickering. "What about Uncle Wolf?"

"Consultant Wolf is probably at the department head level," Zhu Jia explained. "Don’t worry too much about ranks—they’re not that useful for us. Most of the time, it’s not recommended, but if needed, just show your identity and you can practically outrank any official. People are quite… respectful to our people."

She actually meant ‘fearful,’ and while she didn’t agree with Old Wolf’s ‘Western Depot’ analogy, there was some truth to it.

They mainly dealt with unruly demons and those with demonic blood; only rarely did they handle other matters.

No wonder Old Wolf was so proud—such a high rank?

Song Yue felt he should quickly achieve something to raise his rank. That way, he’d have more confidence bragging outside.

Have you ever seen a vice-county-level official so young?

That would feel fantastic.

The three entered the canteen; apart from a few chefs, there were almost no diners.

The bearded branch leader Zhao Peng was nowhere to be seen.

Zhu Jia taught Song Yue and Old Wolf how to use iris recognition to get food, and like them, her tray was piled high.

Facing their odd stares, Zhu Jia explained, "I’m a cultivator but also practice martial arts—a half-warrior!"

Just admit to having a large appetite; what’s the big deal? It’s not like I’d marry such a bottomless pit, Song Yue thought.

Though it was a canteen, the chefs’ skills were superb and the food delicious. The key was the ingredients!

Not only fresh, but top quality.

Even though Aunt Wang handled the shopping at home, Song Yue had gone along a few times. The special food for warriors was outrageously expensive—ten times the price of ordinary beef and lamb!

So, for a child from a poor family to become a warrior was truly difficult.

Just affording the food was hard enough.

Thus, even those who took the warrior path rarely made it far, perhaps never reaching the grandmaster realm.

"We don’t pay for meals here, do we?" Song Yue asked, feeling a bit guilty.

Zhu Jia nearly choked on her meat, glared at him, "Eat—what’s money for?"

One chef laughed, "Eat as much as you like, get more if it’s not enough!"

That’s great!

Song Yue wasted no time, piled his tray even higher.

Zhu Jia, exasperated, gave Song Yue’s tray a silent thumbs up.

A half-warrior simply couldn’t compete with a full one.

After the meal, Song Yue asked Zhu Jia, "Can we take leave?"

Old Wolf couldn’t help but say, "First day, you’re late, show up at noon, and now you want leave?"

He felt young people these days weren’t taking work seriously, even he, who spent his time sipping tea and reading the paper, found it hard to watch.

But Zhu Jia just blinked and asked, "You have something to do?"

Song Yue nodded, "I want to visit the West, there’s a secret realm opening."

Just as Old Wolf expected Zhu Jia to refuse, her round face showed understanding, "Oh, alright, go ahead."

Old Wolf suddenly lost interest in tea and paper, feeling his high regard for the Bureau was collapsing.

"You can do that?" he asked.

"Yes, you’re a special consultant; actually, you don’t even need to show up. Just come when you’re needed," Zhu Jia replied, smiling.

"Well then," Old Wolf stood, brushed off imaginary dust, and left. "I’m off."

Zhu Jia: "…"

She chased after him, "There’s a welcome banquet tonight!"

Old Wolf, already at the corridor’s end, waved without looking back, "Forget it, someone of my rank would make you uncomfortable. Let the youngsters have fun!"

Zhu Jia returned to Song Yue’s office, muttering, "Shouldn’t have told him!"

"He really left?" Song Yue asked.

Zhu Jia nodded, "It’s fine, he won’t participate. Some people aren’t comfortable around demons anyway."

Song Yue wanted to defend Old Wolf—he wasn’t bad—but reconsidered. The prejudice in people’s hearts is like a mountain, hard to move.

That evening, Zhu Jia led Song Yue out of the office building and into a nearby alley.

"It’s close, we won’t bother riding," Zhu Jia said as they walked.

Song Yue thought, all the better.

