As Yang Zicang walked, he absorbed the information regarding the –Grav-Arc space-.
[Grav-Arc, position perception.]
With a mere thought, Lance’s position subtly surfaced in his mind.
This ability was not limited to storage and retrieval; its foremost function was that no matter where the weapon lay, he could remotely draw it into the prepared space for safekeeping.
For this alone, countless people would envy him—it meant this spear could never truly be seized unless he himself fell.
Moreover, by focusing on the concept, this arcane space could manifest within a certain range, making the spear emerge into sight.
However, for now, aside from the nine years of lifespan I’ve already invested, I have no extra Chronos left to increase its summoning range. The next investment would require ninety-nine years.
But being able to summon the silver spear within a nine-meter range should produce some unexpected effects at certain moments.
In any case, I truly came out ahead this time.
–Up ahead is a resting spot, which we call the foyer.–
–We?–
–I’m back! I’ve brought back some important figures! Hahaha!–
With Robin Lo’s shouts, several beams of flashlight light cut through the dark space ahead.
Around a dozen people, looking like old and weak or ill and crippled, scrambled forward in disarray.
–Robin Lo, who is he?–
–Is this the person you found to help us get across?–
–Hello, are you the one who makes paragliders?–
–No, I’m not.–
With my answer, the group’s attitude toward me shifted instantly. Even the looks they cast at Robin Lo were now laced with distrust.
Yang Zicang took a step closer to Robin Lo, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, and murmured in a low voice, –So this is your so-called solitary life?–
–They’re just staying temporarily.–
Robin Lo cleared his throat, gesturing for everyone to stop their commotion.
Over the jumble of their disjointed chatter, Yang Zicang pieced together the situation—these people needed to get from one place to another.
So this was the reason I was chosen—because I can speed up and alter trajectories?
–Ah, it’s that guy. Hey, you’re not dead yet?–
Just as the group shifted from greetings to murmuring among themselves, a young man emerged from behind the crowd.
–Yu’an, who is he?–
Among the old, weak, and sick, a few still didn’t even know who they were, even after being reminded.
Yang Zicang couldn’t help but cast a curious glance at these elderly people.
Had they not yet conceived Moxel or received the pervasive financing images spreading everywhere?
–Ha! The regional disaster that just happened—didn’t you all discuss who was to blame?! That’s right, it’s him!–
The man opposite Robin Lo pointed directly at Yang Zicang.
–Warren Wang!– Robin Lo’s cold gaze fixed on him.
Instantly, the crowd erupted in an uproar.
–Roaring at me? Hell, what do you mean by bringing a guy like him here? He almost died in a Class B nest just a moment ago,– Warren Wang yelled.
More people came from behind; nearly twenty individuals had gathered here.
This man named Warren Wang seemed deliberately intent on provoking hostility. Yang Zicang pondered for a moment—the bastard was twisting the narrative.
On one hand, he framed me as the one who triggered the disaster; on the other, he mentioned I nearly died in a Class B nest, crafting a deliberate impression of being both incompetent and repulsive.
I shouldn’t have any direct conflict of interest with him.
Yang Zicang glanced at Robin Lo.
So, his true target was actually Robin Lo?
–Alright, enough. I said it before—this man is my guest,– Robin Lo cut them off.
–Old Bin, we hired you at a premium to handle this affair. What’s the deal with bringing him?– someone from the crowd said.
–Actually, dragging the timeline out a few days might not be a bad thing, you know.–
–Yeah, the guy who can trigger a Moxel confrontation event should be quite capable.–
Two elderly men amidst the opposing crowd spoke in hoarse, raspy voices.
Warren Wang turned and shot them a glare: –Does that have anything to do with where we’re headed?–
He questioned the two old men coldly, and they were so intimidated by Warren Wang’s aura that they dared not make another sound.
–Mr. Wang, let’s first hear what Brother Robin Lo has to say before discussing whether to continue with this contract.–
From a corner, a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boy carrying a black sword on his back sat on a crate and spoke.
Seeing that the youth had spoken, Warren Wang finally stopped pressing further, let out a cold snort, and walked back.
Contract, employment…
A thought stirred in Yang Zicang’s mind—this was a job taken on by Robin Lo.
Robin Lo led the young man toward a wooden door ahead, beyond which lay a short path.
After closing the door, Yang Zicang smiled and said:
–Are you handling this group of patrons all by yourself?–
–Hoho, pretty sharp, young lad. Don’t worry. There was an unexpected situation today; my other partner is still out gathering intelligence and won’t be back for the next couple of days.–
Meaning that two of them were dealing with it.
The guide, Robin Lo, showed no concern about Yang Zicang walking behind him.
Such a carefree and at-ease demeanor made Yang Zicang feel as if he were back in the civilized society of Earth.
He hadn’t realized that, at some point, even this kind of atmosphere had become a luxury.
Beyond the short path, which was less than seven meters long, lay a slightly smaller hall.
The hall was furnished with wooden crates of various sizes, serving as tables and stools.
Several wooden rods bound with magic stones were inserted into the wall, emitting a faint glow.
