Analysis

Chen Chuan rested his hand on the page and kept flipping. Sure enough, there were more entries further back. Yet as he read on, he could not help feeling a twinge of disappointment. He had hoped to find relevant information regarding the Fourth Limit. But while there were plenty of words written here, they read like fevered ravings—disjointed, garbled, and incoherent. Unlike the earlier portions, the characters here had not been carved into the surface. Instead, they had been written directly in blood with a brush, messy and extremely difficult to decipher. The only terms he could make out clearly were phrases like "Sacred Cave" and "Secret Realm." From the looks of it, breaking through this limit appeared to be tied to a specific geographic region. Yet the text gave no clues on how to find it. Or perhaps the method was buried deep within those incoherent ravings—in any case, it was utterly beyond his ability to comprehend. Viewed in that light, the material held little value. Just as he was about to set it down, however, a thought suddenly crossed his mind. He lifted it up to take another look. This time, he ignored the text entirely and focused on the brushstrokes themselves, noticing that the interplay of lines faintly traced out the contours of mountains and rivers. Was this... a map? Still, looking at this alone, who could possibly know where it was pointing? If this had been the old era, when someone had absolutely no other path forward, they might have ventured out to search for it. But nowadays, with established routes readily available, there was no need to waste such effort. After inspecting the area again and confirming nothing else was hidden away, he rummaged around until he found a leather trunk. Wrapping everything securely in waterproof cloth, he packed the items inside, emerged from the woods on the opposite shore, and trod across the lake surface just as before. Returning to his car, he placed the trunk on the back seat and drove back the way he had come. *** Meanwhile, in a villa in Yinglu District, Sister Huan received a report from one of her subordinates. "Sister Huan, Team Two reports that they may have been spotted by the target. Over their last few attempts to close in and monitor him, they were detected in advance by a resonator each time." "Does it have anything to do with the Disposal Bureau?" "No. Judging by the way the boundary points were utilized, they weren't borrowing open resources." Sister Huan made an immediate decision. "Call off all surveillance on the target at once. From now on, gather all intelligence on him strictly through indirect means." She was deeply concerned that continuing would put Chen Chuan on high alert and draw the Disposal Bureau into the matter. While the probability was low, if the bureau truly stepped in, they might well uncover a lead. Although on the surface they had no connection whatsoever to the company, once exposed or placed on the Disposal Bureau's list, conducting covert operations would become completely out of the question. Not long after she ended the call, another incoming communication arrived. "Sister Huan, the operative we sent to the fringe cities to dig up records has returned." Sister Huan immediately answered, "Patch him through." A moment later, another voice spoke through her boundary credential, greeting her respectfully. She cut straight to the point: "Well? What did you find?" "We found that the target graduated from Yangzhi Wuyi only a year ago. He has a massive reputation locally, and many people know of him..." Sister Huan interrupted him. "You can skip all that. Draw up a dossier and transmit it to my credential later. I only need to know if you learned anything about his previous combat records." "That... I'm sorry, Sister Huan, I couldn't find them." "What happened?" The operative said helplessly, "All of the target's files were kept in the archives of the local Wuyi Academy, located in the administration building. I tested the waters several times, but I couldn't get inside and was nearly discovered. Even if I had managed to infiltrate, I probably wouldn't have been able to locate the specific file we need. "So I could only gather scraps of information from other students. Without concrete details, though, I couldn't verify what was real and what wasn't." Sister Huan asked, "If the school didn't have them, the government certainly keeps records on a fighter of his caliber. Did you check there?" "I couldn't find anything there either," the operative replied. "I could only confirm that the records had long since been taken." "Taken?" "Possibly by certain specialized departments, or perhaps by a solicitor's firm he retained. Personally, I suspect a government department is the most likely culprit, because the officials I bribed all claimed complete ignorance. It felt off to me, and I worried that digging any further might cause problems, so I dropped the trail." Sister Huan did not reprimand him. Instead, she said, "You handled it well, and you were cautious. It's better to leave it unverified than to alert the relevant authorities of Great Shun. Fine, send over what you have." A moment later, records of Chen Chuan's activities in Yangzhi appeared on her boundary credential. Most of it consisted of fight records, which offered little practical help for their upcoming operation. However, when her eyes caught one particular detail, her gaze paused. "Zhouyuan Jin technique?" Rumor had it that this was the jin technique Chen Chuan practiced. Unfamiliar with it, she ran a quick search to grasp its basic characteristics. With her broad experience, she did not dismiss the technique as inferior. In theory, as long as one had a high degree of mutated tissue coverage, this jin could be cultivated, and it would in turn stimulate the growth of mutated tissue. The difference lay purely in how far one could take it. Variations in talent, natural gifts, and willpower all