After seven or eight minutes, they arrived at a somewhat shabby old building, its entrance lined with luxurious cars.

Song Yue didn’t know much about cars, but could tell these were expensive.

"Business is booming here?" he asked, puzzled by the three-story old building.

"It’s alright. Those cars are all ours," Zhu Jia said nonchalantly.

So wealthy!

Song Yue couldn’t help but marvel.

He hadn’t even asked Zhu Jia’s monthly salary; she seemed to have forgotten to tell him. When they did iris recognition earlier, she’d just mentioned the salary would be credited monthly.

They entered the old building, and Song Yue found it surprisingly spacious inside. It resembled a music bar: a hall with a dozen tables, but in the center stood thick tree trunks topped with small wooden houses, connected by bridge-like walkways—quite ingeniously designed.

The hall wasn’t crowded. Zhu Jia took Song Yue upstairs to a large private room, where a dozen people were already seated.

This was Song Yue’s first time meeting so many "colleagues," including the rainbow punk, Lu Xiaohong.

As they entered, a few people glanced over, some greeted Zhu Jia, others quickly returned to their conversations or phones.

Not very friendly, it seemed.

Song Yue and Zhu Jia found two adjacent seats, with Song Yue sitting between Zhu Jia and a man who looked to be thirty-seven or thirty-eight.

The man’s face was pale, eyes sunken, and dark circles prominent, giving off a vibe of excessive nightlife.

He sized up Song Yue and asked, "You’re the newbie who got in through connections?"

Song Yue looked at him, "Hello, senior. I’m the newbie who got in on merit."

Zhu Jia warned, "Fang Ming, don’t bully the new guy like Lu Xiaohong."

Fang Ming scoffed, "Who’s copying him? Can’t comment on someone who got in through connections?"

Song Yue remained unruffled; he knew that words were useless here. Respect was earned by actions, not talk.

Besides, he was with Zhu Jia, and if these people weren’t friendly, he’d simply ignore them.

Just then, bearded department head Zhao Peng finally arrived. The group stood and greeted him, showing clear respect.

"Sit, sit," Zhao Peng smiled, motioning everyone to sit. He looked at Song Yue, nodded, "Let me introduce our new colleague—this young man, Song Yue, a martial arts practitioner."

"Just a warrior, huh?" scoffed a young man across from Song Yue, barely in his twenties, speaking with an upward tilt of his eyelids, exuding arrogance.

"Warrior? Oh, I see—you all think he got in through connections?" Zhao Peng wasn’t annoyed by skepticism, but smiled, "Let’s do this—after dinner tonight, don’t leave. We’ll head back and spar in virtual space."

Virtual space?

Song Yue’s eyes lit up; he’d heard about it but never tried it.

It was said to be alien technology; one could enter a holographic world through special devices, much like the full-immersion games people used to imagine.

In the real virtual space, one could experience sensations almost identical to the outside world.

Some underground companies used it for shady business, and many people were addicted.

For Song Yue, the greatest benefit was being able to fight without restraint.

The arrogant young man said, "Great! Haven’t bullied anyone in ages!"

Rainbow punk Lu Xiaohong said, "I’ll go first."

The young man retorted, "Why you first?"

Lu Xiaohong replied, "I booked yesterday!"

Song Yue wondered when he’d made any such arrangement.

Others at the table chimed in.

"Count me in!"

"I want to stretch my muscles too!"

"Haven’t bullied anyone in a while!"

Song Yue’s expression was blank.

So, they all thought he was an easy target?

Fine, interesting!

Seeing their excitement, should he go a bit harder on them later?

The pain in virtual space could be adjusted to a minimum—even dying wasn’t that painful, right?

He’d never tried it, but it surely must be like that!

Song Yue’s face betrayed nothing, but inside, anticipation was mounting.

He wasn’t even paying much attention to dinner anymore.

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One chapter today, aiming for an explosive day tomorrow.