I, the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon, am being kept by the state.

"stop."

A deep shout came from behind.

Everyone in the square paused in unison, their gun barrels shifted slightly, and their gazes turned toward the source of the sound.

A middle-aged man dressed in a black FBI senior agent uniform strode over.

He was tall and had a resolute face; the badge hanging on his chest reflected a cold light in the sunlight.

"stop."

He repeated it again.

The commander paused for a moment, then quickly recognized the person's identity, and his expression changed.

"Director? You...?"

"You guys go back first."

The man's tone left no room for argument: "I'll speak to Professor Wilson alone."

The commander opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing the director's cold eyes, he ultimately swallowed all his words.

"Yes."

He waved his hand, signaling all the agents to put away their weapons.

Although I was full of doubts, an order is an order.

A group of fully armed agents slowly retreated, lowering their guns but still maintaining a vigilant posture.

Wilson stood in front of the church door, looking at the bureau chief.

After all the FBI personnel left.

The bureau chief finally spoke.

"High Priest, am I not late?"

"No, it's just right."

Wilson said calmly.

The director's name is Jackson, he is 53 years old, and he has worked for the FBI for 27 years.

He's arrested drug dealers, terrorists, and serial killers in his life; he's seen it all.

But three months ago, his wife was diagnosed with late-stage pancreatic cancer.

The doctor said I have at most two months left.

Jackson used all his connections and searched for the best hospitals in the country, but the answer was always the same.

Hopeless.

During that time, he would rush to the hospital every day after get off work, watching his wife lying on the hospital bed grow thinner and thinner day by day, as if his soul had been ripped out.

Until one day, Wilson came to his door.

At the time, Jackson was sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, holding a critical condition notice in his hand, his eyes vacant.

Wilson sat down next to him without saying anything, but simply put his hand on his shoulder.

A warm current flowed into my body.

Jackson looked up abruptly and saw a gentle smile on the face of an unfamiliar old man.

"I can cure your wife's illness."

Jackson initially thought he had encountered a con artist, and with a sneer, he was about to get up and leave.

But Wilson did not stop him, he just left a message.

"I'll be back at this time tomorrow. If you change your mind, I'll be waiting for you here."

The next day, Jackson's wife's condition suddenly worsened, and the doctor gave her an ultimatum.

Tonight is my limit.

Jackson rushed into the hallway like a madman and, sure enough, saw Wilson sitting there.

"Please save her."

Wilson didn't say much and followed Jackson into the ward.

He stood by the bedside for less than three minutes, doing nothing but closing his eyes and placing his hand above Jackson's wife's abdomen.

The fluctuating data on the monitor began to rise again.

The wife, who had been in a coma, opened her eyes.

The doctor rushed in to examine the patient, his face contorted with disbelief.

The tumor has shrunk.

Although the tumor is still there, it is indeed shrinking.

Jackson knelt down.

From that day on, he became one of the most devout believers of the Dragon God.

At that moment, Jackson looked at Wilson with complex emotions in his eyes.

"The order from above is for me to arrest you."

His voice was very soft, "But I came here to ask you a question."

"Ask away."

Do you really believe in that dragon?

Wilson did not answer immediately, but turned to look inside the church.

The believers remained kneeling on the ground, praying devoutly.

"I have spent my whole life studying physics and using science to explain the world."

Wilson spoke slowly, "But the existence of the Dragon God surpasses all my understanding."

He turned around and looked at Jackson.

"Science can't cure your wife's illness. But the Dragon God can."

Jackson remained silent.

He remembered that his wife was still lying at home, not fully recovered, but at least able to get out of bed and walk around.

The doctor said it was a miracle.

But Jackson knew this wasn't a miracle, it was a divine intervention.

"I see."

Jackson took a deep breath. "I'll try to stall for time, but you'd better get out of here as soon as possible."

"No need."

Wilson shook his head. "We're not going anywhere."

