Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

The icy rain, mixed with the mud and sand from the asphalt road, relentlessly poured into Chen Beixuan's mouth and nose. He lay in the deep crater he had smashed himself into, staring blankly at the silver handcuffs on his wrists that reflected the searchlight beam. Deep within his mind, it was as if a towering pagoda called "The Path to Immortality" was collapsing with a deafening roar.

"Impossible... This is absolutely impossible..."

Chen Beixuan's lips trembled violently, his eyes unfocused like those of a mental patient who had just been electrocuted. He muttered to himself, his voice filled with despair and madness after his faith had been utterly crushed, repeating only a few broken phrases over and over.

"My Nine Heavens Profound Thunder... that's the might of the Heavenly Dao, the ultimate killing move of a Nascent Soul cultivator at the Great Perfection stage! That's the majestic might of Heaven capable of destroying cities! How could it... how could it be broken by a few rusty iron rods?"

He couldn't understand it. He had secluded himself for five hundred years, comprehending the workings of heaven and earth, believing himself to have transcended the Three Realms and escaped the Five Elements. Yet the heavenly tribulation he had summoned, risking half his life and burning his life essence, had unexpectedly deviated from its expected course, instead turning to chop down a few iron rods? This was the greatest mockery of his five hundred years of arduous cultivation!

Lu Jingyan stood by the muddy ditch, holding a black umbrella. He bent down slightly and gently patted Chen Beixuan's face, which was covered in blood and mud, with his white-gloved hand.

"Are you a little more awake, Immortal Chen?"

Lu Jingyan's tone was as calm as if he were giving a work summary to an intern, and every word precisely hit Chen Beixuan's breaking nerves, "That's not some rusty iron rod, that's a super-large industrial-grade oxygen-free copper lightning rod that is standard equipment for the State Grid. No matter how powerful your lightning is, it still has to abide by the most basic laws of physics for electrical discharge."

Chen Beixuan stared intently at the mortal before him, who possessed no cultivation whatsoever, hissing like a wild beast. He wanted to refute, to use his true energy to shatter this blasphemous fellow, but his body was now completely empty, and the excruciating pain from his broken meridians made even moving a finger a luxury.

"Your act of damaging the city's main power grid not only constitutes the crime of provoking trouble, but also the crime of endangering public safety by dangerous means."

Lu Jingyan straightened up, looking down at him like the Grim Reaper delivering a verdict. "As for those lightning bolts you went through so much trouble to attract, I've checked them, the voltage is indeed quite high. Consider it payment for the electricity bill and infrastructure maintenance fine to the municipal power supply bureau."

Paying the electricity bill?

These three words were like the last straw that broke the camel's back. The mighty, arrogant king of the cultivation world, the Nine Heavens Immortal Venerable who once shattered a galaxy with a single sword strike—his world-destroying tribulation, which he was so proud of, was seen by modern law enforcement as nothing more than a way to generate electricity for the city?!

"puff--"

Overwhelmed with anger and frustration, Chen Beixuan tilted his head back and spat out another mouthful of black blood. His eyes rolled back, and in extreme humiliation and utter despair, he promptly fainted.

"Take him away and send him to the hospital for a full check-up. Don't let him die on the way."

Lu Jingyan folded his umbrella and waved to Zhao Tiezhu and the others behind him. "By the way, notify the provincial department to activate the zero-detention contingency plan. This Mr. Chen is rather special; he probably won't be able to be held in an ordinary detention center."

Several SWAT officers rushed down into the pit like wolves and dragged the unconscious Chen Beixuan up like a sack of potatoes. Zhao Tiezhu looked at the limp "Immortal Venerable" in his hand and couldn't help but spit: "I thought he was so good at fighting, but his physical fitness is not even as strong as that big-eater blogger we caught at the convention center the other day."

Two hours later, ninety meters underground at the Provincial Public Security Bureau.

This is a "special heavy prison" secretly built by the provincial department at great expense to deal with the increasingly frequent supernatural events. All four walls are made of half-meter-thick special high-strength lead steel alloy, all cell doors are explosion-proof airtight doors, and even the ventilation ducts are equipped with high-voltage electric grids and microwave jammers.

When Chen Beixuan slowly regained consciousness, he found that his tattered blue robe had been stripped off, and he had been dressed in a strikingly bright orange prison uniform. A string of black numbers, 09527, was clearly printed on his chest.

He wore specially made alloy shackles weighing several tens of kilograms on his wrists and ankles. The shackles seemed to have some kind of strange magnetic field generator embedded inside. Whenever he tried to mobilize the pitiful amount of remaining true energy in his dantian, the shackles would release a strong electric current, causing him to convulse all over.

