The sky over Gongkong City was so pristine, clear, orderly, and beautiful that even the natural skies on Earth could not compare.

Now that technology had advanced to the interstellar age, various unbelievable things, once only seen in dreams or thought of, had all materialized.

Beneath the blue sky, the sound of gunfire in Gray Harbor gradually subsided; the pirate district had been thoroughly purged by the Terran Mercenary Corps. All remaining resistors faced only death. Those left were terrified into submission by the merciless slaughter, now acting meekly toward the new masters of Gray Harbor, keeping their heads down.

After the incident, the mercenary district was outwardly relaxed but inwardly tense. Neither Dennis nor Commander Xie issued any public statement; they merely ordered all their subordinate troops to be fully armed and on standby, instructed not to provoke the Terran Mercenary Corps’ forces, and instead to observe the fall of the pirate district from the sidelines. No one knew what these two commanders were truly thinking.

“The world is unjust, forcing ordinary people to focus only on material wealth while scorning spiritual wealth—what a tragedy. But this is humanity’s own choice. In fact, describing it as original sin is hardly an exaggeration. Even the Bible says that many walk the broad, smooth road that leads to destruction, while few take the rugged path leading to eternal life. The masters of the Nian Neng Temple prioritize the spirit over the material, like picking watermelons and ignoring the sesame seeds. Their need for the sesame seeds is low, unlike mine. I want both the watermelon and the sesame seeds—it’s greed to the extreme.”

Yang Ying mused as he walked into the villa within the manor. A Spectre agent led the way ahead of him, followed by a squad of machine gunners, one of whom carried Herman’s corpse, as the Spectre agent had reported that the vault’s security system included a fingerprint lock requiring Herman’s finger to open it.

Yang Ying slowed his pace, deep in thought. Looking at the soldiers surrounding him, he continued, “However, everything I do is not entirely for myself. The three races on the Floating Continent deserve a grander stage, so there must be a point of convergence with the real world. I have chosen the asteroid belt of the solar system as the convergence point for the Human Race. I still need to find convergence points for the Divine Race and the Zerg Race. But these two races’ convergence points should not be in the solar system; there are already enough disturbances here with the Terrans and the Ancient Legion.”

“Sir?” The leading Spectre agent saw Yang Ying slow down and turned to ask.

“Nothing, just keep moving.” Yang Ying quickened his pace to catch up.

In the last hour, he had ordered the killing of nearly two thousand pirates. Including those killed by other detachments elsewhere, the total likely exceeded five thousand. There were only a few hundred bodies on the lawn outside. He let the blood pool and turn the earth into mire!

Treading through a pool of blood was not fearsome in itself, but as a human, one could not remain unmoved by killing one's own kind.

The faces of those who had died left a profound impression on Yang Ying. As an Awakened, he knew that surviving this encounter would likely make it difficult to forget this scene. Moreover, as he continued his conquests, such memories would only grow more numerous and potent.

In a state of dazed contemplation, Yang Ying arrived at the basement. It was vast and brightly lit, unlike what he had imagined for a pirate boss’s underground lair. He had expected it to be sinister and terrifying, like an execution chamber, perhaps with small cells separated by iron bars holding wrongdoers or kidnap victims, maybe even encountering oppressed beauties or other evil things?

But there was none of that.

Instead, there was only a wide hall, where several corpses lay sprawled. All deaths were caused by large holes blown through vital areas, their faces marked with expressions of surprise, clearly having encountered something incomprehensible before death.

Yang Ying knew these were the pirates who had originally guarded the basement; they had been silently eliminated by the stealthy Spectre agents, leaving them no chance to fight back.

A corridor led from a side door in the hall. Yang Ying walked to the end of the corridor, where stood a door made of European classical style wood, heavy and dark, framed by intricately carved marble, rounded at the top and flat at the bottom. Above, on the ceiling, was a mural depicting angels and blue sky with white clouds.

Looking at this scene, Yang Ying felt an extreme sense of contradiction with reality—an angel mural in a pirate leader’s home!

He recalled: “I remember a master saying that cleansing the soul with vast, open skies is merely some beautiful illusion; after the washing, it remains just as filthy. Only tangible cultivation can allow one to escape the filth of human nature and cross the sea of suffering to the other shore.” Seeing Herman and this mural, Yang Ying’s understanding of this passage deepened significantly.

The darkness within the human heart could not be washed clean by beautiful scenery; even under the pure sky of a space city, people like Herman could still breed.

Behind this door was Herman’s collection room, resembling a small museum. Over a hundred large glass cabinets displayed various exquisite calligraphy, paintings, sculptures, artifacts, swords, armor, and other antiques.

