Chapter 56: Where the Blade Points, No Regrets in This Life

Outside, there seemed to be the sound of something slicing through the air.

The professional Night Watchers were coming.

The "Demon Eye" had finally noticed the energy fluctuations here and sent out a warning.

In the instant before making his next move, Ren Zhong's mind raced through countless thoughts.

Now, at last, he was "calm" again.

Supported by an extraordinary brain response index of 529, even the briefest flickers of thought in his mind were complex and varied.

He could not yet fully master this accelerated pace of thinking, and his emotions scattered far and wide.

First, a vague fear rose in his heart.

But this fear did not stem from the soon-to-arrive Night Watchers; it came from within himself.

He remembered with stark clarity every punch he had landed on Bei Lihui.

With every blow, blood flew, flesh splattered.

In the 21st century, such scenes would belong in an R18-rated horror film drenched in gore and violence.

Yet Ren Zhong, the perpetrator, felt not the slightest discomfort.

It was unreasonable.

This was the root of his fear.

It seemed as if he had already become a full part of this era, his humanity eroded, no longer quite human.

Then, a second layer of fear emerged.

Now, he feared the infectious power of this world itself.

He had no idea what the future would bring.

He even worried whether, if he continued down this path, he could hold fast to his own nature in this world.

After all, in the 21st century, he had been an unremarkable scholar, not a hardened soldier ready to face death.

He had never been trained to withstand such psychological ordeals, so his concerns were only natural.

Yet perhaps it was the effect of the psychic stimulant, or perhaps it was the long-repressed anger finally finding release, or even the jarring sense of injustice he had witnessed stirring something in his subconscious—a thought, wild and unbelievable, flashed through his mind like lightning.

Vague notions began to coalesce.

Since I have already sworn to change this world,

Then this is my very first step.

That I could kill a Level Four professional like Bei Lihui in my sleep proves this world is not invulnerable to me.

But I must both adapt to the brutal law of the jungle here, and yet never lose my humanity.

The way to hold on to myself is to set a long-term ideal, one worthy of a lifetime of struggle.

At every moment, I must remember who I am, what my mission is, and what I must do.

Only thus can I avoid being lost in the shallow slaughter.

My blade must be raised for a noble cause.

Only then can I keep my mind clear, even amid the blood.

So from now on, beneath my outward disguise, I must always remember: I am a Chinese from the 21st century!

But I must also integrate with this era—I cannot be only a person of the 21st century.

I must become the heir walking the borderlands between different ages of human civilization!

For I know with absolute clarity: ordinary people should not be enslaved like this!

The forsaken should not be so numb.

This is not what it means to be human!

I must, like those before me, help those who toil like beasts to regain their dignity as people!

I will carry on the torch of my forebears, sowing the seeds of renewal upon this land devoured by evil tides.

One day, I will see this flourishing age come to pass, as I have dreamed!

Slaughter is not the purpose, only the means. For every revolution, blood must flow—one’s own, and that of others.

Ren Zhong smiled.

He had truly ignited the fire in his heart.

He no longer feared death, nor would he ever again be soft-hearted.

Because now, his blade had found its direction.

...

Before the Night Watchers arrived, Ren Zhong bent down, picked up the Level Four professional’s watch from the ground, and tucked it into his coat.

The watch was still perfectly intact.

He had deliberately avoided damaging it earlier.

Even in his rage, he had remembered his original plan.

The Level Four watch that belonged to Bei Lihui had been one of his targets from the start.

When he picked up the watch, he glanced again at Bei Lihui’s big gun lying inside the ruined sleep pod.

Stamped into the barrel was the model number: “Scorpio-Lion 191.”

Ren Zhong guessed this must be the model of the weapon that had killed him once before, and he committed it to memory.

“What happened here? Who are you?”

Voices suddenly called from outside the broken window, and a mechanical scanning arm snaked into the room.

Ren Zhong adjusted the visor on his helmet, walked to the door, opened it, and said with regret, “Sigh, just now a Level Three Ruin Beast smashed through the window and barged in here.”

Three men standing outside eyed his unfamiliar armor with suspicion.

Ren Zhong stepped aside, letting them enter.

One pointed at the wrecked room. “So what’s the situation now?”

Ren Zhong shrugged. “I was a step too late. The man in the sleep pod is dead. As for the Ruin Beast—it ran off before you arrived.”

“It ran?”

“Yes. The beast was small, but incredibly fast. It was terrifying—look, all that’s left of the victim is this hand.”

The three looked down and saw a severed hand on the floor.

The first man identified the dead man. “This is Lin Wang’s manor. The dead guy is Bei Lihui, one of Lin Wang’s team.”

Ren Zhong nodded. “I think so. What a shame.”

“Luckily, the other rooms are all fine.”

Ren Zhong: “Yes, we’re fortunate.”

