The day had worn on, and without eating dinner, Yang Zicang returned to his room and threw himself onto the bed. He didn’t want to deal with anything—couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger, only wanted to sleep.
But the moment his head touched the pillow, a knock sounded at the door.
–……–
Yang Zicang had no intention whatsoever of getting up to answer it.
Outside the door, Zuoluo glanced at the room card slot on the door, which displayed a yellow smiley face indicating someone was inside.
The Moxel on his chest lit up.
[Zicang, are you in there?]
Within moments, dragging footsteps came from inside, and the door clicked open a crack.
Zuoluo was startled at the sight of Yang Zicang’s heavy dark circles—his eyes were hollow and spiritless, as if all his vitality had been drained, standing motionless in the doorway.
Zuoluo’s eyes darted to the smiley on the doorplate, then slowly shifted to confirm the dark circles standing before him.
–You… what happened?-
The man inside dragged his feet, turned, and walked to the bed, sitting down without a word.
Zuoluo followed him in and couldn’t help shivering, sensing the eerie, gloomy atmosphere pervading the room.
–This is… the power of Right of Mental Manifestation? It’s incredible—you can already release such strength from it. One more step, I’m afraid you could create a scene that feels truly real, as if it’s actually descended.-
As he spoke, Jiaoma appeared at the door, holding a food container and a bowl of soup.
The girl gave a smile: –Xiao Luo, you’ve come to see him too.-
She walked in, closed the door behind her, and curiously took in the small but cozy suite.
It was her first time entering Yang Zicang’s room.
–What’s wrong with him?- Zoro asked, eyeing the curious girl.
–Oh, our Zicang has had a long day. This morning alone, he placed nearly four thousand five hundred treasure chests and built three combat scenarios with willpower tests. This afternoon, he also constructed a secret passage and a small lottery wheel.-
–Huh?- The man stared in shock at the withered young man sitting on the edge of the bed. No wonder he was radiating such a dark, ominous aura—he looked like his mental energy was on the verge of spiraling out of control.
The girl walked over to the drowsy Yang Zicang, sat down beside him on the bed, scooped up a spoonful of soup, scraped it against the rim of the container, and brought it to his lips.
–Come on, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.-
–You two… what do you actually want? I need to sleep.- Yang Zicang flopped face-first onto the pillow.
Zoro glanced at Jiaoma, cleared his throat, and said, –Group Leader Jiaoma, have you ever seen a Lost Thought Engine?-
–No, I haven’t. But I’ve only seen pictures of them.-
The man turned to Yang Zicang and said,
–Yesterday, I went to the Document Library and found a method for making a special Lost Thought Engine on one of the shelves.-
Yang Zicang’s eyes flew open instantly.
[I have broken through my limit.]
A faint coolness gradually seeped through his groggy mind.
This cool sensation was just like the first and last time, when I’d dragged that twisted terrain out of the Oblivion Band.
–Lucid Sense– was slowly spinning up.
The tidal solitude of the forest suddenly turned warm and moist.
[First Action Department employee card indicates: I’ve reached Third Ring, First Level mental strength.]
–Hoo～–
Yang Zicang rubbed his face, sat up, glanced at Jiao Ma with a smile, then picked up the box with both hands and gulped down the soup.
With the soup and the breakthrough in mental strength, the young man felt his body and mind truly ease a little. But this breakthrough came from pushing his body to its limits—if he doesn’t rest well, an ordinary person might be left with lasting damage.
Yang Zicang looked at Zoro. –Are there special Oblivion Engines out there?–
–Of course there are.–
Jiao Ma picked up the lunch box and sat closer. –Here, have some rice before you sleep.–
Yang Zicang smiled and took the chopsticks himself. He looked at Zoro, who was standing with hands on his hips, and said:
–That Oblivion Engine—was it like the photo I used before?–
Zoro’s lips twitched—he didn’t deny it, but didn’t confirm it either.
Jiao Ma turned to Zoro. –Oh, are you two still hung up on what happened in the Frequency-Lost Land? Go back now. Hurry, hurry.–
She stood up and started pushing Zoro toward the door. –Don’t bother our Zicang while he’s eating.–
–I only came over to say that last night, Huan Bao’er cadre asked me to join her group. From now on, I’m her direct subordinate.–
Yang Zicang looked at Zorro in a daze, suddenly feeling that something might be wrong.
Jiao Ma said with joyful surprise:
–Ah! That really calls for congratulations. I was wondering why you insisted on coming just now—so you’ve been favored by godmother.-
Zorro at the door chuckled:
–Or maybe I’ve been caught. Haha, I’ll be off now. Captain Jiao Ma, I’ll come find you guys to hang out later. See ya.-
He waved his hand, twisted the door open, and left.
–Caught?-
Jiao Ma frowned, then put aside that perplexing remark.
She turned around, idly swinging her hands, looking around the room. In her memory, she only had impressions of them from when she was very young.
–Caught…- Yang Zicang sighed with a complex expression. Sure enough, things weren’t going smoothly. It seemed that the message about –Anjin- left by that Russian would ultimately fail—probably no one would succeed in passing it out and making it public.
–Then…- Jiao Ma looked at Yang Zicang, who didn’t seem inclined to talk, and twirled her fingers a little sheepishly. –I’ll head back, okay?-
Yang Zicang looked up as if startled, and nodded with some hesitation:
–Yeah, get some rest early. I expect that next, Director Croft will be coming after you guys.-
The moment Jiao Ma heard the name Croft, her little face turned pale.
By the end of the day, everyone could see that Yang Zicang was just brought in as a demonstrator. There was no way the entire Magic Hero Hall would let him handle everything on his own.
Next, it was up to the three hundred people to tackle the tens of thousands of new additions.
……
Yang Zicang woke up from a nap and felt much better—almost fully recovered.
Though the mental drain was severe, within the Lost Illusion Company, the environment itself nourished and restored the spirit; otherwise, every time he extracted a lost frequency mental wave, he would need to rest for a long while.
He turned his head and looked around the dark room. The fluorescent glow of the wall clock showed it wasn’t even midnight yet.
Seeing that there was still half an hour before the witching hour, and guessing Zorro might be resting late tonight, a Moxel lit up on Yang Zicang’s chest, and hair-like quadrilateral threads flickered into the air.
{You recovered so quickly.}
–Group Leader Jiao Ma’s soup tastes good,- Yang Zicang said lazily. –What about you? Did you ramp up the tasks after getting back to your group? Your group should only have half the people working now, right?-
{Hmph, enough with the small talk. I’ll be blunt—I’ve obtained the method for building the Sub-Ether Tunnel Engine, but I can’t reveal the formula. Also, how many Lost Thought Moxels do you have? I’d like to borrow some.}
–I see…-
According to the data, the key material for crafting the Lost Thought Engine—which might lead to –Dark Gold Hub Town-—could require –Quadrilateral Lost Thought Moxel.-
In the sensing image, Zorro was writing something. Yang Zicang continued:
{The frequency-lost Moxel here are all obtuse angles and triangles, and there are very few—only five or six.}
Yang Zicang exhaled upward, stirring the hair that hung down over his forehead.
–Quadrilaterals on the frequency-lost land are extremely scarce. Although I’ve prepared some triangular lost-thought Moxel here, they’re also few in number.–
{The editor-in-chief went to the frequency-lost land and caused a disaster—didn’t that give rise to any quadrilateral lost-thought Moxel?}
The man in the sensing image knew his own words were a bit far-fetched, but this was still the greatest chance of obtaining a quadrilateral lost-thought Moxel in the coming months.
–I’ve asked around privately, but I haven’t heard any related news.–
Yang Zicang thought for a moment and said,
–Even if they really had bad luck and died, since they own quadrilateral Moxel, even in death they should die in more dangerous places—like those cracked canyons.–
{Alas, yes. I’m afraid even if someone found them, they wouldn’t hand them over.}
Pausing, Zoro said,
{As I told you before, the information I got from a certain bookshelf has been classified by the Director-General—no sharing allowed. Ha, now I’m constantly under the nose of Director-General Huan Bao’er. I’m afraid all I can do is wait until my chess skills are refined, then find an opportunity to build you a sub-ether tunnel engine that excludes certain special coordinates. I hope by then you haven’t already stepped onto a new destiny.}
Yang Zicang sat quietly on the edge of the bed in the darkness.
The room was silent and boundless, only the –tick-tock– sound simulated by the clock.
–No…–
A young man’s emotionless voice suddenly sounded in the darkness.
On the other side, Zoro looked up, watching the blurry silhouette of the young man’s face on the sensory screen. In those hollow eyes, a pure light gradually flickered.
{Maybe… there’s still a way to build it right now.}
–Now?- Zoro put down his pen. –What are you planning to do?-
{I’ve got ten of my triangular Forgotten Moxels left, and you have at least four or five.}
–Yeah, but… ah, I see. You want to gamble on Up-Freq? The odds are way too low, though. And I can’t tell you the engine formula—there’s no way I can Up-Freq a three-cylinder into a four-cylinder.-
Yang Zicang glanced at the wall clock provided by the Lost Illusion Company.
23:48:09
Zoro also looked at the clock in his own room.
23:48:11
Yang Zicang’s voice came through the sensory screen:
{But we still have Lele. Let me check today’s luck.}
The broken line flickered. Zoro, startled, looked down at the ring on his chest. The connection was severed.
–Still have Lele? How does that work?-
He couldn’t quite grasp Yang Zicang’s plan.
……
Wang Dingshan, fast asleep, was jolted awake by a knock on the door from Yang Zicang.
–What’s up?- Wang Dingshan opened the door, wearing a triangular sleeping cap and rubbing his eyes, clutching a scratch-off ticket.
The Scratch-off Enightmare’s dark red eyes swept over. Before it could make out anything, a broken line flickered and shot toward it.
Wang Dingshan’s employee card materialized on its own.
–Huh?-
–Hurry, there’s less than two minutes left. Scratch a lottery ticket for me. I remember you need one year of principal, right?-
[Yang Zicang wants me to open the lottery for him.]
–Yo, rushing to die, are we?- Wang Dingshan suddenly perked up. –I just happen to have one chance left unused today.-
Even though it was only one year of principal, Wang Dingshan got excited every time someone scratched a ticket. It wasn’t about how much Chronos he could earn; it was mainly about the thrill of opening the lottery.
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