harleyscars Chapter 13 Rational Investing
Chapter 13 Rational Investing
The outer layer of the mother nest, stripped of all its core support, collapsed inward as if its last breath had been drained! The accumulated, out-of-control, terrifying energy was about to put on a grand, indiscriminate fireworks display. The dark green skin on its surface rapidly faded to ashen gray, and countless cracks spread out with a crackling sound, like a porcelain doll shattered by a naughty child. The mystical runes on the altar exploded one after another, and the spatial rifts, as if startled, trembled and contracted wildly, as if they wanted to pack up and run away on the spot.
"Success?! Retreat outside and wait for the settlement!" Ah Qi shouted, punching the monster in front of him away, then turned and picked up the now limp, noodle-like Secret Eye. Iron Anvil also pushed aside the Defender who was barely breathing and ran outside.
Evan scrambled out from behind the wrecked metal plate, his glasses askew, his face screaming, "It's a miracle I'm still alive."
As for Cheng Song, the moment the fireworks exploded on the altar, he was blasted away by the out-of-control energy turbulence of the Mother Nest. He drew an ungraceful arc in the air and then landed face down on the gravel outside, covered in blood and motionless, looking like a crime scene.
"Cleaner, buddy!" Iron Anvil rushed over and scooped Cheng Song up. He was ice-cold to the touch, but the carotid artery in his neck was still throbbing weakly.
The cave began to collapse, boulders fell like dumplings being dropped into a pot, and the ground cracked. The enormous body of the Mother Nest, like chocolate ice cream under the scorching sun, rapidly melted and collapsed, and the energy accumulated inside, freed from its final restraint, erupted in a final, devastating explosion.
The copy crash triggered the system protection mechanism.
The blinding white light acted like an eraser, irrationally wiping away all sights, sounds, and even sensations.
Ling Street, Public Return Square.
The white light receded like the tide, revealing five figures, seemingly just pulled from a pool of blood, that appeared out of thin air and landed with thuds on the cold ground, instantly attracting the attention of a few scattered players nearby. However, most of those gazes were indifferent, as if to say, "Oh, another batch of lucky ones have returned alive," and they quickly looked away. Here, many were missing limbs or barely clinging to life; their condition could barely be considered a children's meal.
"Cough cough... spit!" Tie Anvil, exhausted, threw Cheng Song to the ground, then knelt on one knee and coughed up a mouthful of black blood mixed with fragments of internal organs. His once-proud heavy armor was now a performance art exhibit, riddled with holes and dents, and every inch of his exposed skin was unscathed. But he was panting heavily, his eyes fierce—being alive was a blessing.
Ah Qi gently placed the Secret Eye on the ground, then leaned back against the lamppost, her chest heaving violently. Her moon-white outfit was now tattered in an artistic way, revealing several horrific, gaping wounds beneath. Her face was pale, and her eyes were tinged with an inescapable weariness.
With Ivan's trembling support, Mi Tong managed to sit up. The large black robe she wore now resembled a beggar's, and her breath was so weak it seemed as if it might break at any moment. The eerie green eyes beneath the hood were dim and almost extinguished.
Ivan was also covered in dust and dirt, one side of his glasses was broken, and the frame was hanging crookedly on his nose. He frantically pulled out various bottles and jars of suspicious color and pungent smell from his white lab coat, which was so worn that its original color was no longer recognizable, and tried to pour them down the throats of the most pitiful-looking Iron Anvil and Secret Eye.
Cheng Song was actually fully conscious, but the virus in his body seemed to have dropped out and stopped responding to him. Without the virus's support, his exhausted and broken body became unresponsive after being blasted away by the explosion.
He slowly opened his eyes, his vision initially blurry, then filled with double images. Immediately afterwards, an overwhelming, excruciating pain surged through his limbs, but even clearer than the pain was the cold, robotic notification in his mind, and the frantically flashing messages on his retina:
[Team raid "Hatchery" cleared!]
[Task evaluation in progress...]
[Due to revealing the core truth "The Rite of the Father's Descent," interrupting the intervention of a higher-level being (projection), and completing the final objective under dynamically increased difficulty (B+), the mission completion rating is: S!]
[Experience calculation in progress...]
[Points being calculated...]
[Rewards being generated...]
Immediately afterward, a warm current surged into his riddled body. It was the repair and attribute boost brought about by the level up! The Lv3 experience bar jumped wildly, instantly breaking through! Lv4! It didn't stop, continuing to soar! Lv5! Finally, at more than halfway through Lv5, it slowly came to a stop.
