Who? The Legitimate Heir of Ancient Rome?

"Crow!" Bai Zhou cried out, bolting upright from his bed as cold sweat drenched his back. In the dim light, Crow, completely unharmed, looked at him with an odd expression. "Having a nightmare? You yelled so loudly, like... like you'd seen a ghost." Crow's voice was slightly raspy, her soft tone laced with comfort, not unlike a mother coaxing a child who had cried out from a bad dream back to sleep. Yet that was precisely why her expression was so peculiar. Upon waking from a nightmare, the name Bai Zhou had instinctively shouted was hers... Was she really that important to him, that worthy of his reliance? For reasons she couldn't explain, a faint ripple stirred in the depths of her heart. —Though that tiny ripple in her pond of thoughts was promptly and thoroughly churned into mud by Bai Zhou thrusting in a manure fork. "Because the subject of my nightmare was you!" Bai Zhou answered honestly, the look he gave her unable to conceal his terror even in the shadowy room. "You have no idea what I saw!" Deep in the darkness, the corner of Crow's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "Dreaming of a lady is already exceedingly impolite." "Especially... a nightmare!" Impolite as it was, Crow could somewhat understand an adolescent boy dreaming about a vibrant, pretty young woman. After all, they spent day and night together, and she was exceptionally beautiful... But what did he mean, a nightmare? I'm asking you, what do you mean by a nightmare?! Not only was it rude, it was practically an insult! Yet as Crow peered through the gloom and saw Bai Zhou's visibly rattled, almost helpless face... Her brow furrowed, and her voice softened unconsciously. "Bai Zhou, what exactly did you see?" she asked gently. "I..." Bai Zhou turned his head toward her. That face of his, which always managed to maintain its composure—or at least fake it—was now overcome with unrestrained anxiety and lingering dread. His eyes shone in the dark, staring fixedly at the girl's figure perched on the ribbon not far away, as if terrified she might vanish from sight at any moment. "I..." His gaze stayed locked onto her, his voice dropping to a faint murmur. "I saw you dead..." *** "So, you dreamt of a female corpse that looked identical to me?" The lights were switched on. Crow squinted slightly, sitting cross-legged on the ribbon in deep thought. "A white expanse of land? Pitted with craters, and 'me' wearing a crown of thorns?" Sitting by the edge of the bed, Bai Zhou nodded. "But I've never seen such a place, let alone worn any crown of thorns." As she spoke, Crow's gaze drifted to the thorn ring on Bai Zhou's finger. "If it's this crown... I should have even less to do with it. It's an antique, but I'm hardly some resurrected mummy." "Besides..." "I'm not dead." Crow looked at Bai Zhou earnestly. "Even though my current state is rather strange, and I can't quite make heads or tails of it myself... I'm certain I'm still alive." "I can breathe, I can move, I can speak, and my body temperature stays at a steady, warm forty-two point two degrees—" Her tone was resolute. "I meet every single definition of being alive!" "Then what I dreamed of..." Bai Zhou recalled his vision. The sheer clarity of the dream was terrifying. That freezing, dead stillness had felt chillingly real, with bone-ash white sand piled beneath his feet, and at the time, he had felt completely weightless, unable to find his own center of gravity. "It wasn't me." Crow shook her head. "At the very least, I've never experienced anything like that." Not Crow? Then could it be Empress Irene of Rome? An Irene who looked identical to Crow? That didn't add up either... Others might not know, but through the fragments of her dying words, Bai Zhou had caught a glimpse of Irene's appearance. While extraordinarily beautiful, she still fell a fraction short of Crow, and the deep-set facial features characteristic of the Western Federation were a completely different style from Crow's. From the moment the giant golden hand appeared, Irene's face and form had blurred. The protagonist had changed at that very instant. "Do you..." Bai Zhou ventured tentatively, "have any connection to that Empress Irene?" "At least in my memory, my family has absolutely no connection to the Western Federation. We are of thoroughbred Eastern Federation descent." Crow spoke expressionlessly, a fleeting trace of disdain flickering in her eyes. "Those old men were utterly obsessed with the purity of our bloodline." Pausing thoughtfully, she looked at the ring on Bai Zhou's hand. "Perhaps this crown is transmitting some sort of warning to you, like a precognitive dream." "Things