For regions veiled year-round in gloom, the sun's brilliance might be a blessing and a mercy. But for coastal waters, and especially for ships traversing the open ocean, sunlight so searing it stung and peeled the skin had long become a routine torment and punishment.
A brutal glare that made flesh fester; a thick, suffocating humidity that made a man want to scratch his crotch raw; ceaseless pitching and rolling; endless chores; unyielding patches of rust to scrape; and an infinite supply of curses to spit.
Air conditioning and cold beer were privileges reserved strictly for the captain and high-ranking officers. The sun-blackened sailors could only swear under their breath, sweating through their clothes as they rushed about, grateful if they could snatch a couple of drags from a half-spent cigarette butt.
From the sweltering, clattering hold to the sun-baked steamer of an open deck, torment gradually gave way to numb routine.
This was doubly true for a smuggler’s run like theirs. They had to keep a constant lookout, evading coastal defense patrols and the predatory ambushes of their fellow smugglers, ready at any moment to risk their lives in a desperate escape.
The heat was turning up, inspections were tightening, the caliber of their competitors was plummeting, and life was getting harder by the day.
To top it off, they had to cater to one—no, two—uninvited masters who had sneaked aboard. An ill-fated life was nothing if not this.
Every man on board couldn't help but ask himself: was this godforsaken existence only this miserable when smuggling, or had it always been this way?
And now, as the distant coastline finally appeared before their eyes, tears nearly welled in their eyes.
Inside the wheelhouse, the captain sat with his feet kicked up in front of the helm, smoking. He spat a glob of phlegm, turned around, and glared at the uninvited guest behind him. "All right. We're here. Get lost."
"Isn't there still a stretch left?"
The gaunt teenager with parched, yellowed hair grinned, pleading, "We can't swim across a gap this wide. Uncle, be good and see it through to the end. Send the Buddha all the way to the West. Can’t you pull in a little closer?"
The boy was painfully scrawny, clearly suffering from years of malnutrition. He also limped on one leg, tottering with every step as if a gust of wind might blow him over. Yet his eyes were brilliantly, piercingly dark—so sharp that meeting his gaze gave a man chills.
It was like looking at a wild beast draped in human skin, raising goosebumps on the scalp.
And it was far worse when the little bastard was standing on a bundle of blasting caps and high explosives, clutching a homemade detonator he'd welded himself while talking to you!
"You don't know the rules of the Wilderness Market," the captain said, shaking his head without hesitation. "We bought Fourth Master Mi's route, which means this vessel can only go to Chaocheng. If someone catches us docking near Yacheng and puts us on the scales, that's betrayal. It means three knives and six holes through the body."
The captain added, "We make our living by the rules. Once you cross that line, the best you can hope for is losing a hand like mine."
"Then lower a skiff for me," the boy pushed his luck. "I can row over myself."
"You really have the nerve to ask, don't you?"
The captain gave a cold, exasperated laugh. "You really think I can't do anything to you?"
"Hey, my worthless life is nothing, but wouldn't it be a bother if I held up your business?" The boy put on a thick-skinned, carefree smile. "Why not just treat us brothers like a fart and let us go? It saves everyone the headache, doesn't it?"
Even as he spoke, his hand remained glued to the detonator.
Ever since he had boarded, he hadn't loosened his grip once.
Not only that, but he had brought his own food and water. To avoid needing the toilet, he had barely touched any of it. For three whole days, his eyes hadn't closed once.
He was prepared at every second to fight to the death!
Running into someone like this was worse than running into a ghost.
Four days ago, three hours after they had loaded cargo and slipped out of Seven Cities in the dead of night, they discovered someone had sneaked aboard. It wasn't rivals looking to rob them, nor refugees hoping to stow away. It was a brat strapped with explosives, carrying his half-dead younger brother in a wheelchair.
Once cornered, he didn't panic or run. Instead, he took a sailor hostage with a homemade pistol, forcing him to lead the way to the captain.
He didn't ask for money or goods. He only wanted a ride. He asked the captain, out of respect for these five jin of explosives, to extend a helping hand—or else they could all blow up together and settle it once and for all.
One could only say he hadn't built up enough good karma in his past life, ending up working for the Wilderness Market in this one, only to get saddled with such a freak. Just pure, rotten luck!
The captain glanced at the brat, then looked at the child sleeping wrapped in a blanket beside him. Finishing his cigarette, he waved to the second mate.
"Give them a skiff."
