Fang Zhiyi not only sent Li Lie and the other core members out, but even released the trainees who had been spending all day singing in their rooms. Their job was simple—just go out and promote, especially in places with lots of old folks.
“As long as there are people, there’s always money to be made,” Fang Zhiyi said.
Soon, Li Lie brought him a surprise. Li Lie spotted some peripheral members of a cult. With no fixed target to begin with, he simply crouched nearby and watched, jumping forward the moment they left.
With charisma and natural rapport, Li Lie truly lived up to being a core member.
As the second and third new members joined, Wei Wuyang’s workflow became smoother. But he had no choice—Fang Zhiyi had deliberately found a thick stick, as thick as a bowl, to beat him with if he slacked off.
Sometimes, Wei Wuyang felt like crying. All he had wanted was to run his little pyramid scheme quietly and properly, so how had he ended up as a spiritual mentor?
And this Fang Zhiyi definitely had something going on behind the scenes. How did he know the cult’s tricks so well? And, creepiest of all, the moment someone walked in, Fang Zhiyi could tell them everything about their family situation and what they were going through.
The more Wei Wuyang thought about it, the more scared he got, so he just stopped chewing on that question altogether. He couldn’t win in a fight anyway, so he’d take it one step at a time.
But the benefits were obvious. They had intercepted quite a few cult followers. These were all premium targets. Under Wei Wuyang’s brainwashing, with the support of his comrades—no, colleagues—they actually got these people to open up.
In just a few days, they had made a pretty penny from membership fees and donations.
Wei Wuyang had never realized how much money a cult could rake in. Some people didn’t want to go home and offered up their entire life savings to stay. He gleefully reported this to Fang Zhiyi, only to get chewed out.
“I told you to learn from the cult’s model, not to become a cult yourself! Taking people’s fortune like that—do you have a death wish?”
This time, Li Lie sided with Fang Zhiyi. After tailing so many cult members lately, he had also seen how terrifying this “neighbor” was—they drove people to ruin.
Fortunately, Wei Wuyang listened. After getting yelled at, he obediently returned the money and said new members could stay, but would only need to pay for room, board, and tuition.
But with members staying in the house, Wei Wuyang’s life got even tougher. To properly educate these “followers,” Fang Zhiyi forced him to study until midnight every day. Meanwhile, Fang Zhiyi also selected several people from the original core team and trainees to undergo training. He found that while they were stubborn, they weren’t afraid of hard work—after all, they could survive a whole day on just cabbage soup.
A few hundred yards away, in the cult’s compound, the cult leader, Wu Lianggen, was frustrated.
“There have been fewer ‘fat sheep’ lately. Are those peripheral guys slacking off?”
His subordinate rushed to defend themselves.
Wu Lianggen had no idea that just a few hundred meters away, there were “competitors” quietly stealing his business. After all, who would have thought anyone would steal another cult’s followers?
“You say you have a sin? What sin? That scumbag cheated on you—you’re the victim. What sin is yours? Who said you seduced him? Take me there, and I’ll slap his mouth shut!”
“Let’s go! Let’s go, Boss Fang! I’m heading out! Song jian”
“You’re sick? Go to the hospital. Now!”
“What’s your deal? You’re young, and you don’t want to live anymore?”
Before the young man could answer, he got slapped in the face. He glared back, ready to strike.
“Still know how to fight back, huh? Then why don’t you want to live? Are you out of your mind? Perfect—we need a manual laborer here. You’re staying. Start work tomorrow. After a month, tell me if you still want to die.”
Fang Zhiyi paced through the noisy villa, his hands behind his back. To his credit, these newly promoted “masters” each had their own style, and at least the results were showing.
Two people blocked his path: “Master Fang, please advise us. Our business failed, and we really…”
Fang Zhiyi looked them up and down, then waved his hand: “Come on, let’s go to the meditation room.”
They went in first. Li Lie pulled Fang Zhiyi aside: “Boss Fang, these two have no money.”
Fang Zhiyi turned back to look at him: “So?”
“Uh… they lost their house too.”
“Counseling costs nothing. Trust me—people who have known success are more likely to get back on their feet than ordinary folks. Offering help when they’re down is worth it. Even if they don’t bounce back, they’ll at least live a decent life. If they do rise again, we’ll have made a good investment.” Fang Zhiyi patted Li Lie on the shoulder. “Running a business needs a little human touch. Don’t turn yourself into a real cult.”
Li Lie stood there, staring as Fang Zhiyi walked in and closed the door, his face brimming with admiration.
Late into the night, the place finally quieted down.
Xiao Hei looked around hesitantly and then said to Fang Zhiyi, “Um, about this guy…” It pointed at the original owner’s soul, which gazed at Fang Zhiyi mournfully.
Fang Zhiyi glanced at it: “I know. All that mess in his family. I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry—I won’t use your body for nothing.”
He turned and called Li Lie over: “How many downlines do you have now?”
Li Lie was caught off guard: “Boss Fang, you mean… members?”
“Right, right, members.”
“About this many.” Li Lie held up a hand and gestured vaguely, a spark of excitement on his face. “Honestly, once we changed the name, business got a lot easier.”
“Three?” Fang Zhiyi frowned.
“Three hundred! A full three hundred! Boss Fang, you haven’t checked the accounts in days. We’ve collected a ton in membership fees alone. I can’t even imagine how much that cult must be raking in.” Li Lie’s face was full of longing.
“What, thinking of jumping ship?” Fang Zhiyi kicked him straight on.
“No way. I’d never sink to their level, those shameless crooks! Why don’t we just call the police and have them busted?”
“Call the police? They’ll show up and find nothing. You think a cult is that easy to nail?” Fang Zhiyi rolled his eyes. “We need to force them out into the open themselves. Now that we have enough people, it’s time to test your skills.”
Li Lie puffed out his chest: “Boss Fang, just give the orders!”
Fang Zhiyi pulled out his phone, first ignoring the missed call alerts—though he knew without checking, they were all from the original owner’s sour-faced mother. “Take a look at the people in these photos. Then I’ll tell you what to do next.”
Li Lie glanced at the photos, confused, then suddenly his eyes snapped back to Fang Zhiyi, then to the phone, then back again. His eyes bulged wide open: “Boss Fang, is this…”
“Still want to make money?”
“Of course!”
“Then do as I say. Our neighbor should be figuring out about us soon enough.”
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
