Chapter 273: The Lull Before Battle

Five days later...

“The finest ingredients often require only the simplest methods of preparation. At three in the morning, after a long day’s work, Chef Ji began preparing his latest dish...”

As Ji Jue narrated to himself, the shrieking evil creature on the workbench was pinned down by dozens of mercury hands. Thick metal spikes were driven through its limbs, and once Solid Alchemy froze the flow of spirit matter within it, out came the chainsaw, hammer, and vibrating cutting wheel.

The entire process was smooth, seamless, and oddly satisfying to watch.

Under the work of an ever-changing array of tools, the creature was quickly dismantled from head to toe, hide, shell, and all. Every part was sorted and stored in its proper place before it was time to welcome the next one.

Throughout the entire process, Ji Jue did not even need to lift a finger. He simply sat in his chair while flowing mercury formed dozens of limbs, each handling its own task in perfect coordination and at astonishing speed.

Everything was back to the way it used to be. There was a reason rehiring veteran employees made onboarding so much faster!

After all the time they had spent together in Spring City breaking laws and getting up to no good, their teamwork had become practically flawless. There was not the slightest hitch in using the mercury limbs. If a leg needed pinning, they pinned the leg; if an arm needed holding, they held the arm. If one of the materials started screaming a little too loudly, Ji Jue did not even have to say anything before a hand clamped over its mouth. They had perfect coordination and positioning.

Otherwise, Ji Jue would barely have been able to deal with the mountain of materials piling up in the warehouse.

Ever since that rain of contamination had fallen, the evil creatures across Leafway Island had been multiplying like chives after a generous dose of fertilizer, sprouting up everywhere, faster than anyone could harvest them. Every time Ji Jue went out, he came back hauling cartload after cartload of spoils.

Unfortunately, once the initial bonus period ended, the drop rate became downright miserable. Aside from the various materials harvested from the evil creatures themselves, not even half a blessing had dropped. The whole thing was practically designed to force the “players” into spending their points.

With the way the rankings worked now, anyone who refused to spend points could barely even compete. The Association had gotten away with it because there were too few candidates to make much noise, and the Association was too powerful to care about a few bad reviews. Otherwise, the whole thing would have been review-bombed into oblivion by now!

Ji Jue had expected as much. These days, it was hardly unusual for game operators to secretly tweak the numbers and mess with drop rates. At least everything here had fixed prices instead of some bottomless gacha pool with no pity system, forcing the candidates to dump all their points into ten-pulls.

One look at that exchange list was enough to tell there was something fishy about it. The prices of the general materials and common blessings near the top were reasonable enough, but farther down the list, many of the precious materials and rare blessings had prices that practically shot through the roof.

The prices of passive-type blessings were especially outrageous. Flawless Craft cost four hundred points, Spirit Primacy cost five hundred and forty, while Axis of Dominion cost six hundred. And that was not even mentioning the three blessings in the Metamorphosis Realm. None of them offered anything remotely resembling good value.

If someone wanted to save up for something big, they had no choice but to hold onto their points. But when everyone else was scrambling upward as fast as they could, sitting still and hoarding points was basically suicide.

At the same time, the prices of many blessings with tremendous destructive power and obvious immediate effects had been deliberately lowered. Early- and mid-stage blessings that belonged to Entropy, Swarm, and White Deer were so cheap that Ji Jue almost wondered if they were running a clearance sale.

They might as well have written “Buy One, Get One Free” and “I’m bored. I want to see blood” directly on the exchange list. Ji Jue seriously questioned what kind of people the examiners were. The Association really ought to investigate this!

At the moment, Ji Jue actually did not need much. What he lacked was an enormous quantity of basic materials. Even after repeatedly scaling down his plans, the amount he needed was still astronomical. He probably could not fill the gap even if he dug up the entirety of Leafway Island.

The exchange list was available, but he could only take things one step at a time. For now, he had overhauled the workshop’s entire core area, strengthening both its defenses and his control over it.

And this was where the importance of background and training became glaringly obvious. While some participants stared blankly at their materials and the exchange list without even knowing where to begin, the workshops of the top-ranked candidates had already undergone complete upgrades, trading their old gear for something on an entirely different level.