Jackson frowned. "Are you crazy? The FBI won't let you get away with this."

"Then let them come."

Wilson’s tone was eerily calm. “I’d like to see what they can do to me.”

......

Northwest, deep in the Gobi Desert.

One hundred and fifty meters underground, inside a top-secret laboratory codenamed "Kunlun".

Qian Youmin, Sun Mingde, and more than a dozen of the country's top scientists gathered around a uniquely shaped device, like the most devout believers.

At the heart of this device is a three-dimensional spherical array etched with complex silver-white lines.

Each intersection of the route is inlaid with tiny jade stones.

It doesn't look like an industrial product; rather, it resembles a work of art imbued with mysticism.

In the center of the array, a tube of pale golden "spiritual liquid" was suspended, emitting a faint glow.

This is the No. 1 Dragon Qi Proliferation Reactor, which they created by expending countless efforts, combining the basic formations taught by the Dragon Lord with the most cutting-edge technology of Blue Star.

"Each unit reports on its preparedness."

Qian Youmin's voice trembled slightly through the internal communication line.

"The energy system is functioning normally."

"The data monitoring system is functioning normally."

"The safety isolation valve has been confirmed."

Replies came one after another.

Qian Youmin took a deep breath, his eyes fixed intently on the screen on the central control console.

"start up."

The instruction has been issued.

hum-

With a soft buzzing sound, the silver-white lines on the spherical array lit up one by one, the light flowing like mercury, and finally all flowing into the spiritual liquid in the center.

The tube of pale golden liquid instantly shone brightly, as if a miniature sun had been born in the laboratory.

"Report! The sparse spiritual energy from the outside world is being drawn in, and its concentration has decreased by 0.01%!"

"Report! Reactor core energy readings are rising exponentially!"

"The spiritual liquid's activity has been activated, and it is resonating with the formation, beginning to autonomously absorb energy from the void!"

The young researcher spoke very quickly, his voice filled with fervor.

Qian Youmin clenched his fists tightly, staring intently at a red curve that suddenly rose on the screen.

Become!

They truly used technological means to harness the immense power of heaven and earth!

This machine is like a black hole of spiritual energy, forcibly extracting, gathering, and multiplying the sparse spiritual energy in the surrounding environment that ordinary people cannot perceive at all!

"Old Qian...we did it..."

Sun Mingde took off his goggles, rubbed his bloodshot eyes, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

They accomplished what only blessed lands and grotto-heavens in cultivation novels could do.

Artificially create an environment rich in spiritual energy.

Just then, on one side of the reactor, a fist-sized transparent crystal connected to wiring began to emit a faint golden light from the inside out.

"Psionic energy solidification and storage successful! Psionic Battery No. 1 charging begins!"

As the crystal grew brighter and brighter, everyone held their breath.

This means that Reiki is no longer an ethereal concept, but a standardized energy that can be stored, transported, and used!

"Old Qian,"

Sun Mingde's breathing became heavy. He pointed to the other end of the laboratory, to the shooting range isolated by special alloy, and said, "Try 'that'."

"That thing" is something they rushed to make overnight based on a bold idea.

A psionic targeted release device.

Qian Youmin remained silent for a moment, glanced at the psionic battery that was already charged to 10%, and then looked at the irrepressible longing in the eyes of his companions around him.

He knew that he would have to take this step sooner or later.

"Prepare for the test."

He said in a deep voice, "Target, composite armor target A-3."

Inside the firing range, a somewhat bulky-looking launcher was slowly aligned by a robotic arm with a one-meter-thick piece of special composite armor used to build aircraft carrier decks.

The transmitter was connected to the psionic battery, which had just been fully charged, via several thick energy conduction lines.

"Power setting is 10%."

Qian Youmin gave the final instructions.

"10%?"

Sun Mingde was taken aback. "Old Qian, is this thing going to work? It's a big machine that can withstand armor-piercing bullets."

Qian Youmin did not answer, but simply waved his hand.

"emission."