[HOST INTEGRITY: 7%]

[LOCATION: THE YE CLAN ESTATE – GUEST QUARTERS]

[TIME: 2:00 PM]

The adrenaline crash hit Ren like a physical blow.

The moment the Wang Family retreated and the heavy gates of the Ye Estate slammed shut, Ren’s body remembered that it was dying.

His vision blurred. The cold air of the estate, which he had ignored while lecturing the Elders, now felt like knives slicing through his cheap suit.

He slumped onto a wooden bench in the courtyard, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

“Mr. Ren!” Ye Gucheng called out from his wheelchair, his voice surprisingly strong. “We must celebrate! The Ministry Union is established! We should open the 100-year wine!”

“No wine,” Ren whispered, his head hanging low. “Ink.”

“Ink?”

“I need… the official seal… and the trans-spatial fax machine,” Ren gritted out. “The Administration… doesn’t sleep. Neither can we.”

He tried to stand up to walk to the study, but his legs refused. The [CRITICAL: 7%] warning blinked red in his retina. He was freezing to death in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

A shadow fell over him.

Ye Lingshan stood there.

She didn’t ask if he was okay. She didn’t offer a hand to help him up, knowing his pride wouldn’t take it.

Instead, she reached into her robe and pulled out a small, glowing white stone.

It was a Yang-Jade Heater. High-grade. It was worth at least 2,000 coins, and it was the only thing keeping her cultivation from backfiring in this cold environment.

She pressed it into Ren’s freezing hand.

The warmth was instant. It flooded his veins, pushing back the numbness.

Ren looked up at her.

“You need this,” he rasped. “Your meridians aren’t fully stabilized.”

“I have qi,” Ye Lingshan said, her voice flat. “You have nothing.”

She turned away before he could thank her.

“I will bring the seal to the guest room. Don’t die on my patio. It lowers the property value.”

Ren stared at the warm stone in his hand.

He didn’t smile. He just tightened his grip on it, absorbing the heat.

“Inefficient,” he muttered. But he put the stone in his chest pocket, right over his heart.

Thirty minutes later, Ren sat at a desk in the Ye Clan’s library.

The “Trans-Spatial Fax” (a burning bronze brazier that transmitted documents directly to the Administration) was lit.

Ye Gucheng watched nervously as Ren stamped a document with the heavy jade seal of the Ye Clan.

“Are you sure this will work?” the Patriarch asked. “Suing the Administration? It’s unheard of. They usually just execute people for filing paperwork incorrectly.”

“We aren’t suing,” Ren said, dipping his brush in red ink. “We are filing an Emergency Injunction based on Heritage Preservation.”

Ren drafted the final clause rapidly. His calligraphy was sharp, aggressive—the handwriting of a man who had written death sentences for gods.

[PETITION FOR ASSET LIQUIDITY]

[CLAIMANT: THE MINISTRY UNION (YE CLAN & LAST STOP FACTORY)]

[CITE: PRE-ADMINISTRATION STATUTE 744]

[ARGUMENT: The freezing of ‘Last Stop Factory’ assets endangers the financial stability of the ‘Ye Clan’, a registered Ancient Heritage Entity. Under the Heritage Protection Act of 1902, Heritage Entities are immune to third-party liability freezes.]

[DEMAND: IMMEDIATE DISSOLUTION OF ASSET FREEZE ORDER #9901.]

Ren stamped it. THUD.

He threw the paper into the fire.

Green flames consumed it.

“Now we wait,” Ren said.

“For how long?” Ye Gucheng asked. “The Administration usually takes weeks to process—”

DING.

A golden scroll materialized in the air above the brazier. It dropped onto the desk.

Speedy.

The Administration’s AI didn’t have feelings, but it feared contradictions in its own logic. Ren had trapped it. It had to resolve the conflict immediately.

Ren opened the scroll.

[RULING: TEMPORARY INJUNCTION GRANTED.]

[ASSET FREEZE: LIFTED PENDING COURT DATE (30 DAYS).]

[NOTE: JUDGE MORTIS HAS FLAGGED THIS FILE FOR PERSONAL REVIEW.]

Ren exhaled.

