The news that Major Client Cargo Crew had united with various Peng Zones to refine the Shin Engine and stabilize the mountain range quickly spread, immediately drawing countless debates and skeptical gazes.
Swarms of light clusters appeared in the sky, as if probing the truth of this claim.
In the twilight, the bustling market remained lively. On the crowded streets, the faint outline of a figure flickered briefly before vanishing from sight.
A few passersby laughed and chatted as they walked past the very spot where it had stood.
The man, standing still and silent, felt the ebb and flow of the pedestrians around him, as if he had transcended the mundane world.
[Nothing belongs to me.]
He raised his hand in delight, and the phantom arm, visible only to himself, shimmered faintly as his palm clenched into a fist.
[Yet everything lies within my grasp.]
Wuying gazed at the countless surging heads, as if beholding his own subjects.
His eyes fell upon a wooden cabin outside the market where a few guards stood watch. Letting out a quiet chuckle while taking in the lively street scene, he walked, hands clasped behind his back, deeper into the market.
Inside the wooden cabin, the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow.
–Mr. ZiCang, this is a precious document we’ve collected. I hear that you, Captain, have cultivated a spiritual secret technique—if anyone can read this, it’s you.–
Yang ZiCang looked at the dossier Yuan Longpenglord had solemnly handed him.
Opening it, he saw scattered, curved strokes of patterns, with markings such as –Heaven,– –Earth,– and –East, West, South, North– beside them.
Apart from that, there was no other explanation.
–What is this?–
In the room, Yuan Long tilted his head slightly, sensing the surroundings. Only after confirming no one was outside the door did he lower his voice:
–Captain Jia Moshengyang, this is a blueprint for an automatic trap trigger.–
–Automatic trap trigger?–
A glimmer of light sparked in Yang ZiCang’s eyes. –I see—this is something fine. But…–
He studied it closely, trying to memorize the strokes, but as he focused, his mind turned hazy and chaotic, as if he was about to fall asleep, his will fiercely resisting continued reading. The symptom was even more severe than reading physics or chemistry textbooks.
After Yang ZiCang flipped through a few pages, Yuan Long nodded in satisfaction.
–No wonder you’re Captain ZiHouse, with such a strong mental fortitude. If it were me seeing this, by now I’d have gone mad and thrown the book far away.–
–That terrifying?–
–And this is after the demon patterns have been broken down. Otherwise, a complete demon pattern, once one attempts to memorize it, could damage their spirit. The power from those other dimensions is truly mysterious and unfathomable.–
–But being able to build an automated shed would indeed save a lot of energy and greatly help our plan to stabilize the mountains.–
Yuan Long said, –That’s right. And with Captain Zicang as a Quad to serve as the core of this automated shed, we have a chance to significantly boost the Shin Engine output of many Quads. That’s the real reason I have the confidence to stabilize those mountains!–
–Cylinder boost?–
Yang Zicang immediately thought back to the anomaly that appeared when he first built his kerosene lamp Shin Engine—despite being made from a folded-line Moxel, it had become a three-cylinder Shin Engine.
While the chances of a triangle turning into a Quad were even lower, it remained a faint possibility, so long as one used a Quad Moxel to construct it. And he was that Quad.
The middle-aged man stepped closer. –Captain Zicang, do you know how large an area one Quad Moxel can stabilize?–
Yang Zicang’s eyes narrowed slightly. –How much?–
–At minimum, seven to eight hundred square meters. At maximum… perhaps an entire expanse of hillside—or even half a mountain. Provided it doesn’t contain deeper mineral veins. So our goal isn’t just surface stability; we need to dig deep and deploy more of them, then that stretch of land will truly hold firm—even what lies thousands of meters beneath us will exist naturally.–
Another form of terrain concentration phenomenon?
Yang Zicang took a deep breath.
So this was the true source of Yuan Longpeng’s confidence—worthy of a Penglord from Lijiang’s greenhouse district. The plan he had proposed was no random shot in the dark; though horrifying, it was grounded in reason. A surge of heat coursed through Yang Zicang’s chest—this seemingly impossible plan, at this very moment, held a glimmer of hope for completion.
All they had to do was wait… until winter was over…
He looked down at the documents in his hand, flipped through them, then raised his gaze to the middle-aged man before him.
–Aside from the magic patterns, there are no blueprints for the buildings?–
_-**All the secrets of the Automatic Shed lie in these magic patterns. Those magnificent buildings only hide them beneath their walls and floors.
–Theoretically, even carving the magic patterns onto a few bricks could let you successfully build the Automatic Shed—provided someone has enough mental strength to inscribe them.–
Yuan Long sighed, smoothed his beard, then broke into a smile:
–Also, if Captain Zicang crafts an Automatic Shed here, you won’t be able to make a second one for a month or two—nor within this vicinity. So you’ll have to sacrifice some of your own interests.–
–This is hardly a sacrifice.–
After roughly flipping through the documents, Yang Zicang slapped them in his hand, feeling his mind slowly regain clarity.
–Alright, let me give it a try.–
He didn’t say whether giving it away was an option, but as long as he could etch the magic pattern himself, why fear failing to transcribe it?