He looked back at the brat with a half-smile. "What, are you going to ask me to row you the rest of the way next?"
"That'd be even better!" The boy beamed, gripping the captain's hand as if moved to tears of gratitude. "I knew we were meant to get along!"
*If we get along, then let go of my goddamn hand!*
The captain cursed under his breath, slapped his thighs, and stood up, gesturing for the boy to follow.
Twenty minutes later, the skiff touched down on a shoal.
The waters were calm, and nothing happened.
A miraculous, peaceful parting.
The scrawny, dark boy struggled to hoist his slumbering brother onto his back, deftly tying him securely with ropes and knotting them before offering a final farewell: "Thanks a lot, Uncle!"
Puffing on his cigarette, the captain asked with a grin, "Need me to lend you some travel money?"
"No need," the boy waved.
"Then hurry up and beat it!" The captain's face dropped. "Are you waiting for me to see you off?"
"Leave a phone number, Uncle."
The boy looked up at him. The smile that had plastered his face finally vanished, replaced by a rare, solemn seriousness. "The money we owe you, I'll pay it back."
The captain laughed, unsure whether he was annoyed or amused. But when he met those dark, piercing eyes, he fell strangely silent for a moment.
"Fine, I'll be waiting for my money!"
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handgun and tossed it over. "A gift for you. I went through all the trouble of hauling you little son of a bitch here—don't you go dying out there for no reason."
"Thanks."
The boy caught the gun, deftly inspected its action, and shoved it into his pocket. Turning around, he walked away.
Though it was his first time in this country, in this land, he moved without the slightest hesitation or doubt, as if he had long known his destination.
Watching his back from the skiff, the captain stood silent for a long time.
"Kids these days... each one's more of a lunatic than the last."
Sighing, he fired up the motor and headed back to his ship.
Waiting on deck, the crew members looked at the empty skiff and the captain's bloodless clothes, visibly bewildered.
"Wait, Boss, you really just let them go?"
"What else? Blow up with him?"
The captain waved his hand, his interest spent. "A guy who heads straight for Xinquan the moment he hits the beach isn't someone worth tangling with... Besides, this shit isn't even the first time!"
In the past, he had assumed it was all idle gossip and rumors among smugglers. He never expected to encounter something so absurd himself.
It was truly cursed.
Why were all these freaks and monsters running to Xinquan lately?
***
Crossing the desolate foreshore, skirting the edge of the swamp, and climbing over two hills, they reached a dust-choked main road. Vehicles rushed past, horns blaring ceaselessly.
With a bit of luck, they flagged down a scavenger's truck. Relying on the 'explosives voucher' and 'bullet pass' in his hands, and after politely declining an invitation laden with colorful local character, the boy caught a ride for another stretch.
The shacks in the wilderness grew denser.
Gradually, the surroundings turned bustling and lively.
Finally, they stood before an unfamiliar security gate. Modified vehicles with license plates waited in line before the turnstiles. The two fell in line at the very back, waiting quietly.
Behind him, the sleeping child seemed to wake at last. He blinked open his dazed eyes, but his vision remained blurry. "Brother... where are we?"
"Xinquan. The place where we're going to live."
The teenager paused, then smiled. "Our... home."
The child fell silent for a moment, then asked softly, "Will there really be a home here?"
"There will be. Definitely!"
The boy promised resolutely. Stepping forward, he stood on tiptoe and spoke to the guard inside the gatehouse: "I'm looking for Mr. Ji. We have an appointment!"
"You?"
The guard raised an eyebrow, eyeing the boy's appearance with a mix of surprise and weary familiarity. He led them to an adjacent lobby, where someone was already waiting with a roster in hand.
Showing no condescension toward their age, the clerk adjusted his glasses. "What's your name, young man?"
"Yan Fei."
The boy held his head high. "Yan as in color, Fei as in right and wrong."
"Ah, found it. You're indeed on the list, quite high up too." The clerk flipped through his ledger and smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ji isn't in Xinquan right now, but he mentioned you and left instructions."
With that, he rummaged behind the counter and brought out a stack of items. "This is your meal card. Here are the keys to your dorm—a double room. And this is... er, an explosion-proof container."
Yan Fei blinked, confused. "An explosion-proof what?"
"Ahem, an explosion-proof box."
The clerk gave an awkward cough. "I don't fully understand it either, but he said you might need it. His exact words were: 'That little brat ought to understand.'"
Yan Fei went entirely silent. After a long hesitation, he reached into his pocket, drew out a bundle of dynamite, and placed it inside.