like that aren't uncommon in the mystic world. Someone once dreamt of a writhing mountain of flesh, and upon opening their eyes, they found themselves mysteriously summoned to a deserted island in the Atlantic, standing inside an abandoned stone temple." She continued, "The mystic world is far too bizarre. When a person dreams, it's as if an indiscriminate antenna is planted on their head; certain faint callings can be picked up by the dream, drawing the intrusion of mysterious forces." "Because of this, some factions simply advocate going without sleep entirely, while others have developed rituals to seal themselves off within their dreams." Crow went on, "As for your situation, we can't rule out the possibility that some mystic calling resonated with the crown's radiation at that moment, attempting to intrude upon your mind... taking the form of me, the person you are most familiar with, to inflict a heavier psychological shock." "Yet there's another possibility—the crown sent you a warning of its own, reminding you to remain vigilant in the near future." Crow looked at the ring on his finger with surprise. "I knew this black box was unusual, but I truly didn't expect this crown to possess the miraculous power to forewarn the future." *This crown has plenty more miraculous traits where that came from...* Bai Zhou grumbled inwardly. Still... "A precognitive dream?" Bai Zhou's brow furrowed sharply. "Doesn't that mean you might be in danger?" "Perhaps. But it could also just be about you." Crow shrugged and let out a yawn. "No one can see me. While I can't directly interfere with the physical world, no one can affect me, either." Narrowing her eyes slightly, she raised her raspy voice a notch in the dormitory. "If someone out there truly can threaten me, I'd genuinely love to know what holy terror they are." "Of course, there is one other possibility..." As if struck by a thought, she pressed her lips together, her emotionless face turning sharp and grim. "If this truly does concern me, it means certain things are arriving faster than I anticipated... But it's not as though I'm unprepared." Crow paused. She turned to Bai Zhou, her gaze complicated and intensely earnest as she spoke: "You need to grow stronger as quickly as possible... Bai Zhou." Bai Zhou felt a chill run through him. "And here I thought we could finally catch our breath." Bai Zhou blinked. "Looks like fate is still chasing behind us with a knife after all." Bai Zhou had a hunch. If this matter was indeed connected to Crow... Then the hidden truth behind how Crow had ended up in her current state might be about to surface. —Yet Bai Zhou also understood the unspoken implication. His current strength was nowhere near enough to process that level of information, let alone intervene in affairs of such magnitude. This was hardly the time for grand declarations or lofty speeches; instead, Bai Zhou fell silent. Even when he was being hunted across the entire city and running for his life, Bai Zhou had always been able to joke around and make the best of a bad situation... But now? Crow needed him. Bai Zhou had never hungered for strength as desperately as he did right now. Strength! Growing stronger! Fingering the thorn ring on his hand, he thought of Zhuluoji, of the Trojan civilization and the Xiluo Empire, of the altar mark on his wrist, and of all the dying words he had encountered along the way... To borrow a phrase Bai Zhou had recently picked up in Tinghai: He needed to turn on bigger hacks! *** Bai Zhou did not sleep for the rest of the night. Perched atop the icy, butt-numbing crystal ball, he closed his eyes and meditated. With spirituality circulating through his body, he spent the night deducing the Nine Basic Slashes, trying to chart a path toward Level 6. First, however... He had to figure out what the critical element for advancing to Level 6—"Spirit"—actually was. *** The following morning. At seven o'clock, bright daylight flooded the world. Equipped with the latest air purification systems, the Black Box Special Administration headquarters felt crisp and fresh despite being situated in an underground base. The circulating breeze moved with natural ease, and even the flowers planted along the paths glistened with translucent dew. The entire base was remarkably grand. The floors were uniform slabs of a specialized composite material, combining the hardness of stone with the resilience of plastic, gleaming in a pristine, solemn shade of charcoal-gray. Come winter's freezing chill, an unsteady elderly person walking across these floors would likely slip and lose half their teeth, effectively lightening the Special Control Bureau's pension burden. A