At that moment, a violent explosion thundered in the distance.

The three men seemed to receive an urgent alert and hurried out the door.

One paused before leaving and asked Ren Zhong, “Since a Level Three Ruin Beast is here, are you coming with us?”

Ren Zhong shook his head. “I’m out of ammo, and you can see for yourselves, I’m only wearing a modified basic Level One suit. I’m not qualified to join a high-level fight like that.”

“Fair enough. All right.”

The three departed quickly, not even bothering to check the surveillance footage.

Ren Zhong grinned.

He’d bluffed his way through.

How simple.

He didn’t attempt to check the other rooms belonging to Lin Wang’s squad.

He truly was out of ammunition.

Even if someone else’s alloy sleep pod were set before him, he couldn’t do a thing; he might even get blown away by automated weapons inside.

Ren Zhong rested only briefly, then once again activated his powered suit and shot out like a bolt.

The third-generation Iron Curtain security system, already depleted by his earlier use, was reactivated and ran a friend-or-foe scan, but since Ren Zhong was familiar with the system and focused solely on escaping, nothing went wrong.

Under the night sky, Ren Zhong dragged his exhausted body back to his own prefab hut.

By now, his exoskeleton suit had completely fallen apart, bits and pieces scattered along the way.

Some of it could be salvaged, but he couldn’t be bothered.

Ren Zhong opened the door, entered, and collapsed on his bed.

It was 2:19 a.m., but he felt no trace of sleepiness.

As Sun Miao had warned, a tenfold dose of stimulant would guarantee an extremely restless night.

He first removed his own watch, then took out Bei Lihui’s Level Four watch and put it on.

Thirty seconds later, Ren Zhong “saw” the giant display.

Just as he had suspected.

Bei Lihui’s watch had not been locked.

It must have been on Lin Wang’s orders.

A Level Four watch, worth five thousand points, was a significant asset in its own right.

Lin Wang used Zheng Tian’s team as tools; naturally, he would not spare his own men.

If a team member died, the watch could still serve a purpose.

On the background of the Deep Information Group’s capital, Ren Zhong saw two options.

One was Bei Lihui’s account, the other, a guest account.

He clicked on Bei Lihui’s account, and was prompted for a password.

He returned to the main screen.

He clicked on the guest account.

The experience was identical to when he had used a rented watch.

Except now, in the Internet section, there was a new app icon—the virtual reality training program Ren Zhong had dreamed of.

He clicked without hesitation.

A prompt appeared: he had to initiate hypnosis first.

He returned to the main menu and activated hypnosis.

His physical body outside sank into deep sleep, but within the dream space, his mind remained feverishly alert—a state both intense and bizarre.

Back in the Internet interface, he clicked on virtual reality training again, and this time it worked.

Several graded options appeared.

The training was priced by level, exactly matching the monthly professional assessment fees.

Level One: eight points per eight-hour session.

Level Two: forty points per eight-hour session.

...

At that moment, Ren Zhong’s account had a balance of exactly 43.36 points.

He activated Level Two training.

Next came intensity selection—Ren Zhong went straight for the highest: Hell Mode.

“Personal parameters loading…”

“Current profession identified: Mech Warrior.”

“Estimated brain-machine synchronization: 28%. Meets Level Two training standard.”

“Brain response index: 528.89. Meets Level Two training standard.”

“Bioelectric capacity: 46.9 kilowatts.”

“Overall physical index: 47.1.”

“Calculation complete: you have two parameters below the Level Two standard. Forcing training will place extreme strain on your body and may be life-threatening. Would you like to switch—at no charge—to more suitable Level One training?”

Ren Zhong didn’t hesitate: no switch.

In the next instant, his awareness plunged into darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he stood upon a vast, empty training ground.

He raised his hands, flexed his fists—the sensation was exactly the same as in his real body.

“Hell Mode high-intensity combat will begin in ten minutes. Please select your equipment.”

An electronic voice echoed in his mind, and a huge, translucent list materialized above the field—filled with an array of Level Two Mech Warrior gear.

Some of it he had seen before in the Starfire Town armory.

But the rest—specialized enhancements—were completely new to him.

When Ren Zhong focused on any piece of equipment and silently thought “equip,” it would materialize before him.

After nine minutes, he tentatively completed his first custom Level Two loadout.

“Equip!”

At his command, dozens of components snapped together on his body like Lego bricks, assembling lightning fast.

“Combat commencing. Eliminate three Level Two Ruin Beast Shadow Rats within three minutes! Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

The countdown began.

Three familiar shadowy figures quickly coalesced ahead.

Ren Zhong’s gaze sharpened, locking onto them.

To be able to fight to his heart’s content on the edge of death, to keep building his combat experience—what more could he want in this life?

From tonight, the horn of his true transformation sounded.