At this moment, one glass cabinet had been moved aside, revealing a small secret passage behind it.

“The vault is at the end of the passage. We have already dismantled the defensive systems that were inside,” the Spectre agent said respectfully.

Originally, this passage was equipped with a series of defenses such as laser, temperature, and weight sensors. Once triggered, several automatic firing guns would activate to eliminate intruders.

Yang Ying nodded and stepped inside, traversing the passage to a small room. On one wall was an imposing, circular alloy door. More than twenty Spectre agents were working to open it.

A control panel near the door had been removed, exposing the circuit board inside. The Spectre agents connected several wires to it, the other ends leading to their wrist-mounted computers—devices that, despite their size, often outperformed certain larger computers.

The Spectre Lieutenant looked up and said, “Sir, you’ve arrived just in time. This door will open shortly. Truthfully, even without this corpse’s finger, it would only have taken about five more minutes.” He took Herman’s body from the machine gunner and pressed a finger onto the fingerprint lock. A soft beep sounded, then he tapped a few times on his computer.

A row of green lights immediately illuminated the circuit board controlling the massive door.

A Spectre agent stepped forward, grasped the rotating wheel on the alloy door, turned it twice, and pulled the door open.

As the door swung inward, a burst of purple light shot out, as if the vault contained a one-hundred-watt purple lightbulb.

Yang Ying looked inside and saw that the source of the purple light was a large pyramid of purple cubes. He stepped forward and picked one up to weigh it.

“Energy Locks. Quite a few,” Yang Ying noted.

Yang Ying’s knowledge now far surpassed when he was in the small asteroid belt. Even faced with a large pile of Energy Locks, estimated to be worth over ten billion in total value, he only offered a slight exclamation.

Yang Ying glanced around. The vault was divided into four compartments by wire mesh. Besides the Energy Locks occupying the first compartment, the second was filled entirely with various gems.

Pirates no longer valued gold highly anymore, as gold mines were not rare in the universe; there were even planets composed entirely of gold. As humanity established trade relations with aliens, vast amounts of cheap gold flooded into the solar system, significantly lowering its price.

Of course, gold was still much more expensive than wood or steel, and ordinary families still couldn't afford furniture made of pure gold. This relatively low price caused gold to shift from being hard currency to a mere metallic material, with various natural gems replacing gold as the standard of hard currency. In chaotic places like the asteroid belt, Energy Locks were even more sought after than gems.

Continuing his inspection, the third compartment held antiques and art: blades, artifacts, and oil paintings. Though the quantity was small, anything Herman kept in the inner vault was clearly far more valuable than what was displayed in the outer collection room!

However, Yang Ying did not understand fine art; his life in both lifetimes had been isolated from it. To him, these items were merely objects of high monetary value.

But when Yang Ying’s gaze fell upon a knight’s single-handed sword, a profound and ethereal feeling surged through his mind, as if the sword possessed an independent consciousness.

“This sword… it is a killing implement, not a work of art.” Yang Ying ignored everything around him, fixing his sight tightly on the blade.

It was a longsword, slender and forged entirely of silver, the edge gleaming as if razor-sharp, giving anyone who saw it an immediate sense of its ability to slice through fine hair. The hilt was inlaid with a diamond, and its length allowed it to be wielded with one hand or gripped with both.

Yang Ying felt the sword yearned to leave the lightless vault, silently pleading for his help. Just as Yang Ying was about to reach out to grip the hilt, he suddenly pulled his hand back.

This abrupt movement puzzled the soldiers behind him; they had never seen their commander pay such close attention to an inanimate object.

“There’s something strange; it’s better to be cautious,” a trace of wariness flashed in Yang Ying’s eyes. He turned to a machine gunner, “Take this longsword out separately and send it back to base. I will study it when I return.”

“Yes, sir.” A machine gunner picked up the sword and walked out. In the machine gunner’s hands, the sword seemed just like any other, showing no abnormality apart from its distinguished appearance.

This confirmed one of Yang Ying’s speculations: the sword reacted to him because he was an Awakened; it had no effect on ordinary people.

The last compartment held large quantities of cash, bearer bonds, and stock certificates. Yang Ying glanced at them briefly before losing interest, instructing the Spectre agents to begin cataloging the total value of everything in the vault.

Minutes later, they reached a preliminary conclusion: the total value of the vault’s contents exceeded twenty-three billion!

The value of the artwork was still a conservative estimate; specific market values would require consulting specialized art galleries or auction houses.

After hearing the report, Yang Ying sighed, “Being a pirate boss makes this much money? No wonder there are so many pirates in the asteroid belt.”

Monthly ticket!