“We have money,” Ren said.

He pulled out his phone.

[BANK ALERT: ACCOUNT UNLOCKED]

[BALANCE: 54,000 COINS]

Ren looked at Ye Gucheng. “Patriarch, I suggest you buy some warm clothes. I have a factory to restart.”

The Lights Come On

[LOCATION: LAST STOP FACTORY]

[TIME: 3:00 PM]

Lian was the first to notice.

She was shoveling raw spirit-herbs into the manual furnace, her spectral arms shaking from exhaustion. The factory was dark, hot, and smelled of desperation.

Then—

HUMMM.

A vibration ran through the floor.

The overhead arc-lights flickered, buzzed, and then blazed to life.

The massive conveyor belts groaned and began to roll.

The grinders spun up with a high-pitched whine.

“Power!” a worker shouted. “We have power!”

The ghosts cheered. Some dropped their shovels and hugged each other.

Red Dog burst out of the security office.

“He did it,” the Ogre grinned, showing all his teeth. “The crazy bastard actually sued the government and won.”

Jian sat at his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

“Grid green. Accounts green. We’re operational!”

He grabbed the phone.

“Boss? You there?”

“I’m here,” Ren’s voice came through the speakers, sounding tired but commanding. “Stop celebrating. Production resumes in T-minus ten minutes. We lost a day of profit. I want double shifts.”

“On it!” Jian laughed. “I’ll order the raw materials right now. We need to restock the Black Label ingredients.”

Ren arrived back at the factory an hour later.

He still had the Ye Clan’s heater stone in his pocket, keeping him at a stable 8% Integrity.

He walked onto the production floor, expecting the hum of industry.

Instead, he found silence again.

The lights were on. The machines were running.

But the belts were empty.

Lian stood by the loading dock, looking pale.

Jian was arguing with someone on the phone, slamming his hand against the desk.

“What is the delay?” Ren asked, walking up to them.

Jian hung up the phone. He looked sick.

“Boss… the suppliers.”

“What about them?”

“I called our usual herb merchant for the ‘Soul-Grass’. He said he’s out of stock.”

Jian swallowed.

“So I called the backup. Out of stock.”

“I called the smuggler in the sewers. Out of stock.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “All of them?”

“Someone bought it all,” Lian whispered. “Every ounce of Soul-Grass in Sector 9. They bought it this morning, while we were frozen.”

Ren walked to the loading bay doors and looked out at the smoggy city.

The lights were on, but the factory was dead.

Without ingredients, machines were useless.

Nether-Core expected him to win the legal battle.

So they didn’t fight the Law.

They fought the Market.

“A Non-Compete clause,” Ren murmured. “Enforced by a monopoly on raw materials.”

“Who bought it?” Red Dog growled, cracking his knuckles. “Give me a name. I’ll go break their legs.”

“You can’t break a corporation’s legs,” Ren said coldly. “Nether-Core didn’t just buy the grass. They bought the rights to the grass.”

Ren reached into his pocket and touched the warm stone.

He had political immunity. He had money.

But now, he had no product.

“Fine,” Ren said, his green eyes glowing in the reflection of the glass.

“If they want to play Market denial…”

He turned to Jian.

“Get me the file on the Lu Clan.”

Jian blinked. “The Lu Clan? The Formation Masters? They went bankrupt ten years ago. They are slaves to the Smithing Guild now.”

“Exactly,” Ren smiled. It was a cruel smile.

“Nether-Core blocked our biological supply chain.”

“So we are going to switch industries.”

“We aren’t making incense anymore?” Lian asked, confused.

“Oh, we will,” Ren said. “But first… we are going to build a Synthesizer.”

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[NEW OBJECTIVE: BREAK THE SUPPLY BLOCKADE]

[TARGET ACQUISITION: THE LU CLAN (ENSLAVED)]

[WAR STATUS: ECONOMIC]

Author’s Note:

Nether-Core thought they checkmated him. They forgot that Ren Wu doesn’t play Chess. He plays Monopoly, and he just decided to buy the railroads.

Enjoying the corporate warfare? Add to Library to see Ren Wu acquire his next subsidiary!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep