The golden nebula above Galactic Wall Street spun in a vast, silent circle.
Lin Mo stood up from the white dragon-hide sofa. He didn’t even release one percent of his newly awakened Rank 9 Early (Galactic Dao-Lord) aura. Even so, the sheer weight of his presence pressed down on the Supreme Bullion VIP Lounge like a falling star cluster.
Across the room, Managing Director Ao Jin was pinned to his knees on the cracked marble tiles.
Ao Jin’s golden dragon-scale suit groaned under the pressure. A trickle of golden-red blood leaked from his nostrils as his Half-Step Rank 9 cultivation base trembled before a true Rank 9 Galactic Dao-Lord.
Underneath the mahogany coffee table, Audit-Lord Vaelen whimpered and pressed his face flat against the carpet.
Beside the sofa, Old Master Xuan slowly rose from the floor with Grandma Chen’s help.
Thanks to the Chaos-Dragon Nectar and the clearinghouse beam that had shattered Vault #1’s blood-chains, the old turtle’s internal life-force was stable. However, the torn, shell-less skin across his ancient back was still raw and bleeding onto the white diamond tiles.
For a Star-Bearing Xuanwu Turtle Dao-Lord, the ancestral shell wasn’t just armor. It was the physical vessel of his three-million-year Dao-Foundation and the spatial backbone that carried his orphan galaxy across the void.