Apprentices from major workshops had grown up surrounded by this sort of thing. They had seen it, handled it, and worked with it firsthand, not to mention receiving constant guidance from their teachers and accumulating plenty of practical experience of their own. Even if they simply copied what they already knew without putting much thought into it, they could still put together a functional workshop.

As for apprentices who never made it into a workshop’s inner circle and were stuck doing menial work on the sidelines, many of them barely even knew how a proper workshop was laid out. A self-taught outsider had almost no chance of surviving in an environment as brutally competitive as the Ember Path.

As for Ji Jue, that was the last thing he needed to worry about. He had not studied under Professor Ye for very long, and she had not taught him much advanced theory, but he had seen plenty.

From the Ember Path to Putrefaction, from the Association to the Depths, he had smashed his way through some workshops and dismantled others. He had even spent several days poking around Jian Yuan’s workshop. Besides, the workshop structure once used by Sage Mercury was still sitting in storage aboard the Doomsday Express. Ji Jue had only just begun studying and reverse-engineering it for himself, but surely he could at least copy it!

Sometimes, getting to operate something with your own hands just once was worth years of theorizing on paper. And now that the Association was generous enough to pay out of its pocket and give him a chance to practice for free, Ji Jue had practically been waking up laughing in his sleep these past few days.

If he failed to squeeze every last bit of value out of an opportunity like this, then even if he finished the exam in first place, he would probably still be shedding bitter tears for a long time afterward.

For five full days, Ji Jue had slept for less than four hours in total. Only after finishing the material processing and setting up the furnace’s automated processing routines did he finally collapse face-first onto the bed and fall into a deep slumber.

Five hours later, he forced himself back up and, still half asleep, completed the final round of processing. Then he took a cold shower to wake up properly. Sitting in his chair and looking over the fruits of his labor, he couldn’t help but laugh.

On the assembly platform before him stood the completed armor, now utterly different from what it had once been. It still retained the same red-and-black color scheme, but compared with the previous version, the powered armor now looked like a muscular man who had stripped away all his bulky, cumbersome clothing to reveal a lean and powerful physique underneath.

Using large quantities of bone and blood from evil creatures as raw materials, and with alloy as the foundation, Ji Jue had reforged the outer armor plating until the plates were several times lighter than before, while offering several times greater protection. At the same time, after adding another set of auxiliary engines, its mobility had improved by leaps and bounds.

Aside from an assortment of weapons reverse-engineered from the Federation’s military designs and modified with alchemical elements, Ji Jue had also added two more sets of evil creature batteries. In overdrive mode, the armor’s output could now double.

To prevent a repeat of what had happened with Young Master Lou last time, he had also added a layer of fluid mercury around the outside of the cockpit, providing full 360-degree protection with no blind spots.

Aside from the new equipment and creations designed to work with the two blessings, Iron Essence and Ultimate Resilience, Ji Jue’s most groundbreaking innovation was fixing the greatest weakness of his replica: its inability to talk.

He had meticulously recorded more than four hundred lines of trash talk, taunts, mockery, and other “absolutely essential” battle cries, loaded every last one into the armor’s spirit matter memory bank, and hooked it up to two massive loudspeakers.

This guaranteed that, no matter what situation his opponents found themselves in, they would be treated to the most authentic ranked-match experience possible!

Now, after days of preparation and careful arrangement, the time had finally come for the most crucial step in the creation of any alchemical work: naming it. A good name would not only stay with a creation for its entire existence, but could often make it even more formidable when it truly mattered.

People were the same way. Imagine the other side lining up, chests out, proudly introducing themselves as Ye Feng, Long Aotian, Li Xiaoyao, names with all the grandeur and swagger anyone could ask for. Then imagine someone on your side stepping forward and announcing that his name was Ergou[1]. At that point, the heavens themselves might as well collapse.

Just look at Zhou Zhong. The moment he developed a new blessing sequence, he immediately named it “Equal Fate.” And then there was Ji Jue’s teacher. Her Omen Series had made such a name for itself from the Federation to the Empire and all the way to the Central Lands that simply mentioning Ye Xian was probably enough to give her victims PTSD.

“Hmm...” Ji Jue racked his brains as he stared at the vicious-looking armor before him.

From a functional standpoint, since it was designed for assault and destruction, the name might as well make that purpose clear. At the same time, it also needed to preserve a sense of continuity with the series and embody the expectations he had for it.