"You bunch of mortals! How dare you insult me ​​like this!"

Chen Beixuan staggered to his feet, dragging the heavy chains as he lunged at the thick tempered glass door, raging helplessly at the prison guards in the corridor outside. He pounded on the glass, his once deep, starry eyes now filled only with madness and humiliation.

"I am Chen Beixuan! I am a Nascent Soul Immortal Venerable! Once I recover my cultivation, I will uproot this entire building! I will annihilate your souls and spirits!"

The prison guards escorting him didn't even bother to glance at him; they'd seen far too many of these delusional lunatics who'd just been brought in. The guard expressionlessly swiped his access card on the electronic panel on the wall and coldly uttered two words.

"Go inside."

With a heavy mechanical creak, a heavy alloy iron door slowly opened. The prison guard gave Chen Beixuan a shove from behind, causing the unbalanced cultivator to stumble and fall into his cell.

"Clang!"

The iron gate slammed shut behind him mercilessly, the sound of the lock echoing in the empty underground corridor, completely severing his connection with the outside world.

Chen Beixuan lay sprawled on the cold cement floor, panting heavily. The air here was devoid of any spiritual energy, so dry it made his throat ache. He gritted his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain of his ruptured meridians, and slowly crawled to his feet, supporting himself with his hands on the ground.

"A tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs... Once I find the flaw in this formation, I will surely wash this place in blood!"

As he uttered these harsh words, he looked up, preparing to survey the "hell" that imprisoned him. He had imagined it to be a dark, damp water dungeon filled with various instruments of torture.

However, when he saw the scene inside the cell, he was instantly stunned.

This was an unusually spacious cell. There was no chilling wind, only the bright, almost blinding, LED fluorescent lights overhead. Four neatly arranged bunk beds were placed against the wall, and there was a separate squat toilet in the corner.

But this is not the point.

The key point is that in this cell, which should be filled with violence and despair for hardened criminals, three men are squatting there in perfect harmony.

The man on the left has a neat buzz cut and a handsome face, yet his features exude an unyielding melancholy. He holds a rag in his hand and is meticulously wiping the railings of the iron bunk bed until they shine brighter than a mirror.

The man in the middle was burly, his muscles bulging out of his orange prison uniform. He was lying on the ground, hands on the ground, doing a perfect one-handed push-up, sweat dripping down his resolute face.

The one on the right sat cross-legged on the lower bunk, holding half a dry, half-eaten bun. He stared at the exhaust fan outside the iron window with a weary look in his eyes, seemingly humming some unknown, off-key tune.

Hearing the iron gate close, the three men simultaneously stopped what they were doing, turned around in unison, and looked at Chen Beixuan, who was standing in the doorway looking disheveled.

Four people.

Four pairs of eyes.

In this underground prison, which was tightly sealed by high technology, a historic meeting full of dark humor took place.

Gu Yanchen, who was wiping the bed, stopped wiping and pushed up his non-existent gold-rimmed glasses. He looked Chen Beixuan up and down in his standard orange prison uniform and heavy shackles, a bitter smile of someone who had been through it all curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, a new person has arrived?"

Gu Yanchen draped the rag over his shoulder, sighed, and his tone revealed a profound understanding born from the harsh realities of life.

"Stop looking, brother. Since you're here, make the best of it. This is Lu Jingyan's private room. Anyone who gets locked up in this room used to be a big shot, someone who could make waves in the outside world."

Chu Tianjiao, who was doing push-ups next to him, also stopped. This former war god who once dominated the international battlefield wiped the sweat from his forehead, got up from the ground, and raised his chin at Chen Beixuan.

"Look at your frail body, as thin as paper. Did you try to show off outside and get taught a lesson by Officer Lu with heavy firepower? Don't feel wronged. My 100,000 soldiers are still out there working on sewing machines."

Sitting on the bed, Dragon King Ye Fan swallowed the last bite of his steamed bun and dusted off the crumbs. He looked at Chen Beixuan's face, slightly distorted by his shattered worldview, and saw a reflection of himself from a few months ago.

Ye Fan shifted his position to the side, patted the hard, empty bed board, and his eyes were filled with pity for those who were also in the same boat.

"Come and sit down, 09527."

"Here, regardless of whether you cultivated immortality or demonic arts before, once you enter this door, we all share the same identity."

Ye Fan pointed to the "Code of Conduct for Detainees" posted on the wall, his tone somber.

"A key student under Officer Lu's supervision."