Chapter Forty-Three: Logistics Supply Center

Southport New City, 304 Sentinel Base, Underground Safehouse.

Ji Cheng exited the Gaia Network, took out the untreated lattice and the standard tool module, and began his work.

The modification and tuning of mechanical weapons could take countless forms, each one different from the last. It required not only systematic learning but also innate aptitude and creativity. Most people found it a headache, reluctant to learn themselves, preferring to rely on artisan-class intelligent lifeforms for template-based tuning. While this was simple, it often reduced the compatibility between the mechanical weapon and its user, and sometimes even resulted in damage to high-precision weapons.

Some, however, devoted themselves to the study of mechanics, becoming so-called machinists.

Before crossing over, Ji Cheng had been an ordinary office worker with little money and not much free time. The reason he could keep up with top-tier players was that his in-game character was a highly skilled machinist. After crossing over, without the game system’s assistance, he was fortunate that the body’s previous owner was also adept at mechanical modification. Although not even considered a ranked machinist by cosmic standards, he had no trouble with basic lattice-setting.

He flung open the box containing the standard tool module, revealing an array of densely packed tools and instruments. Ji Cheng slotted the energy crystal Hu Xian had given him into the groove; a faint cracking sound arose, barely audible yet filling the entire bedroom. Despite being used several times already, the crystal’s exterior remained unchanged.

A single small energy crystal could power a full passenger aircraft for a medium-range flight.

At this moment, Ji Cheng was holding a glass slide with tweezers, upon which lay a tangled mass of metallic filaments.

He placed the entire slide under the microscope, then took out a brand-new platinum-tungsten atomic probe and installed it.

“This scanning tunneling microscope can only observe the atomic surface layer. Truly outdated.”

He switched on the microscope and applied voltage to the platinum-tungsten probe.

At this stage, with air serving as an insulating wall, electrons would not leap across, meaning no current would be generated.

Ji Cheng guided the microscope so that the probe slowly approached the metal filaments.

A faint hiss.

A minuscule current suddenly flickered between the probe and the filaments.

This meant the distance was now at its absolute minimum, the air insulation directly pierced by electrons.

“Alright, with this current, according to the tunneling effect, the distance is 0.074 nanometers. Now, to analyze the local structure.” Ji Cheng murmured, pressing a few buttons. A dazzling light burst within the instrument.

A humming sound filled the air, and a microscopic image appeared, projected onto the wall.

Ji Cheng had already calculated the processing parameters based on the design data uploaded by Ji Ruyue. His fingers danced rapidly across the controls, and the platinum-tungsten probe began to pluck and bend the metal filaments at precise points.

“At node forty-two, rotate three degrees, twenty-five minutes.”

…

“At node one thousand and eight, make a right-angle bend.”

…

The platinum-tungsten probe flickered and darted nimbly. In less than ten minutes, with a strange, sharp ring, the probe abruptly stopped. The scanning tunneling microscope slowly opened, and the glass slide bearing the processed lattice rose up.

The lattice was no longer chaotic; instead, it was intertwined in a mysterious, harmonious pattern, forming a shape reminiscent of a reversed swastika, about two or three centimeters across. On closer inspection, wisps of twisted air seemed to form continuously over it, and a barely perceptible plucking sound echoed, eerie in the extreme.

The once-pliable lattice was now impossibly rigid after the process.

“It’s done.”

Sensing the hardness of the filaments, a look of delight appeared on Ji Cheng’s face. This was the sign of a successful lattice-setting. Once shaped into a specific lattice form, a unique force field would render the filaments utterly rigid, unbendable by any means unless destroyed.

He picked up the glass slide, noting that along its edge, gray cracks crisscrossed in a web—clear evidence that the internal structure of the slide had been devastated.

Ji Cheng tossed the glass slide aside, took the lattice in his hand, and murmured without blinking, “Tsk. According to the basic rules, the quality of a finished lattice depends not only on the material but also on the lattice pattern, and its final effect is also tied to the user’s own strength. But for my ‘Regret,’ as long as the lattice is barely completed, its power remains the same.”

