A Local

First of all, the greatest harvest was the progress bar. On his wristwatch, the 1 o'clock mark was completely suffused with dazzling gold, filled to the absolute brim. More than just filled—it was practically overflowing! Originally, through Ji Jue's furious grinding, his progress had already reached over seventy percent in barely a month. Now, after digesting the furnace's massive experience package in one go, the progress bar had completely burst. Had Ji Jue possessed a matrix and a blessing from a Sovereign Virtue, he would have advanced long ago. Fortunately, reality was no dogshit gacha game, and the excess "experience points" were not wasted—all the insights and transformations had thoroughly fused with Ji Jue's ability and soul. No one mandated that hitting Tier 1 capacity required an immediate jump to Tier 2. In fact, when low-tier Celestial Chosen had the choice, they often built up as much accumulation as possible, choosing to advance only when their ability could progress no further. This maximized their base stats to the greatest extent. This was something Professor Ye and Sister Wen had reminded him countless times. Every bit of advantage and strength gained during the Calling stage would grow and magnify exponentially across Metamorphosis, Regeneration, and Exaltation. There was good reason why wild Celestial Chosen were looked down upon by the major organizations these days. Lacking guidance, matrices, various forms of auxiliary support, and sound theoretical grounding, rushing off the starting line too fast often meant running out of steam later. When enemies became a terrifying combination of complex mechanics and overwhelming stat-checks, Celestial Chosen who had overdrawn their potential could only suffer bitter defeat. However, Ji Jue's current situation... was no longer a question of lacking foundation. Rather, his foundation had been stuffed so full by the furnace's colossal shot of EXP that it was nearly bursting! He had gorged himself into a three-hundred-jin fat man in a single sitting. He could barely move. To make an analogy, it was like suddenly replacing the engine of a car he was used to driving with an airplane engine. Without careful attention, the output of Deus Ex Machina would surge out of control, bordering on unmanageable. The solution was simple. Just advance to the next tier and be done with it. Yet the problem looped right back to the beginning... To advance, he had to find a matrix and then receive a blessing. Otherwise, who knew what garbage skill a crooked skill tree would randomly roll up? And the matrix Non-Offensive was still nowhere to be found. Yet even more important than the swollen experience bar were the numerous impressions and records conveyed by the furnace's essence—memories and firsthand experiences from the furnace's own existence. If the earlier resonance had been an introductory lecture, the ocean of records within the essence was bona fide hands-on practical experience. So much so that... —Fluid Alchemy was officially mastered at the entry level! His understanding of the Twelve Virtues had expanded countless times over, and not only that—he had made considerable strides across the four elements of alchemy: Ascension, Purification, Transmutation, and Harmony. This was what was truly precious. From this day forth, Ji Jue was the official inheritor of Fluid Alchemy—hailed as the swan song of ancient alchemy! Divided by the dawn of the Cataclysm Era, the alchemy of the Embers lineage fell into ancient and modern periods. Compared to modern alchemy, which had achieved complete standardization and independence, the craftsmen of antiquity were bound by far fewer rules and constraints. There was not even a separate categorization for alchemy back then. It, along with the formulas of Entropy, the pacts of Tianyuan, the divination and precognition of Aether, the rituals of Ascension... and all the other versatile abilities passed down among the Sovereign Virtue factions, were collectively classified as esoteric rites. The craftsmen of that era possessed pronounced personal styles, along with distinct kinds of trouble. Simply in terms of methods, it was an utter mess. During alchemy, they used human blood, souls, and all sorts of chaotic sacrifices, employing bizarre methods Ji Jue could not have conceived in his wildest dreams... Don't ask how it worked; ask, and the answer was "no idea," ask, and it was "doesn't matter." As Professor Ye put it: primitive alchemy was like a group of people walking into an elevator. Some laughed toward the sky, some fell to their knees and kowtowed, some pissed on the floor, and some did nothing at all. Just like that, they all rose upward in a daze, and as for why, every single one thought it had to do with what they themselves had done. Yet the bizarre part was that looking back, nobody knew who had actually pressed the elevator button... "I reckon if I walk backward four steps into the bathroom, shout 'Deep Blue,' utter 'never bully a youth for being poor,' or proclaim 'love and bonds,' it just works." Each method was more unhinged than the last. Apart from sharing a rough general framework, their underlying logic was fundamentally different from the modern alchemical system—some even ran completely contrary to it. Yet that did not mean they lacked merit. Quite the contrary: by sacrificing convenience and widespread accessibility, the enhancements gained often far exceeded anything modern craftsmen could fathom. Fluid Alchemy, born in the twilight of the Eternal Empire before the Cataclysm Era, combined the virtues of both. Back then, alchemical theory was already converging with modern principles, lacking only the unification later provided by several Sages. At the same time, it preserved the strong characteristics of classical alchemy. Forsaking the two elements of Ascension and Harmony, Fluid Alchemy's mastery of the path of Purification was unrivaled under heaven. Its singular, signature art was the unification between an object's outward form and its inner essence—thereby enhancing external strength and functionality through the elevation of its essence. Even if it were merely a blade of common iron fresh from the forge, as long as the wielder maintained it diligently and communed with it using their own spiritus over days and months to nurture its spirituality, it could grow on its own into a peerless, legendary sword. And that was merely the baseline. In the hands of Sage Quicksilver, every creation seemed born of