No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

When the armed patrol unit arrived, Zhang Yu, Bai Zhenzhen, and Yue Jincheng all immediately froze, hands raised high to show they had no intention of continuing the fight.

Around them, streaks of swordlight sliced through the air.

Those streaks of light were like lightning bolts vibrating at high speed, and the chilling sword aura they exuded made Zhang Yu’s skin sting across his face and hands.

Zhang Yu thought to himself, ”Are those military-grade flying swords?”

He knew the difference well. Unlike the civilian models he’d seen before, these flying swords—issued exclusively to patrol unit enforcers—could condense their aura into dazzling swordlight, growing or shrinking at will, stretching or retracting like a living blade.

Zhang Yu mused, ”If these military-grade flying swords went off, cutting us down would be like slicing tofu.”

Meanwhile, four patrol officers in full tactical gear floated overhead.

Zhang Yu only needed a glance to feel the heat radiating off them—like four furnaces hovering above.

”Must be military-grade combat techniques.”

He continued to think, ”Military-grade flying swords and combat techniques… Even veteran Qi Refinement cultivators like Lei Jun and Wang Hai, with decades under their belts, would probably be wiped out in a single move.”And this was just the local enforcement unit of the Inspectorate Department—one of the Eight Divine Ministries—stationed in the outskirts of Songyang City, on the first floor of Kunxu.

Zhang Yu sighed inwardly, ”It’s because the Ten Major Sects strictly regulate access to military-grade techniques, Law Husks, and artifacts… that even high schoolers, college students, wage slaves, and the rich all have to follow their rules.”

”At the end of the day, brute force is still one of the core pillars behind all social order.”

Meanwhile, Yue Jincheng stood extra still, not daring to move a muscle.

As a corporate security guard, the very first lesson of Yue Jincheng’s training was: never engage in combat with government or divine officials.

Especially the armed ones. Their military-grade gear was in a league of its own—nothing a corporate flunky could hope to survive.

If injured or killed during such an incident, there’d be no compensation, no death benefits. The company wouldn’t pay a single coin.

So Yue Jincheng stood frozen, not even daring to make any suspicious gestures.

He’d heard of people who just waved a hand or reached into a pocket, only to get skewered by flying swords under suspicion of resistance.

A moment later, one of the armed officers scanned the trio with a silver gleam in his eyes.

Then he looked at Zhang Yu and said, ”You used the Thunderclap Sigil?”

Zhang Yu immediately pointed at Yue Jincheng. ”He stole my—”

The officer cut him off with a wave. ”I’m not asking about the case. We’ll get to that later. I’m asking you to pay the call-out fee first.”

”What?”

What did that mean?

You have to pay up before they’ll enforce the law?

Even after a year in Kunxu, Zhang Yu was still shocked.

The officer—his name tag read Gong Zhe—snorted. ”What do you mean ’what’? If you can’t pay the call-out fee, we’re out. You can call a regular constable and wait your turn.”

After an incident where a patrol unit was dispatched and the reporting party couldn’t afford the premium Thunderclap Sigil service fee, the Inspectorate Department had moved to a ”pay first, enforce later” model.

Hearing this, Yue Jincheng looked hopefully at Zhang Yu, praying the guy couldn’t afford it.

He muttered internally, ”Zhang Yu’s broke. What if he really can’t pay?”

But under everyone’s gaze, Zhang Yu took out his phone. ”I’ll pay.”

A Thunderclap Sigil dispatch started at 10,000 yuan, and Zhang Yu had prepared for this. He obediently tapped through the payment screen.

Once the 10,000 yuan showed up on the system, Gong Zhe nodded approvingly, his gaze toward Zhang Yu turning notably friendlier.

Zhang Yu wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the four patrol officers above suddenly looked sharper, prouder—more pumped up—after he’d paid.

Gong Zhe puffed out his chest. ”Greetings, esteemed premium Thunderclap Sigil client. I’m Gong Zhe, patrol officer from District 7, Songyang City.”

”Please describe the incident.”

The four officers looked at Zhang Yu with barely concealed anticipation, thinking, Kidnapping? Murder? Corporate war? Tax evasion?

”When’s the last time we had a real job?”

”Please let this be worth millions…”

Their desperation was understandable. Over the years, armed officers like them had seen their income plummet.