ring of secretive six- to seven-story buildings, their heavy doors shut tight, encircled a central clock tower. Beneath the towering structure, a group of researchers in white lab coats were raising their arms and swaying their hips in unison, performing exercises to the looping tune of the eighteenth set of broadcast gymnastics, "The Federation Is Calling." "One! Two! Three! Four!" Chanted slogans rang out alongside the rhythmic thud of synchronized footsteps marching across the floor. "Clack, clack, clack... Halt!" A squad of trainees, barely a month into their enlistment, stood in neat formation. Each wore a form-fitting combat suit, surrounded by walls inscribed everywhere with slogans distinctive to the Special Control Bureau. "Look sharp!" A middle-aged man carrying a case spoke without glancing back, yet his voice reached every ear with crystal clarity. "Rookies. Today, my primary task is to give you a tour of the headquarters' grounds." The man wore a faded suit with a P6 badge pinned to his chest and held a silver-white metal briefcase embossed with a chain-bound cross on its side. He delivered his lecture with lazy arrogance, dripping with disdain, but these trainees, who had already endured over a month of hellish training, were long accustomed to their instructor's demeanor. Rookies were not entitled to personhood; during training, they were assigned numbers instead of names. "When we get back, remember to write a new report and submit it to your squad leaders..." As the man spoke, a balding fellow in a brown suit suddenly sprinted past holding a long fishing net, shouting strangely as he chased several translucent jellyfish drifting through the air. "Don't run! Stop! Are you deaf?! I said stop!" Creatures that belonged in the water were now eerily swimming through the air, electric arcs crackling faintly along their tentacles and nearly solidifying into tangible bolts that filled onlookers with dread. *Crackle...* Wherever the jellyfish passed, a scorched stench lingered. The crowd scattered in haste, steering clear of the translucent creatures as if dodging vipers. Yet the balding man in the brown suit roared at the top of his lungs while charging forward with astonishing speed, crossing over a dozen meters with every casual stride. An intimidating aura rolled off him in waves as he held the fishing net poised to strike. A closer look revealed that the fleeing jellyfish looked just like truant students vaulting a fence to escape a security guard, their tentacles paddling frantically like dragon boat racers as they bolted for dear life. In the blink of an eye, the shouting man and the fleeing jellyfish had traversed half the base, shrinking into distant specks. "...That was Director Ge of Logistics," the middle-aged man introduced without batting an eye. "The Talking Jellyfish. It is an F-rank mystic creature classified by the Statute Hall, discovered in the Ruin Realm a hundred and twenty years ago. Consuming it enhances brain development and sharpens the senses, and the potions concocted from it can assist in awakening Fate Principles. It is exceptionally rare." "Currently, Director Ge is conducting experiments in small-scale artificial breeding... If successful, it will be a momentous scientific breakthrough, earning the entire Bureau major commendations from Tianjing." "Naturally, the risks are equally high—a swarm of F-rank mystic creatures carries an F-rank destructive potential and hazard level, equivalent to multiple black boxes of the same rank. A single slip-up can cost lives!" Turning to the group, the man took on a solemn tone. "Yet matters like this are commonplace in the Special Control Bureau, right here in our headquarters." "Every laboratory, every department, down to every single full-fledged operative, has their own vital responsibilities." His gaze turned steadfast, his expression devout. "Remember, rookies: what we do is of supreme honor!" "Supreme honor!" The trainees' breathing grew heavy, their postures stiffening as their expressions ignited with fervor, hurriedly scribbling messy notes in their logbooks. "This is the Black Chamber Management Office, the most important place in the Black Box Special Administration, bar none." "This is the armory, housing an array of extraordinary weapons. The enchanted, cutting-edge equipment inside exceeds your wildest imaginations; I will introduce you to them one by one in due time." As the squad marched through the base, the lead instructor introduced each facility with an unyielding, serious expression, regularly passing fully armed patrol units carrying live ammunition. "This is the incubation room. You have no need to know its specific function; operatives below P6 lack clearance to set foot inside." "This is the training grounds. You've been rolling in the mud here every day lately, so I shouldn't need to elaborate." "This is..." "We control, we seal, we protect..." Finally, he uttered words that set the rookies' chests heaving with excitement: "This is the truth concealed behind the world!" Had Bai Zhou been here, the scene might have looked rather familiar—perhaps even reminding him of an old acquaintance. "As for this place..." The middle-aged man halted the group outside an imposing hall. Operatives in trench coats or suits, all bearing high-ranking badges, bustled in and out through the entrance, clutching files and carrying metal cases. Looking into the distance from outside, one could see a colossal electronic screen erected in the center of the hall, scrolling through an exhaustive list of missions with appended status markers: [Accepted], [In Progress], [Unclaimed], [Pending Archival]... "This is the Operations Hall. Senior operatives can accept missions here, and the contribution points earned from completing them can be exchanged for advancement resources. It is of utmost importance." "Furthermore, I must remind you: once your special training period concludes, you must wear your uniforms and badges at all times." He surveyed the crowd with a stern reprimand. "This is your life! It is also your sole means of identification within this base!" "Otherwise, if the Discipline Inspection Team catches you out of uniform, there will be no leniency! In certain restricted zones, you might even be treated as suspicious personnel and executed on the spot!" The gravity of his words sent a wave of panic through the trainees. "Report!" someone suddenly shouted. The middle-aged man frowned and turned, eager to see which troublemaker was speaking up. "Speak!" "That person—" A crew-cut trainee with a rebellious glint in his eye pointed toward a corridor. "Why is that person allowed to wander through the headquarters base without a uniform?" "How could that be..." The middle-aged man froze, following the trainee's finger. Around the corner of the corridor, a figure was ambling past at an unhurried, swaying pace. Calling him out of uniform was an understatement. The boy looked barely seventeen or eighteen, clad in loose white pajamas, both hands shoved casually into his pajama pockets as he shuffled along in his slippers with a rhythmic *pad-pad-pad*. His slouched, nonchalant gait stood out starkly against the surrounding patrol units marching in crisp goose-steps. Topped with a mop of messy hair and deep dark circles beneath his eyes, he hunched his back and dragged his feet. His unfocused gaze drifted blankly into the empty air ahead, like a daydreaming teen who hadn't fully woken up, completely lost in his own world. The rigid squad of trainees and their instructor watched him in silence, their eyes tracking his movement, yet the passerby never spared the formation a single glance from start to finish. It was absolute disregard. He brushed right past the trainee squad. Like a ghost haunting the base. —Though in truth, he looked far more like a street loafer. Right at that moment, a patrol team bearing "Discipline" armbands marched past in goose-steps, spotting the young man. *He's in for it now.* Recalling the terrifying rumors regarding the disciplinary inspectors, the trainees collectively shuddered, muttering inwardly. And yet. "Salute!" With a booming bark of command, the steel-helmeted, fully armed discipline inspectors halted in unison, snapping crisp salutes toward the pajama-clad "loafer." On the faces of these inspectors, normally steeped in cold arrogance and rigid severity, the trainees witnessed an expression of profound respect they had never seen before. "Huh?" Snapping out of his daze, Bai Zhou turned his head, hurriedly pulling his hands from his pajama pockets to return the salute with an awkward smile. "Thanks for your hard work, everyone!" *Buzz...* Celestial Pivot remained active within his Fate Principle space, countless sparks of thought flashing through his mind with every passing second. His deduction of the Sixth Basic Slash was faintly beginning to take shape; this was a critical juncture. Once the discipline inspectors moved on, Bai Zhou shuffled forward in his slippers, ignoring the stares around him as he headed toward the cafeteria. The silent squad of trainees watched Bai Zhou's receding figure, racking their brains to comprehend how someone younger than themselves could be worlds apart from them. Was this really the Black Box Special Administration? For all their repeated emphasis on discipline and regulations, privilege ran rampant without restraint. What a disappointment... "You lot..." The middle-aged man choked back his frustration for several seconds before finally erupting in a furious roar. "You are not the same!" "Compare yourselves to him? Do you even know who he is? You think you have the right to compare yourselves to him?!" Spit flew as the man jabbed his finger at the trainees' faces, berating them harshly: "Go take a piss and look at your own reflections!" "His name is Bai Zhou! Do you understand what those two words signify in Tinghai?! Even I am nothing before him!" "If any of you could achieve what he has, forget about whether you wear this suffocating uniform!" He tugged furiously at his collar. "The entire Bureau would treat you like kings! You could come and go as you pleased, skip clocking in, skip roll call, go wherever you wanted, and have anything your heart desired!" "Learn from him! If you rookies can achieve even a tenth of what he's accomplished in the future—" The man roared hoarsely at the bewildered trainees, "I'll be proud of you for the rest of my life!" Leaving it at that, the man did not delve further into the subject. With time pressing and a heavy schedule ahead, the rookies' tour of the Bureau was over; their grueling training was about to resume... He had heard that another newcomer was scheduled to report this afternoon, joining the squad midway through their regimen. Yet a seed had already been planted. The mysterious, lazy silhouette of that departing youth, along with the reverent expressions of the usually untouchable discipline inspectors, left an indelible mark on those green trainees. They did not know who he was, nor did they understand what the name "Bai Zhou" truly represented. Yet they remembered this day, and they remembered this exact scene. As they climbed the ranks of the Special Control Bureau in the years to come, they would gradually learn of the feats that man had accomplished. Yet the stronger they grew and the more they discovered, that silhouette would not become clearer; instead, it would recede farther and rise higher, until they looked up at it like an insurmountable mountain, viewing it as a lifelong summit to chase. Even though... the mountain itself had likely never registered their existence at all. Like a breeze sweeping over a stream, unintentionally stirring ripples across the water, rustling the branches of the woods, and shaking loose a single leaf into the current to drift far away with the rushing water. The wind moved on. Yet the leaf continued to sway. The river continued to flow. And the places touched by the wind were never quite the same again. People called this "influence." *** *The Sixth Basic Slash seems quite different from the previous ones...* Nearing the cafeteria, Bai Zhou finally pieced together the pattern in his deductions. When he had practiced the first five slashes, every move and stance had been complete. He simply followed the diagrams, practicing by rote, and mastery naturally followed. Yet from the sixth slash onward, the diagrams no longer illustrated "how to cut," but rather explained "why to cut this way"—expounding the underlying principles behind the technique. Once Bai Zhou could synthesize these principles, he would effectively complete the transition from "Intent" to "Spirit," shifting from having Intent in the blade to possessing Spirit within it. Yet there was a catch— The Sixth Basic Slash possessed core principles but lacked a concrete form. Consequently, Bai Zhou still required a tangible framework to incorporate the Sixth Basic Slash into, forging it into a Sixth Basic Slash unique to himself. *Perhaps that is precisely why the Nine Basic Slashes are called 'Basic.'* Bai Zhou had an epiphany. *It's not just that the Nine Basic Slashes can become the Nine Basic Punches or the Nine Basic Swords, but because later on, they can assimilate secret techniques, transforming them into proprietary arts bearing the hallmark of the Nine Basic Slashes!* As practitioners advanced, the Nine Basic Slashes they wielded would vary drastically, naturally resulting in differing levels of power and distinct characteristics. —Perhaps this was inherently a profound, foundational blueprint for the extraordinary! Bai Zhou was currently like someone holding the finest specialized gasoline, capable of generating immense power, yet he still lacked an engine to burn it. Once fuel met engine, the fusion would trigger a qualitative leap, yielding an effect where one plus one far exceeded two. In short, Bai Zhou needed a secret technique of the Adventurer pathway. It didn't necessarily have to be a Level 6 secret technique containing the mysteries of "Spirit"; any technique from that pathway would suffice, so long as it possessed sufficiently powerful characteristics. Because the Nine Basic Slashes already provided the most crucial core. If Bai Zhou possessed another Adventurer pathway technique akin to the Moon Cinder Holy Oath Slash, he could directly adapt it into the Basic Moon Cinder Holy Oath Slash. A basic name, but a power that was anything but basic. *Find an Adventurer pathway secret technique...* Bai Zhou pondered. *Without restrictions on the specific level, it might be somewhat difficult, but it's manageable with some effort.* Hoping to find an Adventurer secret technique in the modern world seemed virtually impossible. However, Bai Zhou could start with the Xiluo Empire—more specifically, he intended to randomly pick a lucky spectator from the Xiluo Empire to sacrifice, trading them for a secret technique reward from Troy. *I hope that lucky spectator enjoys the warm, expansive embrace of Trojan history,* Bai Zhou mused. Lost in thought, Bai Zhou walked up the steps and entered the clean, orderly cafeteria. The ceiling fans whirred overhead, and the air conditioning blasted refreshing cold air. The spacious cafeteria spanned five floors, offering an exhaustive variety of breakfasts. Almost without thinking, Bai Zhou headed straight for the spicy soup counter. Initially, Bai Zhou hadn't cared for it, but after Brother Liu left, he found himself occasionally craving the taste of spicy soup. Especially now, situated in a similar Bureau base, watching researchers do calisthenics, green recruits undergoing training, and armed soldiers patrolling, a strange, complicated feeling welled up within him. Yet as Bai Zhou carried his bowl of spicy soup to a table, he finally pinpointed the oddity that had been nagging at the back of his mind. In a base this massive, with so many personnel, why wasn't anyone fighting for seats at breakfast? Bai Zhou rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes and looked around, noticing only a sparse handful of operatives eating in the hall. Did the Bureau's staff simply lack the habit of eating breakfast, or did they have access to private kitchens? *Slurp...* Bai Zhou took sips from the rim of his bowl, idly pondering the question. "Found you, Bai Zhou!" A familiar voice reached his ears. It was Gem Witch. The masked figure hurried over, instantly drawing eyes in the sparsely populated dining hall. "Here so early?" Bai Zhou greeted her. "Want some food?" It was free anyway. The Bureau's cafeteria didn't cost a dime. "How can you still be sitting here eating?" Gem Witch walked up and rolled her eyes. "The headquarters' elites and senior leadership have all headed to the central plaza. Aren't you going to check it out?" "What are they gathering at the plaza for? Did they catch someone from the Luo family to hold a bonfire ritual?" Bai Zhou took a crisp, audible bite of a fried dough stick, soft on the inside, answering through a mouthful of food. If it were the latter... Bai Zhou might actually be interested. "An important figure has arrived!" Gem Witch grew serious, though the topic did little to pique Bai Zhou's interest. "Recently, an exchange delegation from Fog Capital in the Western Federation arrived in Tinghai. They've already visited the Statute Hall and the Anomaly Investigation Bureau—and just this morning, they graced the Special Control Bureau with their presence." "Fog Capital! One of the top five megacities in the Western Federation! Ranked among the top ten across the entire Blue Star!" "Oh..." Bai Zhou kept his head down, chewing his fried dough stick. A freshly fried dough stick dipped in spicy soup was absolute perfection. If he waited any longer, it would get soggy. "And that's not all," Gem Witch continued. "They've organized friendly sparring sessions among the younger generation." "The leader is a young lord from Fog Capital. That prince claims to be the legitimate heir of ancient Rome from its peak of glory a thousand years ago!" Gem Witch appeared thoroughly intrigued, possessing an unusual fascination with the matter. "Are you really not going to take a look? This is an undeniable big shot; even the Statute Emissary is attending to him with utmost care." "..." The hand Bai Zhou used to hold the dough stick froze beside the bowl of spicy soup. Who? Ancient Rome? The legitimate heir of ancient Rome? Bai Zhou blinked. Then he heard Gem Witch add: "Word has it that the prize for this sparring exchange was put forward by that very prince." "It's a fragmented secret technique of the Adventurer pathway, excavated by his own hands from the ruins of ancient Roman civilization within the last two years—" "—The Thousand-Blade Vortex Slash!"