He did not hesitate. Using the standard tool module, he printed a set of surgical instruments and swiftly implanted ‘Regret’ into the center of his left palm, connecting it to numerous nerve endings.

“Let’s test the effect.”

Ji Cheng raised his left hand, tapping the air lightly with his fingertip.

A razor-sharp, invisible force shot out, swift as lightning.

The hardwood cabinet beside the bed split silently in two, the upper half sliding off and hitting the ground.

Thud.

He turned and traced another line in the air. An invisible blade seemed to appear, slicing with a few quick swishes, reducing the cabinet to a shower of fragments.

For several hours after, Ji Cheng continued to familiarize himself with the use of ‘Regret,’ practicing until he could cut the air at will before stopping.

After some thought, he reopened the Ability User Marketplace and ordered ten gene prototypes in one go.

Watching the balance in his account drop as though an entire limb had been hacked off, Ji Cheng let out a heavy sigh, shut down his system, and went to sleep.

Early the next morning, a reinforced military jeep bearing the Southport New City insignia rolled up in a cloud of dust to the gate of the 304 Sentinel Base. Ji Cheng, accompanied by Chen Qian, had their identities verified and boarded the vehicle.

“Boss, I heard all new ability users choose to join some council member’s faction. Which council member are you joining?” Chen Qian asked curiously, dressed in her usual smart suit and skirt.

“I haven’t chosen yet. The city-state gives a six-month adaptation period—you just need to decide before it ends. But if nothing unexpected happens, I’ll probably join Councilor Zhou’s team.”

Ji Cheng replied with a smile, watching the route as the vehicle drove. They were circling from the west toward the northern defense line of Southport New City. The prospecting team that Ji Cheng would lead had long since assembled there, waiting for the two of them to arrive.

Hearing Chen Qian’s “oh,” Ji Cheng asked directly, “By the way, how many sentinel bases are managed directly by the City Defense Command?”

Chen Qian seemed to understand what Ji Cheng truly wanted to know and smiled softly. “Sentinel bases are rare public assets of Southport New City. Even ability users, for all their high status, can only possess a scarce few—reserved for the most powerful.”

“I see.” Ji Cheng understood at last; it seemed his little lair really was a coveted prize.

In just an hour, their military jeep stopped in front of a towering fortress.

This was the logistics supply center, the departure point for all teams heading north of the city to mine energy crystals. The entire structure was built with brutal solidity—one glance revealed over a hundred ground-based turrets, and outside, more than a thousand armed soldiers patrolled back and forth. An air of grim severity hung over the place, a sharp contrast to the atmosphere within the main city.

Chen Qian and Ji Cheng got out in turn. The row of soldiers on guard at the gate noticed the vehicle’s insignia. Even if they hadn’t seen Ji Cheng before, they immediately understood his identity.

“Honored ability user, please proceed inside.” The soldiers snapped to attention and saluted with utmost respect.

The two walked directly into the logistics center.

“Boss, I’ll check in at the front desk and notify your team to come over.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

No sooner had Chen Qian walked a few steps away and Ji Cheng was about to find somewhere to sit, than a coquettish gasp came from nearby.

“Ji Cheng?”

The voice sounded familiar. Ji Cheng turned to see a boldly dressed, stunningly graceful woman reclining sideways on a sofa, her red lips parted wide enough to fit an egg.

Su Yi? Ji Cheng blinked.

Besides her, two men and three women were seated nearby, all turning to look.

“What are you doing here?” Su Yi’s shock was tinged with embarrassment, as if she’d suddenly remembered something. “Weren’t you… weren’t you in prison?”

She had promised to get Ji Cheng out, but here he was, out on his own and running into her, which was rather awkward for her.

“In prison?” echoed a woman behind Su Yi, her hair flaming red and face streaked with azure stripes.

She scrutinized Ji Cheng, confirming that he bore none of the telltale mutations from gene prototype injections, her expression revealing a hint of disdain.

At this point, Ji Cheng’s vertical pupils had reverted to normal. As an ability user, his body could now fully withstand the side effects of the gene prototype.

“Ah, you…” Su Yi clearly noticed the change in his eyes. She was puzzled at first, then realization dawned, her mind thrown into utter turmoil.