“L-Lay them down under the... the urinals?!”
In the middle of World 40’s Grand Market Square, Lord Silver-Tongue’s knees buckled, and he had to grab onto Patriarch Jin’s fat arm to keep from falling flat on his face.
“Mayor Pei! Are you out of your mind?!” Silver-Tongue pointed a shaking, emerald-ringed finger at the hundred-million-ton mountain of sparkling five-colored crystals being scooped up by giant yellow steam-shovels. “Those are High-Grade Royal Spirit Stones! Each one took three thousand years to form inside the deep blood-veins of Planet 50! Every single stone holds enough pure Qi for an ordinary cultivator to meditate for a whole month! Back in the outer sectors, immortal clan elders lock these stones inside nine-layered iron safes and sleep on top of the keys! How dare you use them to pave public toilets?!”
Pei Xuan stopped beside a yellow dump truck, picked up a fist-sized purple Spirit Stone that still bore the carved royal seal of the Blood-Moon Dynasty, and tossed it lightly in his palm.
“Why lock a rock inside a dark safe where it doesn’t help a single living person?” Pei Xuan asked calmly, his voice carrying clearly across the square and into the forty-five-planet live broadcast cameras. “You immortal tyrants and greedy merchants hoard Spirit Stones for three thousand years just so you can force starving miners to trade ten years of their lives for one shiny pebble. In my Dry-Well Kingdom, money is only useful when it buys hot food, warm clothes, and…