Two levels higher! The grating crackling of bones healing, the tingling sensation of muscle fiber restructuring, and the slight stinging from rapidly scabbing wounds—though still weak, he was at least out of the ICU. The virus within him seemed to have undergone some indescribable tempering and satisfaction during that high-end buffet and the direct confrontation with his father's contamination, now lazily lurking deep within, conveying a sense of "I'm full, don't bother me." But Cheng Song could clearly feel that it had become more solidified.
The list of individual awards unfolds before your eyes:
[B+ Difficulty, S-Rank Completion Treasure Chest]
[Spirit Crystals Received: +85,000]
[Special Material: "Purified Source Blood Crystal" - Note: A scrap from a somewhat unhappy projection of an evil god, but it has been cleaned thoroughly and is safe to use.]
[Special Material: "Titan Guardian Power Crystal" (Epic) - Note: A parting gift from an unnamed Titan lady, containing pure power of protection and order, but with poor compatibility with chaotic evil foes.]
[Title Unlocked: Devourer of Blasphemy]
Title? Looking at this title system that he had just unlocked, Cheng Songyang raised his eyebrows and randomly brought up the system panel.
Blasphemous Bite:
New menu item: Can devour non-physical units, improving digestion efficiency, but consumes sanity when devouring non-physical units.
High-profile attention: The probability of being noticed by beings with divinity, such as righteous gods, evil gods, and ancient gods, is greatly increased. When dealing with such beings, the initial favorability rating is either "dislike" or "curiosity".
Desecration Aura: When you use the Devour ability, all units within a 50-meter radius that witness the devouring scene (including allies) must make a sanity check; failure results in a brief period of discomfort. This is automatically considered a provocation against the Father and related units.
Cheng Song stroked his chin. The Devouring ability could now be used against non-physical units, which was a decent improvement. The second high-level attention wouldn't have a significant impact; as a level 5, he didn't have many opportunities to encounter gods. As for the Blasphemy aura… it might actually harm his teammates, forcing him to be a lone wolf.
Cheng Song's gaze lingered on the "Titan Guardian Power Crystal" for a couple more seconds. He could feel the warm, white-glowing, beautiful stone that had suddenly appeared in his inventory. An epic material—the name alone sounded incredibly powerful. But the virus within him instinctively rejected and disliked this pure, aura-filled guardian power. It was like a spicy hot pot meeting a clear broth—they could sit at the same table, but they were destined to be incompatible. In his hands, the effect of this thing would likely be halved.
What he cared more about was that new thing deep in his soul—an incomplete three-dimensional coordinate map barely outlined by shimmering starlight lines. There was no cold system notification sound, no detailed item description pop-up, but it was firmly imprinted in his sea of consciousness, carrying the last faint warmth and heavy entrustment of the Titan's legacy before it dissipated. This was the real hidden prize.
Then, he raised his eyelids and looked at his teammates, who were also in a sorry state, not far away.
Although Ah Qi's steps were still a little unsteady, her chilling aura of "keep away, strangers, and even acquaintances should keep their distance" had begun to cool her down again. She walked up to Cheng Song, stopped, and looked down at him.
Their eyes met in mid-air. The suspicious glances in the corridor, the strange tacit understanding of mutual distrust during the battle, the choices and cooperation after entering the door... countless scenes flashed wildly in the silent air.
After about seven or eight seconds, Ah Qi finally spoke. Her voice was hoarse and low from exhaustion, but every word was as clear as if it had been sculpted from ice, so distinct it could make a ringing sound:
"You..." She paused for a rare moment, as if trying to figure out how to describe this eccentric teammate, "...not bad." Her eyes already indicated that she barely acknowledged this madman's combat ability and reliability in crucial moments, but the fundamental question of "what kind of monster are you?" remained unresolved, and she remained highly vigilant.
Having said that, she stopped wasting words and turned around decisively. Her moon-white outfit, now stained with blood like an abstract painting, swayed slightly with her steps. Although she was still a little unsteady, she resolutely disappeared into the crowd on Spirit Street.
With Ivan's clumsy help, Mi Tong also moved over. His deep green eyes gazed intently at Cheng Song, then seemed to pierce through his skin as he hoarsely uttered a few words, like rusty gears grinding together:
"I just lifted the spell, but the storm... has been planted in your soul. You'd better watch yourself." This sounds like something a charlatan would say, but considering his previous behavior, it probably means, "You're in big trouble, kid. Good luck."
He didn't say anything more, nodded very slightly to Cheng Song, then gestured towards the anvil. Then, his tattered black robe fluttered without wind, and his figure seemed to blend into the shadows, slowly fading away and disappearing.
With the help of the upgrade and the potent drug Ivan had forced him to drink—a drug with a smell comparable to a biological weapon—Iron Anvil had finally recovered to about 70-80%. Using the broken door hammer, bent into an abstract work of art, as a crutch, he shakily stood up. His eyes had regained their rock-solid composure, and even, having survived the ordeal, they held an added touch of fierce courage. He looked at Cheng Song, grinned, and with difficulty raised his hand, giving Cheng Song a forceful thumbs-up.
The mission was over, the team disbanded, and he gestured for Evan to help him leave.
"Anvil, wait a minute." Cheng Song's voice suddenly rang out, still hoarse, but much calmer, even a little cheerful.
The anvil stopped moving, and Ivan turned around in confusion, his eyes behind his glasses clearly asking, "What else do you need, boss?"
Cheng Song flipped his hand and took out the [Titan Guardian Power Crystal] from his personal space. The thumb-sized, milky-white crystal lay quietly in his blood-stained palm, spontaneously emitting a warm, resolute, and inexplicably reassuring white glow. Inside the crystal, it seemed as if a small, slowly flowing galaxy was sealed. A pure and powerful aura of protection and order quietly spread out, instantly dispelling a small part of the cold atmosphere of the surrounding Spirit Street, like a small nightlight suddenly lit in the darkness.
The moment Iron Anvil's gaze fell upon the crystal, it was as if he were drawn to it by a magnet, unable to look away! As a seasoned tank who had tasted blood on the edge of a knife, with resilience and the protection of teammates etched into his DNA, he possessed an almost instinctive desire for any treasure that could enhance his defense and protective abilities! Judging from the aura emanating from this crystal, it was practically his dream stone! He could feel his shattered heavy shield, now retired, the countless hidden injuries accumulated within his body from years of serving as a human punching bag, and even the weariness deep within his soul caused by carrying too much—all resonating and calling out with thirst for this crystal!
His breathing became uncontrollably heavy, his Adam's apple bobbed violently, and his usually composed eyes now churned with undisguised shock, ecstasy, and a hint of disbelief. Epic material! And the most crucial and coveted epic material for his career path! This thing would be absolutely priceless on the market, enough to drive tank players to desperation!
"This... is too expensive, I can't afford it." The anvil's voice was dry, like sandpaper scraping. He forced himself to look away, his gaze complex as he looked at Cheng Song. "Epic materials... you yourself..."
"I can't use it, the attributes conflict." Cheng Song interrupted him, his tone as flat as if he were saying, "I don't eat clear broth hot pot." He even subtly pointed to his chest, implying that the person inside him had rather picky tastes, incompatible with this upright protective power. "But you're different. If you hadn't been there to protect us, let alone an S-rank, we might not have even made it out alive. Not to mention you pulled me out at the last minute, otherwise I would have been stuck in there waiting to die."
He paused, then extended his hand further, the crystalline light illuminating his pale face. "Take it. This is a waste of my talent; giving it to you is putting it to good use. Besides..." He forced a weak but shrewd smile, "consider it an investment. If I get into trouble later, I might need your shield to save my life." He wasn't doing a favor; he was making... the most cost-effective and profitable venture and relationship-building investment for himself.
The anvil stared intently at the alluring crystal in Cheng Song's hand, then looked up and gazed deeply into Cheng Song's eyes. There was no feigned politeness or condescending superiority on that young face.
Silence fell, and the hustle and bustle of the Spirit Street seemed to fade away at that moment.
Finally, with trembling hands, Tiezhen Shin solemnly held the object as if it were a fragile, rare treasure, or a weighty promise.
The moment the crystal touched his hand, a gentle yet powerful warm current rushed up his arm and straight to his heart, quickly spreading to every part of his body! The anvil trembled, as if he could hear countless tiny injuries within his body rejoicing. His weary soul was enveloped in warmth, and the "Guardian" heart belonging to a top-level defender resonated strongly with the power within the crystal! His aura stabilized and became heavier at an incredible speed.
He hadn't yet decided how to use the crystal—whether to craft equipment or something else—but the mere aura emanating from it filled him with immense joy. When he looked up at Cheng Song again, his eyes were swirling with extremely complex emotions—shock, gratitude, deep admiration, and a hint of understanding.