The clerk nodded, checking his notes, and relayed Mr. Ji's words: "'Who are you trying to fool, kid? Where's the rest?'"
Reluctantly dragging his feet, Yan Fei pulled out another small pouch, setting it into the box with immense unwillingness. Irritated, he asked, "Is that enough now?"
The clerk was starting to sweat. He waved a colleague over, who immediately carried the box outside. Soon, the muffled boom of a controlled detonation sounded in the distance.
Even after seeing all sorts of bizarre talents over the past few days, the clerk still felt a chill down his spine. Where had this demolition maniac come from?
"Please wait a moment. These, these, and these were all specifically arranged for you by Mr. Ji. Nobody else gets them."
The clerk hauled out box after box, stacking them into a miniature mountain on the desk. "Don't worry if they're heavy; someone will help carry them over for you shortly. Come, sign here to accept them."
Yan Fei's eyelid twitched violently.
Instinctively, an ominous premonition washed over him. When he pried open one box and saw it packed with textbooks and exam papers, cold sweat broke out across his skin.
*Damn it—I jumped straight into a pit of fire!*
"Can I... say no to these?" His face contorted as he made a futile protest.
The clerk said nothing, merely smiling.
Only after Yan Fei signed his name in agony did the clerk beam and deliver the final blow: "Mr. Ji said that when he returns, he'll give you surprise quizzes. 'You know what happens if you fail, don't you?'"
With that, Yan Fei felt ready to die.
Life had lost all meaning.
Yet at the very end, what was handed over was a medical consultation card.
"And this. Secretary Yu recently arranged a joint consultation. Take a right up ahead and you'll see the clinic. Go straight to Doctor Xie—tall, skinny, hard to miss."
Having delivered his final instructions, the clerk waved goodbye.
Yan Fei looked down, staring blankly at the consultation card in his hands. Only after a long while did it click.
Forgetting the towering mountain of textbooks for a moment, he cheerfully hoisted his brother back onto his shoulders and set off in the direction indicated, his footsteps light and brisk.
"See that?"
Turning his head, he couldn't help but grin proudly at his brother. "I told you, Mr. Ji never makes a mistake!"
"Mr. Ji must be really amazing, right?" the drowsy child murmured softly.
Yan Fei tilted his head up. "Of course! I told you all about him!"
"No... I just feel he's different from how you described him..." The child thought for a moment, then added with conviction, "He definitely isn't that fierce, and he's not that scary at all."
He strained to lift his head, trying to take in the blurred scenes around him: passing pedestrians and vehicles, a bustling and chaotic marketplace, bargaining, queues, hawking, shouting—everything seemed utterly ordinary.
And yet, it was somehow different from anywhere else.
When he opened his eyes, he couldn't see clearly, but the moment he closed them, everything became remarkably vivid.
"Everyone... seems to be smiling," the child murmured softly in his half-asleep haze, "just like you, Brother."
It turned out that beyond the realm of dreams, smiles truly existed in the world.
***
"Yeah, I got it. All right, leave the arrangements to Ah Shu and Old Gou. For anything else, decide amongst yourselves. I've still got business on my end; it probably won't be settled until next month. And make sure Engineer Yan keeps an eye on that kid—don't let him cause any explosions..."
Beneath the same blazing sun, Ji Jue hung up the phone and strolled through the crumbling ruins.
Under the scorching light, a faint haze seemed to drift through the air, shimmering with an uncanny iridescence that left anyone who stared too long dizzy and nauseous.
Vast reserves of polluted spiritus still clung to this land, turning it into a forbidden zone of life—a corrupted realm where not a blade of grass grew and all living creatures mutated.
The southwestern corner of the Thousand Islands had lost every shred of value, a desolate corner forgotten by the world.
Punabantu!
Yet now, this unclaimed land tangled in desolation and corruption had welcomed new pioneers.
Silver mist danced across the sky, streaming down in curtains. Purified and dispersed beneath the Hand of Isis, a brand-new domain was being carved out once again.
Transferred through the Doomsday Express and transported by the Prosperity, massive amounts of supplies flowed in. Fresh factory buildings and structures rose from the ground, yet not a single living person could be seen besides Ji Jue.
Only peculiar creatures, standing less than half a person tall, scurried in packs across the ruins and construction sites. They cleared debris, poured concrete, mixed mortar, and worked in seamless coordination to tackle countless complex tasks.
