Dawn had not yet broken over Galactic Wall Street, but the vacuum of space was already glowing bright gold.
Lin Mo stood on the eighty-eighth-floor balcony of Bullion Tower, holding a warm mug of roasted barley tea.
Behind him, Su Wan smoothed her charcoal pencil skirt and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses. She held a glowing holographic clipboard in both hands. Her eyebrows were slightly raised.
“Chairman, we have a minor logistical situation,” Su Wan said in her calm, measured voice.
“A minor situation usually means somebody brought a star-fleet,” Lin Mo replied dryly. “Did another usury vault try to shoot torpedoes at our cafeteria?”
“No, sir,” Su Wan said, shaking her head. “It is the opposite. The three thousand Great Dao Sects have mobilized every transport vessel, spirit cruiser, and flying carriage in their arsenals. They are not carrying weapons. They are carrying employment applications.”
Lin Mo raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward to the balcony railing and looked out into the void.
The sight before him stretched past the limits of normal optical vision.