–So, no danger, right?–
Patting the wooden crate, the somewhat stout figure casually sat down, lifted a wooden lid, and took out a few packets of bread, bottles of water, and other items from inside.
–This Invest scene was absolutely astonishing—monsters acting as financiers. And with that kind of magical beast, it’s a miracle you survived.–
Yang Zicang had already learned what happened from Liang Xi, and he laughed:
–So you’ve been keeping an eye on me since that moment.–
–No, no, it’s not me—it was my companion. He recommended you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t let a stranger get close to me.–
Robin Lo lied smoothly. Then he popped open a can of beer.
–He spent the whole night near Zuoming Street last night.–
With that, Robin Lo asked, –Your acceleration ability can affect more than one person, right?–
–Of course.–
–Good.– Robin Lo smiled and slid over a folded piece of letter paper.
Yang Zicang glanced at him and then opened the paper.
— Name: Yang Zicang, Height: around 180 cm, Athletic build, Age: approx. 18–21.
— Personality: Cautious, rational, prone to impulsiveness and irritability (likely due to Moxel influence). Possesses a certain degree of empathy and a slightly above-average sense of justice.
——Moxel Ability: Long-range Chronos Strikes. Note: Less than 30 meters. Acceleration, trajectory change, which can simultaneously be applied to more than two people, the exact number unknown. Suspected wind-field ability (pending). Three or more Moxel abilities, a derivative of a standard QuadMoxel.
——It is speculated that he has possessed Chronos for over a thousand years since the first day, likely eligible for conscious training. Note Update: An additional ability emerged today, confirmed to be a long-range leap skill obtained from the conscious space; number of uses unknown.
——On the second day, the target changed into ordinary shoes and outerwear, without wearing earrings, nor carrying a watch, phone, or other items. He may already be aware of certain basic information, thus inferred to have received a warning.
——Area of activity ranges…
Yang Zicang gasped sharply and muttered, –What does this mean? Tailing me?–
–You’ve been watched all day, but not just by my people.–
First time encountering something like this—being angry was no act.
This guy before him, who knew how many Chronos he had, and outside there were so many others lurking.
Yang Zicang sensed his gravitational space ability; as long as he wished, Lance could show up at any moment.
Though not much use, it at least set his mind a little at ease.
Robin Lo placed half a can of beer on the wooden crate box, smiling at a visibly annoyed Yang Zicang, and said:
–Don’t get worked up. I’ve got thousands of files like this here, but I won’t show them to you, hehe.–
–That’s only if I still owe you thirteen hundred years of Chronos.–
Yang Zicang squeezed the beer can in his hand until it screeched, beer spilling out.
–In this world, collecting intel is the most logical thing to do, isn’t it?–
–Not on me.– Yang Zicang retorted stubbornly.
Honestly, he knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same.
–Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful next time. Careful not to let you catch me.–
Yang Zicang wanted nothing more than to punch him.
Watching the barbecue-flavored chips offered to him, Yang Zicang angrily crushed the bag, tossed a piece into his mouth, and deliberately chewed it viciously.
The tension between them eased slightly.
Beggars can’t be choosers, Yang Zicang thought to himself. If he had a few thousand years of Chronos, he’d be the one flipping the table now.
The past two days had left him emotionally frazzled, and holding back like this was already the best he could manage.
–So, no issues with these materials?– Robin Lo looked at Yang Zicang across the wooden crate.
–Mostly fine.–
Robin Lo smacked his lips, waited about two seconds, and then let out a sly chuckle. –Your streamlined aura ability—is it a Moxel ability?–
–No.– Yang Zicang answered reflexively.
The word was still caught in his throat before he realized it, yet he still forced it out.
–You’re using your ability again!– This time, Yang Zicang was truly enraged.
But the other party was emboldened, acting without fear.
Frustration—Yang Zicang felt an injury deeper than the one beneath the skin of his chest; now, it was he who was in danger.
But in this world, delusions of a peaceful life free from risk were already impossible.
Serves you right for getting your head split open, Yang Zicang thought malevolently.
–Seems their evaluation of you is a bit off, huh. Heh, that gale ability of yours—you almost fooled even me.–
Robin Lo smiled warmly, observing Yang Zicang’s expression as it shifted through several changes.
–Back then, you weren’t actually using your wind-field ability—so what was it, an extra skill or an item?–
Two seconds later, Robin Lo furrowed his brow, as if a new suspicion had dawned on him.
–What are you doing—investigating my Moxel abilities?–
Yang Zicang suppressed his urge to respond, fixing his gaze on the middle-aged man’s eyes.
Robin Lo paused for a moment, then chuckled softly.
–Whoa, guess I was a bit too obvious. To be honest, ever since I got this Moxel, I’ve regressed quite a bit over the last three years. I rely on it too much—most people spill the beans when I ask, so I’ve stopped using all those roundabout investigative tricks.–
–Ah, I imagine most people are the same—once they have Moxel, they just turn to it instead of honing their own skills. That’s right, my Moxel came from the interrogation room. You should know what that means by now.–
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