With these Spirits of Creation branched off from the Lord of the Flies, Isis no longer needed to perform every task personally. With a simple command, these subordinate spirits would diligently carry out all the labor.
Set atop their angular bodies were short little arms, stubby legs, and a tail formed from a charging cable that flicked with agile grace.
Industrious, tireless, and astonishingly efficient.
The only peculiar detail... was their appearance!
God only knew if this was some easter egg left behind by Lord Huaxu. Despite being Spirits of Creation with barely any self-awareness, they possessed a fierce fixation on having two pointed cat ears on their heads. They refused to function without them, and they even meowed when communicating with each other!
When left without orders, they would occasionally gather in groups beneath the sun, huddling together for a lazy nap.
Perhaps this was a lingering bit of resentment the Lord of Illusory Dreams had left for Ji Jue: *Since you love cats so much, go raise a whole litter yourself!*
Little Niuma, having not frolicked in ages, had also reverted to its true form. It dashed excitedly among the mechanical cats, bouncing and pouncing, inviting them to play. It would even catch one, give it a lick, and sneak a bite or two to test the flavor while Ji Jue wasn't looking.
Then, the moment Ji Jue glanced over, it would spit it out, wag its tail, and put on an innocent, well-behaved face.
Amidst the chorus of meows, the orderly construction site buzzed with activity. A brand-new foundation was being erected once more in a land nobody cared about.
Moving forward, research and experiments that were inconvenient to conduct in Xinquan could gradually be shifted here.
Moreover, local conditions were far more suited for recruitment and reinforcements.
One could foresee that in the near future, the veteran workers of the underground workshop could welcome new workstations and surroundings, finally enjoying some sunlight. A truly auspicious development!
In every sense, the future was brighter!
"Everyone has a bright future ahead," Ji Jue exclaimed with hands on his hips, full of anticipation.
Isis let out a helpless sigh. "Sir, why is it that whenever you say things like that, I am reminded of the rich diversity of the human species?"
"Well, maybe it's not human diversity after all." Ji Jue thought for a moment, shrugged, and remarked with genuine feeling, "Maybe I've just accidentally drifted outside the category?"
In that instant, bathed in the blazing sun, he slowly raised his palm.
He reached forward.
As his fingers contracted, a crisp sound rang out from his palm like the grinding of steel. The color of flesh faded rapidly, replaced by the gray-black sheen of iron.
It surged upward in an instant, swallowing his entire form.
In the blink of an eye, everything of the past vanished. Human features and human frailty melted away without a trace, supplanted by a solemn, chilling construct of metal with ferocious angles.
His fingers flexed, feeling the hydraulic systems and tension shifts within his arm. As he moved his body, the low reverberation of an engine rumbled from within his chest.
Spiritus flowed like fire through countless conduits, while minute electrical arcs and sparks flickered continuously across his metalized nerves and brain.
It felt as though he had broken free from an invisible lock, achieving the ultimate sublimation from his former self.
Within this majestic rhythm surging from the soul, bones transformed into steel, and blood coursed like quicksilver.
What he felt was unprecedented freedom.
There was no longer any need for superfluous disguises or painstaking pursuits, nor was there any confusion or doubt. All that mattered was allowing his true essence to manifest naturally!
The true self, the soul's genuine form—the consummate posture of a Celestial Chosen.
This was what awaited him after waking from the dream—the Regeneration form!
"I'll leave the rest of the work to you, Isis." Ji Jue waved and stepped forward. "I'm taking a quick break. Be right back."
The sound of grinding steel rang out once more. Under the control and intervention of Non-Offensive, wings of steel unfolded behind Ji Jue. Quicksilver shifted and coalesced into vector thrusters. Flames surged, erupting in full fury!
A thunderous roar shattered the air, a gale howling.
Ji Jue shot into the heavens!
Breaking free from the hellish domain, glittering like a star, he cut through the haze of spiritus and quicksilver, sliced across the azure sky, broke past the gale and cloud layers, and ascended once more into the open firmament!
Looking up beneath the blazing sun, the endless azure expanse enveloped all creation.
Looking down, waves rippled across the deep blue sea, extending to the distant horizon.
Ji Jue hovered quietly in the sky, as if plunging into another ocean.
Between the vast sky and the open sea, all was serene. Closing his eyes, he seemed to hear the ocean waves and the vault of heaven singing together.
Like a dream, like a vision.
He waved his hand toward everything before him.
—*"Hello, world."*
Chapter 552