Maximillius was displeased. Ever since he became a false immortal, all feelings of anxiety and unease had ceased to exist. Nothing could threaten him, and he was never in a dangerous position. However, after his target had fled and couldn’t be found, he once again experienced the feeling of anxiety. It was like a giant hand was slowly approaching him, ready to squeeze him once he was in its grasp. As a false immortal, it was difficult for anything to shake his determination. If he was feeling anxiety, then it meant there was a credible threat to his life. No matter what, that woman had to be found! “There’s still no sign of her?”

“None, sir,” a man said. He was the head of homeland security. The two of them were standing in a room with dozens of men sitting in front of multiple monitors each. In the middle of the back wall of the room, there was a giant display with hundreds of thousands of video feeds on display. “We’ve been searching nonstop, monitoring every video feed on the planet. We’ve tapped into webcams, traffic monitors, doorbell cameras, nanny cams, everything. There’s no sign of her at all.”

“Expand the search!” Maximillius said. “Don’t just search one planet, search them all. Verify everyone’s identity! All suspicious individuals must be apprehended!”

“We don’t have the necessary manpower to do that,” the head of homeland security said. “There are hundreds of billions of individuals. How long will it take to verify their individual identities? We don’t have the same kind of mass-surveillance program that the empire has.”

Maximillius practically growled. “Well, why don’t we?”

“Not all planets were willing to comply,” the head of homeland security said. “As you know, the federation is a joint—”

“I”—Maximillius jabbed at his own chest with his thumb—“am the federation! Me! Without me, there’s nothing to stop the empire’s and coalition’s false immortals. Do you understand?”

The head of homeland gulped. “Even if you say that, to implement the same kind of mass surveillance as the empire’s will take at least a month. Even then, if the target randomly teleported into the ground or escaped into a zone without any surveillance cameras, we wouldn’t be able to find her.”

Maximillius exhaled. “I don’t care what it takes. Find her! Isn’t there a whole world of hostages you can use to drag her out of hiding!?”

The head of homeland security’s face darkened. If it was so easy to find the target, why couldn’t the false immortal do it himself? “I’ll do whatever I can, sir.”

“Good.” Maximillius placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “If you don’t find her, I’ll have your head. Don’t think the law will save you.”

***

Grandpa Vremya frowned. It wasn’t unusual for nascent-soul cultivators to appear in the capital city of Bread. However, for a whole group of them to approach the internet café at once? It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. Along with the turmoil caused by Rachel, there could only be one reason for so many of them to show up. They were here for him and Azalea. Since there wasn’t any news about Rachel dying or being captured, she must’ve gotten away successfully, and who wouldn’t be worried about the tiger returning to the mountain? How could the false immortal sleep well at night knowing Rachel was still alive and mightily pissed off because of her loss? A peak soul-seed cultivator could ruin countless planets while playing hide-and-seek as long as she was willing to throw everything away. The only question was whether or not Rachel would be willing to give up the Moon Lotus World for the sake of her revenge.

“What’s wrong?’ Azalea asked, noticing Grandpa Vremya’s change in expression. “Did someone steal your jungle monsters?”

“No,” Grandpa Vremya said. “There’s a group of nascent-soul cultivators approaching us. They’re being led by an early soul-seed cultivator. They’re probably going to try to take us hostage in a ploy to draw Rachel out of hiding.”

“Are they idiots?” Azalea asked, raising an eyebrow. “They know you have golems capable of beating a soul-seed cultivator. They’d have to send much more than a small group to capture us.”

Grandpa Vremya shrugged. “Maybe they have a special method to deal with my golems. Everything has a weakness. Nothing is invincible.”

“Yet, you’re never allowed to lose,” Azalea said and rolled her eyes. “If everything has a weakness, wouldn’t that mean you’ll lose eventually if someone exploits it?”

“A real expert would display their strength as their weakness, tricking people into making the wrong decision,” Grandpa Vremya said. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll never lose.”

Azalea rolled her eyes again. “Is that them?” she asked, gesturing towards an approaching group with her neck. It must’ve been them because there was no one else giving off such a heavy pressure, but she still had to ask because she didn’t think they were from the government, judging by the way they dressed. They were wearing casual clothes, and the leader had spiky hair and a large gold chain hanging from his neck.

The group of cultivators stopped behind Grandpa Vremya’s and Azalea’s chairs. Grandpa Vremya ignored them, continuing his game. Since they weren’t saying anything, he wasn’t going to be the one to speak first. Besides, if he dealt with them now, his attention would be split between his game and controlling his golems, leading to a possible loss. Since Grandpa Vremya wasn’t saying anything, Azalea decided to keep her mouth shut as well. After knowing him for several centuries, she could tell what he was thinking without him having to say anything.

There was an awkward silence punctuated by mouse clicks and keyboard taps. Eventually, the round ended. At that point, the spiky-haired cultivator cleared his throat. “So, you’re This Granddaddy is Going to Kick All Your Asses and Roast Them in a BBQ Oven, eh?”

Grandpa Vremya turned around in his seat, his chair swiveling. This Granddaddy is Going to Kick All Your Asses and Roast Them in a BBQ Oven was the combined username of his five accounts. “That’s me.”

The spiky-haired cultivator nodded and gestured with his hand. A girl came forward. The spiky-haired cultivator crossed his arms and gestured towards the girl with his elbow. “You trash-talked my great-granddaughter and made her cry.”

Grandpa Vremya furrowed his brow. For once, it seemed like his deduction was incorrect. These people weren’t from the government, here to kidnap them to lure out Rachel. They were here because one of them experienced toxicity in an inherently toxic game? People actually called their soul-seed-level relatives to avenge them in person? “Who are you? In every round I play, I always trash talk.”

“I’m Starlight Hero,” the girl said. She stamped her foot when she realized the name didn’t ring any bells. “This has to be him! You have to get revenge for me, Great-Grandpa!”

The spiky-haired cultivator cracked his knuckles. “You can apologize nicely, or I’ll make you apologize through a mouth without a full set of teeth. Which one will it be, old man?”

Grandpa Vremya waved his hand. A battlesuit golem appeared in the space between him and the group of cultivators. Not too long after, Grandpa Vremya started another game while the aggressive cultivators were regretting their choice outside of the café. The spiky-haired cultivator’s eyes were puffy and outlined in black like a panda’s while the rest of the cultivators wore blank expressions on their faces. In a restaurant across the street from the internet café, a group of men exchanged glances with one another. They were the men sent to kidnap Grandpa Vremya and Azalea. After seeing what he could do, they felt lucky they had waited before taking action. It seemed like they were going to have to readjust their plan…. In fact, with the strength Grandpa Vremya had displayed, it’d probably be best to call Maximillius over to deal with the duo.