Gong Zhe often sighed, ”Peace and order, huh? Everyone’s scheming now—no one wants to fight. How the hell are combat officers like us supposed to hit our performance metrics? We clock out on the dot every day, and there’s not even overtime anymore. Just side gigs, clerical work… barely surviving.”

Now, all four officers stared at Zhang Yu, silently begging him to give them something big.

Zhang Yu pointed at Yue Jincheng. ”He tried to steal my phone. When I caught him, he ran. My classmate and I tried to stop him, and he attacked us instead.”

Gong Zhe went silent for a beat. Then asked, ”That’s it?”

That’s what you called us for—with a Thunderclap Sigil?

The team’s morale instantly deflated.

Gong Zhe said blandly, ”Alright. Time to settle the next payment.”

Zhang Yu glanced at the bill—8,000 yuan—and couldn’t help asking, ”Eight thousand? You just flew over. Didn’t even fight.”

Gong Zhe gave him a cold look. ”This is a protected zone. You think we don’t pay entrance fees, breathing surcharges, or breathing technique licenses?”

”Plus, we’ve got to escort you back, take statements, collect evidence… You think that’s not labor?”

Zhang Yu sighed and paid 5,000 yuan, then turned to Bai Zhenzhen. ”Ah-Zhen, I’m out. Can you cover the last 3,000?”

The four officers looked more and more disappointed.

Seriously? This broke? Why not just call a regular constable?

After collecting the payment, Gong Zhe said, ”Alright. The three of you—come with us.”

…

Soon after, Zhang Yu and company arrived at a patrol station on the outskirts of Songyang City.

As the reporting party, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were taken to an office in the case-processing area.

Gong Zhe said flatly, ”Wait here. Someone will be along to question you.”

Zhang Yu added, ”By the way, he had an accomplice who ran before you arrived. You might be able to find him from nearby surveillance or ticket records—”

Gong Zhe cut him off with a frown. ”We’ve got our own methods. Don’t need you telling us how to do our jobs.”

He really couldn’t be bothered with such petty cases. He’d rather use the time for a side gig and make more cash.

After Gong Zhe left, Bai Zhenzhen glanced at the surveillance camera and stayed silent.

Zhang Yu opened his phone and sent an update to Deng Bingding of the Sifang Wandering Gods.

Unlike the oversimplified theft story he’d told Gong Zhe, this time Zhang Yu included his suspicions—that the thief had been following him, filming him while he trained, maybe even investigating his participation in the Foundation Establishment exam.

Obviously, that kind of sensitive info wasn’t something he could tell the patrol team.

Deng Bingding replied with three thumbs-up emojis.

Zhang Yu was confused. ”What does that mean? Is she helping or not?”

Fu Ji chuckled inside their minds. ”In my experience with the Righteous Gods, three thumbs-up is pretty high praise. The next level would be three fireworks emojis.”

”It’s all divine slang. You’ll pick it up eventually.”

Zhang Yu then messaged Yun Ni, explaining the whole story.

Yun Ni replied:

”Which patrol station?”

”I’ll find someone I know.”

”Did you get a medical evaluation?”

”If you want compensation, what’s your ideal number?”

Zhang Yu looked at her messages and realized she was treating the whole case like a basic mugging or brawl, and teaching him how to negotiate a higher payout.

Ten minutes later, while Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were cultivating as they waited, Gong Zhe returned to the office.

This time, he had a smile.

”If your team leader Yun Ni hadn’t contacted me, I wouldn’t have known you two were from the patrol division. Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

”I’m pretty close with Yun Ni—had dinner just last month.”

Now that Yun Ni had called in a favor, Gong Zhe’s demeanor softened noticeably.

”You two don’t have to worry. You’re clearly the victims here.”

”I’ll have someone take your statements and you’ll be free to go.”

”As for that guy—trying to attack divine support personnel in broad daylight? He’s finished. He’ll pay dearly.”

With that, Gong Zhe left again.

Zhang Yu was a little surprised. ”Looks like Yun Ni’s pretty well connected in Songyang.”

But this time, Gong Zhe didn’t return for over half an hour.

Zhang Yu grew impatient and moved to step out—only to find the office door locked.

At the same time, Bai Zhenzhen called out, ”Yuzi! Look!”

Zhang Yu followed her gaze to the office window—and saw Yue Jincheng, accompanied by several patrol officers, strutting out of the building.

Bai Zhenzhen gasped, ”They’re letting him go?”

As if sensing their gaze, Yue Jincheng looked back at them through the glass… smiled faintly… then turned and walked away.