“Assault... forced entry...” Ji Jue smacked a fist into his palm as inspiration struck. “Assault... assault... How about Assault Horsey?!”

For the briefest moment, the dormant armor’s engine hesitantly spun up, as though desperately trying to voice an objection. Unfortunately, Ji Jue had already picked up a can of spray paint with a delighted grin and started painting the name onto it. Halfway through, he realized that this was a modified model, so naturally it had to be distinguished from the prototype.

Without hesitation, he swept his hand across the armor and added another line: Assault Horsey · Unit 2!

Such a powerful and imposing name would surely bring endless terror and humiliation to every opponent unfortunate enough to die beneath it!

That was not all. Once he had come up with that name, inspiration came flooding in. He even thought up names for the two machines farther down the assembly line that were meant to defend the workshop.

The one with an entirely white exterior, whose armor would burst open and glow whenever it entered overdrive mode, would be called Duo Donkey. The other one would be Good-News Banshee.

For some reason, though, once he had finished naming them, Ji Jue could not stop thinking about alternate color schemes and stripped-down budget versions to save materials. He even wanted to make a dozen or so different accessory packs, double the Federation military’s prices, and sell them off in the Central Lands.

Wouldn’t that shameless money just come pouring in?!

The thought scared Ji Jue badly enough that he checked the workshop’s spirit matter lockdown several more times and reinforced it with another layer. That had to be the aberration contamination messing with his head! How terrifying.

After completing Assault Horsey, Ji Jue spent all his remaining time upgrading and improving the workshop. One evil creature after another went down the assembly line, receiving the full treatment. They were skinned, deboned, and drained of blood before being thrown into the furnace, completely remade, and given a new life. The workshop buried deep beneath the earth continued to expand. It stretched farther downward, driving its roots ever deeper into the darkness below.

Meanwhile, as everything remained peaceful and uneventful underground, the world above deteriorated rapidly beneath relentless storms. By the sixth day, when Ji Jue went up to check on the situation, he had no choice but to wear breathing equipment as the air was filled with tiny flecks of black dust.

In the distance, beyond the gray haze, veins of flesh had begun spreading across the mountains. The river flowing past him had taken on a faint crimson tint. The stench of blood was sharp and nauseating.

Bones had sprouted from the soil like plants, growing into grotesque vegetation. Far away, across the deep blue sea that had darkened almost to black, something enormous resembling a manta ray drifted past, dragging long tendrils behind it. Fine strands swept over the surface of the water like nimble limbs, ravenously hunting for prey.

Even half of one fleshy wing passing over the island was enough to cast a shadow as deep as night. Leafway Island was gradually turning into a heavily contaminated zone. Was this also part of some historical phenomenon the simulation had reproduced?

Ji Jue wondered just how much the Association had added to this simulation.

On the seventh day, the torrential rain returned. Pitch-black raindrops poured from the heavens, blanketing everything below as everyone waited restlessly.

The moment the countdown reached zero, a clear chime seemingly rang beside their ears, making countless participants jolt. Immediately, a structure resembling a kaleidoscope of countless prisms appeared before everyone’s eyes.

At last, it had begun!

1. The first three names sound like classic hero/protagonist names, while Ergou (二狗) sounds plain, rustic, and almost comical.

Ye Feng (叶枫) sounds elegant and heroic. 枫 (feng) means “maple,” and names built from a surname plus a striking single character like this are very common for handsome, capable protagonists. It has that clean, cool “main character” feel.

Long Aotian (龙傲天) is even more exaggerated. 龙 means “dragon,” 傲 carries the sense of pride or arrogance, and 天 means “heaven.” The name basically gives off a “proud dragon who defies the heavens” vibe. More importantly, “Long Aotian” became a stock name/meme for absurdly overpowered, arrogant protagonists who crushes everyone and acts like the world revolves around him.

Li Xiaoyao (李逍遥) sounds romantic and heroic. 逍遥 means something like “free and unfettered” or “wandering freely without restraint.” It gives the image of a carefree swordsman or wandering hero. The name is also strongly associated with the protagonist of Chinese Paladin, so it carries additional heroic connotations.

Ergou (二狗) means “Second Dog” or “Dog No. 2.” Names like Ergou are stereotypical old-fashioned rural nicknames or childhood names. They are intentionally ordinary and unsophisticated, the exact opposite of something grand like “Proud Dragon of Heaven.” ☜