The moment he made up his mind, a voice echoed within his thoughts.
[You have generated renown in the Shibin Wastes.]
[Your current renown now exceeds 10, with a score of 42.]
Wasn’t this already made clear during last Sunday? Just as Yang Zicang was thinking this, the voice continued.
[You have left a profound impact on the Shibin Wastes, and the chief editor has taken note of your existence.]
Yang Zicang, inwardly gloating, paused in shock.
–Chief editor?–
Who was that? Never heard of them. There was no mention of such a figure in the manual either.
Knocked. Knock, knock, knock.
The sound of the door opening rang out. Yang Zicang and Yuan Longpenglord both glanced at the wooden door, and the middle-aged man cupped his hands and said:
–Then I’ll leave it to Captain Zijian. I’ll begin preparations immediately to construct the automated shed operation’s large warehouse.–
–Agreed. Let’s set it up near the meeting hall. It can double as storage in the future.–
With these two structures up, fundamentally taking shape, this was essentially the rhythm of building a Peng Zone from scratch—starting completely from zero.
The two shook hands with smiles and were about to exchange pleasantries when another thunderous knock erupted at the door, as if the person outside could barely contain their urgency:
–President Zijian, are you inside?–
–President?–
Since when had he been given that title?
Yang Zicang walked over and pulled open the door. Outside stood a vaguely familiar man, seemingly the same one who had previously accompanied the owner of the Dufan Inn. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen that guy for over a day now.
–What is it?–
The man shot a glance at Yuan Long, who was walking past Yang Zicang, and said anxiously:
–Please connect to the Syn-Link I’ve shared with you.–
As he spoke, a silver thread of light refracted toward him.
Yang Zicang did not refuse. The moment the connection was established, he saw a view from afar on his end—a stretch of flat land.
He was slightly dazed; this place seemed somewhat familiar yet strangely unfamiliar, and moreover, the ground was trembling with distorted energy fluctuations.
–What does this mean? Where is this?–
The man beneath the threshold swallowed his saliva and spoke in a terrified tone:
–It’s… the Unique Frequency Inn.–
Yang Zicang stood frozen in place.
A chill crept over him—the Unique Frequency Inn, which harbored many secrets, had silently vanished without a trace.
{Everyone inside is gone; not a single person can be reached. All contact is lost. I think Boss Zhuang and the others are probably… no longer with us.}
–No longer… here?–
Yang ZiCang looked closely.
The site where the Dufeng Inn once stood had been reduced to a flat patch of soft earth. Only some faint traces remained deep within the basement, as if the entire structure had been neatly excised and uprooted by some force.
This kind of power was too horrifying—it directly obliterated everything within the space, leaving not even a trace of debris behind. Its destruction was so swift that no information could be sent out.
–Did you see any particular person leave this place?–
In the sensory projection, two or three figures stood outside. Some carried lunch boxes, while others sat wearily on the ground next to sheathed knives and protective gear.
The man who mobilized this Moxel held a birdcage in one hand and a rabbit cage containing pale red inkstone crystals in the other, and spoke:
{No, sir, but we found this.}
In the sensory projection, that person walked to a spot beyond where the fence had originally stood. There, several extra tracks—deeply imprinted tire marks—could be seen.
Yang Zicang’s heart grew immensely heavy.
Faced with such power, he feared he had no means of response whatsoever.
Who could it be that had wiped out everyone in the entire inn, leaving them no chance to transmit even a shred of information?
This was already a terror beyond the ability of a defender. Even Zhao Anlong, destroying an inn like this, could not have managed such clean execution where not a single message could be passed on.
–Overwhelmingly superior strength.–
{Probably, Captain Zicorn. Our Discord Inn from now on…}
–Let’s lie low for now. If the other high-level members contact you, you can also consider their opinions.–
{Captain Zicorn, among all the high-level members, I think you’re the strongest and most trustworthy. How about you become our new leader?}
Yang Zicang’s lips twitched.
He had virtually no ties to Discord Inn. These people were just clinging to him to earn Chronos. Their leader had just died, and now they wanted him to take over. He didn’t even know who they were—why should he take on this pointless role?
The speaker meant no harm, but those words cast a shadow of doubt in Yang Zicang’s mind.
Morris had been unconscious for days and still hadn’t woken up. Now this Boss Zhuang, who had some connection with him, had suddenly died. The dangers of this world struck too abruptly and inexplicably.
Lost in thought, he turned to look toward the direction of the several giant mountains.
A wise man doesn’t stand near a crumbling wall. He had no idea what the danger was, where it came from, or how it manifested. To stay here so openly and brazenly was an extremely reckless move.
His plan to use those mountains to boost his reputation was going up in flames. He had to evacuate as soon as possible.
While lost in thought, a figure dashed across the spacious walkway formed by several wooden cabins.
–Captain Zicang.–
Zhou Liren rushed to a halt in front of Yang Zicang, panic written all over his face. He glanced at the messenger beside him, who tactfully took leave and moved to a distance for the time being.
–What’s with all the rush?–
–It’s Shadowless.– Zhou Liren said anxiously to Yang Zicang.
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