played a role. At present, one point was practically certain: Chen Chuan's mutated tissue coverage was undeniably high, very likely exceeding eighty percent. That aligned with her earlier assessment. Yet even knowing this, she did not pay it much mind. While the technique could theoretically mimic various types of jin, theory was just theory. Given Chen Chuan's youth, there was no way he could have mastered it to any profound depth. At most, he had built a solid foundation. After that, he would have had to specialize—for no matter how gifted someone was, they had to make trade-offs. From the evidence so far, he had most likely focused on reinforcing grappling, open-hand combat, and certain saber jin, perhaps with some hidden clinch jin up his sleeve. If that was the case... She forwarded her deductions along with all the files to the analysis team and instructed, "Combine these with the information we gathered earlier and run a tactical simulation." This involved taking an estimate of the target's physical capabilities based on past performances—including strength, speed, endurance, and combat reflexes—factoring in all potential techniques, and using multiple non-active conscious entities to model a simulacrum for tactical simulations against him. While a mere simulation could never capture reality completely, it helped them refine their plans to a considerable degree. Nowadays, field operatives from many corporations ran tactical simulations like this whenever they prepared to tackle difficult targets. After waiting for half a day, the results came in. They were not particularly optimistic. Out of ten simulations, six had ended in failure. As for the remaining four, all of them had occurred under specialized environmental conditions where subjective bias was overly pronounced. Once those were stripped away, their actual win rate was exceedingly low. A team member spoke through the boundary credential: "Sister Huan, every time we failed, it was because the target chose to withdraw as soon as the situation turned against him. The moment he made that decision, we lacked personnel capable of mounting a forceful interception, so we were unable to keep him contained unless the environment permitted." Sister Huan thought for a moment before asking, "What if we add Jiang Huowang into the equation?" The team member was taken aback. "That... we haven't modeled him yet, and we don't know the exact details of his current condition." Sister Huan asked, "Where is Jiang Huowang right now?" After a brief pause, the voice on the other end answered, "Cultivating at Tingchao Pavilion on Hui Island." "Track down Jiang Huowang. I want to see him within three days." "Understood." *** Meanwhile, after leaving Lulan Lake, Chen Chuan went straight to the residence the company had gifted him and stashed his newly acquired belongings inside. Once he stepped back outside, he considered his options, turned the steering wheel, and headed toward Shenwei District. A little over half an hour later, he pulled up in front of an underground combat gym. This was the gym where Senior Lu worked. Chen Chuan had never visited before, and since neither of them had been in contact recently, he decided to drop by while in the area. After parking his car, he walked into the gym. The signboard and entrance were relatively modest, but the interior was surprisingly spacious. Slipping off his shoes, he walked inside to find a group of youths shouting and sparring on the mats, while Lu Fang stood off to one side overseeing safety and offering guidance. Watching the young boys, Chen Chuan could not help thinking of the children in the Lower District. Whatever motives their parents had in sending them to learn combat arts, with the Great Collision looming on the horizon, this choice was probably the right one. "Junior Chen?" Lu Fang spotted Chen Chuan walking in, his face lighting up with genuine delight. He signaled for the kids to take a short break, then stepped off the mats and walked over. "What brings you here? Just passing through?" Chen Chuan said, "I happen to be on leave, so I came by to see you, Senior." Lu Fang ushered him to a sofa in the lounge area and brewed him a cup of tea. "I only have ordinary tea leaves here. I hope you don't mind." Chen Chuan smiled. "I don't drink fancy tea on regular days either." He glanced around and added, "Are you here alone, Senior?" Lu Fang replied, "The gym doesn't need that many people. The two seniors saw that I could manage the day-to-day operations on my own, so they took on a few private commissions. After all, training in combat arts comes with heavy expenses." Chen Chuan understood at once. Certain employers preferred hiring fighters without official backgrounds who possessed formidable combat prowess—that way, if anything went wrong, no one had to take responsibility. The two seniors fit the bill perfectly. He asked, "How's business at the gym?" Lu Fang said, "Plenty of patrons. Business has been great lately, and a few gangs even asked us to teach combat arts. The two seniors go over often, but I don't care for that sort of company, so I've dedicated myself to instructing the kids." He gazed toward the training mats. "Most of them will end up joining gangs, working as enforcers, or doing dirty work for others. While teaching them combat arts, I try to pass along some principles as well. Maybe it'll change their trajectory, even just a little." Chen Chuan looked out across the spacious floor, took a sip of tea, and said with a smile, "Speaking of which, Senior Lu, we haven't sparred since our match back at the academy." Lu Fang blinked in surprise, then his eyes lit up. He knew Chen Chuan had already attained the third limit. Calling this a sparring match was merely a polite way of offering him guidance—a rare opportunity. He rose to his feet immediately and said with complete earnestness, "Then I'll gladly trouble you for your guidance, Junior!"