nature, bearing no trace of chisel or craft. Possessing an absurdly potent stealthiness, they simultaneously boasted multiple forms and functions. It could be said that Quicksilver single-handedly elevated Fluid Alchemy to its legendary status. What Ji Jue had grasped now was nothing more than a few basic circuits and structural concepts she had pioneered. Compared to true powerhouses—masters like Professor Ye—the gap was immeasurable. Even so, it was enough. "Hahahaha! From this day forth, please call me—Squid Man!!!" Inside the puzzle ball's mobile workshop, Ji Jue excitedly spread his arms before the furnace. Then, four alchemically treated limbs of liquid mercury extended outward from his back. Like some deep-sea monster. Flaccid, wriggling, squirming, floating listlessly in midair. They looked less like powerful arms and more like tentacles... squirm, squirm~ This was Ji Jue's very first achievement after learning Fluid Alchemy! Identifiable at a glance: pure trash. Xiao An reached out and poked one; a section snapped right in the middle and plopped to the ground, flopping like a dying fish before squirming back onto Ji Jue's back. "So weak." The tactless kid offered his sharp critique, only to be refuted by a flustered Ji Jue, who blustered about how ugly things were cute too, how growing this long was already impressive, and how stamina was what truly mattered, filling the room with laughter. The good news: he had learned it. The bad news: there was still a damn long road before it could actually be put to practical use. Fluid Alchemy naturally held unique advantages in manipulating liquid mediums. The title "Quicksilver," for instance, originated from her transcendent mastery over liquid mercury. Ji Jue had naturally tried to copy her, following suit. Unfortunately, with the control and attainment of a blank-slate newbie, he could not support the operation of such complex implements at all; they were purely for show. Condensing the four limbs into one, however, made it considerably nimbler—at least enough to help him fetch tools or carry a bag. In short: a toy. The real application and result, rather, was another pile of things he had thrown together on a whim... neatly packed inside a box on his backpack: dense rows of bullets. The bullet cores were drilled hollow and sealed with specially treated mercury. They were pre-inscribed with the Sovereign Virtue insignias of Desolate Ruins and Swarm to boost solidity and destructive power. Depending on the situation, the warheads could also be swapped for special materials engraved with other Sovereign Virtues to produce different effects. Through Fluid Alchemy, the entire bullet was reinforced and elevated. Using mercury as a carrier eliminated the need for Xiao An to charge them on the fly; they could be pre-empowered with his Sword Resonance matrix and stored, ready to be detonated at any time. This solved Ji Jue's current lack of firepower to the greatest extent, resolving the issue of being unable to crack tough defensive shells. For this trick alone, Ji Jue's trip had not been in vain. Only, what about the matrix? Non-Offensive. Professor Ye, this guide of yours isn't working! How many game versions have changed since then? From entering the Border Realm until now, he had gathered a mountain of clues, coming so close to unraveling the collapse of the Heavenly Pillar and the enigma of the Eternal Empire's ruin, yet there wasn't even a whisper of a shadow of Non-Offensive. Was his level progression really going to be bottlenecked like this? Thinking about the possibility of returning empty-handed—or worse, having no way back and dying of old age in this Border Realm—Ji Jue felt a prickle of dread on his scalp. Yet just as he was lost in thought, the puzzle ball suddenly spoke. "Stop daydreaming, kid." It said, "Someone's coming!" Light traced through the void, displaying the scene outside—just outside the ruined safe house where they had set up camp, several furtive figures were poking their heads out, looking in their direction. Peering curiously, their eyes wary. In their hands were heavy, bulky weapons that looked like some kind of firearms, yet unlike anything seen in the outside world. More importantly, their appearance... all bore traces of mutation and fragmentation, resembling beasts or mutated limbs. And leading at the very front... ...was the "local" Ji Jue had once let go. Ji Jue was momentarily taken aback. Was this the fallout of not cutting the weeds at the root? Yet amidst their vigilance and preparation, the middle-aged man hesitated for a long time before actually stepping away from his companions and walking toward them. Wandering around the ruins, unable to find the workshop's entrance, whatever courage he had summoned seemed to drain away. He slumped to the ground. As if waiting for them to appear. Xiao An rose, leaning on his crutch, but Ji Jue held him back. "They might not be here for a fight," he said. "I'll go check." After putting his defensive preparations in order, he pushed open the door. Appearing as if out of thin air, he startled not only the middle-aged man at the entrance, but sent a wave of panic through the people in the distance as well. They raised their weapons, trembling with fear. "What's up?" Ji Jue looked curiously at the man's state. "I don't think I subscribed to any local cable TV, did I? How'd you track me down all the way here to collect the cable bill?" "..." The mutated man hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Outsider, please come with me." He said, "The Prophet wants to see you." This time, it was Ji Jue's turn to fall silent. Setting aside the invitation itself, the mere mention of a bizarre, charlatan title like "Prophet" gave him an inexplicable sense of unease and wariness. He glanced back, exchanging looks with the intently focused Xiao An behind the door. He slowly shook his head. "Sorry, I've been a bit busy lately. Not really in the mood to join any team-building events for your local, spirited syndicate..." he said. "Let's skip the meeting." The man froze. The sounds issuing from his mouth grew hurried, like human speech blended with the chirping of an insect, frantic. Only after a good while did Ji Jue make out what he was saying. "The Prophet says she knows where Non-Offensive is." "..." Ji Jue froze in place. After a long time, he turned his head and looked at Xiao An. Following what felt like an eternity of hesitant deliberation, he finally let out a silent sigh. "Lead the way."