Of course, the conclusion they’d reached wasn’t entirely rigorous yet. For example, Su Mingyao could just as easily be the “world-destroying element.” After all, he too was someone who had endured massive ups and downs—his spirit might have been shattered in the process, awakening his Supernatural Ability.
Those Anomalies were almost all clustered around Su Mingyao and Luo Shang, and the person who stood to gain the most was Su Mingyao.
Take the most blatant example: the B City Thunderstorm Incident. If it had been deliberate, who would have had the motive?
Luo Shang had walked away from the Recognition Banquet empty-handed—he was one of the victims, with no reason or incentive to summon a thunderstorm. Su Mingyao, on the other hand, stood to benefit enormously from Li Qingshu’s return. He was the most likely culprit behind that freak weather.
If Roland hadn’t first detected an Anomaly on Luo Shang’s side—if it had been Su Mingyao instead—Su Mingyao would have topped the list of suspects.
But whether it was one of them or the other, neither was someone they could afford to provoke right now.
Once the Think Tank finished their analysis, they let out a collective sigh.
For your run-of-the-mill national-level threats, they could seal them away or keep them under tight control.
The Qin Emperor’s Mausoleum was still a major tourist attraction. The visitors’ vital energy didn’t just fuel the Yin Soldier General’s cultivation—it also served as a natural seal, suppressing the mindless Yin Soldiers buried below and keeping them from breaking free to wreak havoc.
But these were world-ending calamities they were dealing with. Any rash move against them could trigger global annihilation. No one dared act lightly.
All they could do was proceed with utmost caution, keep watching, figure out exactly what was dissatisfying them enough to want to destroy the world… and then quietly eliminate whatever elements might be causing their displeasure.
Given that both Su Mingyao and Luo Shang were tied to the Su Family, the Think Tank decided to start by offering policy support and national backing to the industries where the Su Family did business. It was a subtle way to signal their attention.
The vast gears of the state apparatus began to turn.
~~~
Perhaps someone with overwhelming talent, brute strength, and a bit of luck could claw their way to the top. But those who ultimately claimed the pinnacle were never the brainless sort.
Anyone lacking in intellect—and without some other redeeming quality to compensate—would get weeded out in the early rounds.
Even Luo Shang, back when he was grinding it out in the Reincarnation Space, had taken on missions to help some illegitimate royal offspring seize power. His approach back then? Leverage his superior combat prowess to slaughter every other contender, leaving only his target alive. Mission accomplished.
That changed after he met Ke Yanjin. Ke Yanjin tackled the same kind of tasks, but in a completely different way: through wits and political maneuvering, the kind that left his marks smiling and counting their own coins even as he sold them out.
Those missions typically cropped up in low-tier worlds, where no single individual could overpower the collective. Without that kind of dominating force, it all came down to schemes and power plays.
In higher-tier worlds, where personal power ceilings soared, such missions grew rare. Succession boiled down to raw strength: the strongest took the throne, the best fighter commanded respect. Simple, brutal, efficient.
Once a single person’s might could crush an entire nation, popular support became irrelevant. They could just force everyone into submission.
After reviewing Ke Yanjin’s mission logs, Luo Shang had an epiphany. He developed an alternative strategy: instead of getting his hands dirty with a bloodbath, he’d take the heir as his disciple, teach them the skills to subjugate a nation, and let them conquer it themselves. Sure enough, they ascended the throne.
Ke Yanjin found it exasperating but said nothing more, later seizing opportunities to demonstrate the proper techniques a few times.
It was from him that Luo Shang picked up the basics of political intrigue, evolving from a mindless brute into a thinking one.
The hint he’d dropped this time was straight out of that playbook.
The old Luo Shang—the one who hadn’t met Ke Yanjin—might have just charged in and beaten them into submission. But the current Luo Shang knew how to wield his influence, create the conditions for others to do his bidding. So he’d switched tactics.
Of course, as partners, Ke Yanjin had learned plenty from Luo Shang in turn—like all his sensitive spots, his favorite positions, and so on…
With the hint delivered, things would stay quiet for a good long while. Given the danger he’d put on display, they wouldn’t dare come knocking rashly again.
With this, Luo Shang could continue following the plot without any disturbances.
Aside from the old rivals who might come looking for him from the Reincarnation Space, the national apparatus was probably the biggest obstacle he’d face in this world, Luo Shang mused.
Once he resolved this and made them back off, everything would be much easier from then on.
He glanced at his Plot Progress. Since Su Mingyao hadn’t managed to show up and disrupt him, it had smoothly advanced to 25%. Achieving this in just two days was an outstanding start. Moreover, Luo Shang had successfully tested one thing: he could advance the plot ahead of schedule by taking the initiative with his own actions. From here on, he wouldn’t need to rigidly stick to the timeline. He could get a head start on certain matters.
So…
Luo Shang quickly pulled out his Live-Streaming Phone and called Su Tiancheng, who was away handling business dealings.
“Hello, Father?”
“I heard from Grandpa Shen that you have a meeting with him coming up—one specifically to discuss the engagement between me and Shen Changqing?”
He spoke in a flat tone.
But to Su Tiancheng’s ears, the voice boomed like thunder. For the first time, he resented how advanced modern technology was, letting Luo Shang reach him from thousands of miles away on such short notice.
To dodge this terrifying youngest son of his, Su Tiancheng had caught the earliest flight out the very next morning. Li Qingshu had departed a little later. She had watched to make sure Su Tiancheng truly got away without being stopped before she herself hurried off—using her husband as a guinea pig to test Luo Shang’s intentions.
Before Luo Shang called, Su Tiancheng had been attending a business conference, working to expand the Su family’s operations beyond the province. The meeting had just brought up some breaking news: the nation planned to roll out policy support for the industry the Su family’s business was in, offering aid to a select group of outstanding enterprises.
The announcement was completely out of the blue, freshly issued.
Normally, they’d catch wind of something like this ahead of time. For a major player in business, it was only natural to have connections inside the system. But this time, there hadn’t been even a whisper about such a crucial development. The higher-ups had simply dropped the list and enacted the policy without warning.
And that list of outstanding enterprises? It carried serious weight. Deciding which companies made the cut involved layers upon layers of backroom deals and ruthless scheming before the names were finally locked in.
Su Tiancheng had figured the Su family was out of the running. For one thing, this was out-of-province turf, not B City, and the Su family’s networks and influence didn’t run as deep as the locals’. For another, he hadn’t done any preliminary schmoozing; he’d only shown up to see what the buzz was about.
Who could’ve guessed one of the Su family’s companies would end up on that list?
It was a bolt from the blue—a pie dropping straight from the heavens and the best news Su Tiancheng had received in ages.
With this policy backing, he no longer had to fret over whether the company could keep growing here.
Su Tiancheng was an ambitious man. He dreamed of building the business into a national powerhouse, unshackled from B City limits. Talk about perfect timing—like dozing off and having a pillow handed right to you!
But just as his excitement peaked, in came the call from Luo Shang.
Su Tiancheng: …
Couldn’t he savor the moment for even a few extra seconds?