"I, Iron Anvil," he began, his voice deep and resonant like the clash of metal, "owe you an immense favor."
He took a deep breath, as if to engrave this promise into his very bones: "From now on, whether in the spiritual realm or in reality, if there is anything I can do to help you..." His spiritual realm friend request came through, "...I'll go through fire and water without hesitation."
This is a promise heavier than any system contract or oath of heaven. It comes from a man who earned absolute credibility with his shield and back amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, a veteran tank who values protection and promises more than his own life.
Cheng Song smiled and nodded, readily accepting the friend request icon that shone with a calm light: "Okay, got it. See you later."
Tiezhen said nothing more, carefully clutching the crystal to his body as if it were his new heart. He clasped his hands in a deep fist salute to Cheng Song, bowing deeply to the ground. Then, supported by Yiwen, he turned and left. His steps were still heavy, but each step seemed more steady and powerful than before, even subtly causing the dust on the surrounding ground to tremble. That crystal not only healed his injuries at an astonishing speed, but also seemed to be tempering and reshaping his physique and his unwavering belief, impervious to pressure.
Leaning against the anvil, Ivan couldn't help but turn back before leaving, glancing quickly at Cheng Song. The fear in his eyes had long been replaced by a fervent admiration and curiosity. His lips moved several times, as if he had countless questions to ask, but after seeing Cheng Song's weak yet inexplicably intimidating aura, he ultimately didn't ask any of them, and hurriedly followed the anvil, disappearing around the corner of Spirit Street.
The once bustling public rest stop was now empty except for Cheng Song.
The ever-present background noise of the Spirit Street was constant—whispers from who-knows-where, distant, indistinct arguments or transactions, strange music emanating from some shops, or the hissing of unidentified creatures, and all sorts of figures, strangely dressed and exuding various dangerous or eerie auras, hurrying past. Occasionally, someone would catch a glimpse of his blood-soaked appearance, but would merely look away indifferently, or reveal a hint of barely perceptible greed. Here, serious injury was the norm, death was commonplace, and scars were both badges of bravery and marks of weakness.
The bloodstains on his body were rapidly drying, darkening, and forming hard scabs, which then peeled away with the slightest movement, revealing the newly formed, slightly pale skin beneath. But the deep-seated exhaustion left by the battle, the dizziness and dull pain from the repeated impacts of the Father's projection, the subtle fullness brought by the newly added star map imprint deep within his soul, and the Blacklight virus within his body, though dormant, seemed to have undergone a high-pressure forging, becoming increasingly profound and unpredictable, exuding an aura of "I am no longer the same ignorant person"... all of these things vividly reminded him of everything he had just experienced.
He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the gray sky of Spirit Street, reaching into an unknowable dimension. The enormous phantom formed by billions of cold compound eyes beyond the crack had already imprinted on him an indelible mark, a mixture of instinctive hostility and greedy covetousness. It was a power of the same origin as the black light, a karmic entanglement that would inevitably be settled sooner or later.
The father's gaze may have temporarily faded, but the cause and effect have been laid. A new name, one requiring close attention, may have quietly been added to the list of reapers. And the enigmatic Titan ruins await silently on the other side of the star map.
There's also the bowl of porridge at home, which may have gone cold and been reheated by his mother, the dozens of missed calls on his phone, and the blind date he postponed.
Cheng Song tugged at the corner of his mouth, causing the dried scabs on his face to move. He could clearly feel the power surging within his Lv5 body, a power far greater than before. Accompanying this was an even larger, deeper, colder hunger deep within his stomach, as if connected to an endless void.
He pulled a cigarette case from his tattered pocket; the last cigarette inside was bent. He carefully straightened it little by little, then put it in his mouth. The lighter clicked several times before a tiny flame appeared.
The firelight drew closer, illuminating his blood-stained, dust-covered, and weary face. He took a deep breath; the pungent, harsh smoke, carrying a hollow solace, sank into his lungs, bringing a familiar, yet real, slight dizziness. Then, with a long sigh, it dissipated into bluish-gray smoke, drifting away over the Spirit Street.
Then, he stood up, dusted himself off, and crushed the nearly burnt-out cigarette butt on the ground.
He exhaled a smoke ring, took one last look at the bizarre and dazzling gathering place of players, turned around, and walked towards that ordinary, mundane, yet desperately graspable door to a peaceful life.