Chapter 235
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Chapter 235: Title
Ye Linlang tilted her head toward the system screen displaying the final outcomes of the "Heavenly Inquiry" and "Outlets" worlds. Only she knew these virtual realms now fell under Blue Star’s Heavenly Law and would soon undergo transformation.
—A transformation from virtual to real—this was her first attempt at such a feat.
But before the upgrade, one final task remained.
Heavenly Inquiry World
An Xiao shakily rose to her feet. "That was terrifying! Even glimpsing the Heavenly Law’s presence…"
"Tell me about it," the girl beside her breathed, clutching her chest while staring at the figures atop the ceremonial platform. "How’s the Human Emperor standing unbowed?"
While kneeling wasn’t mandatory before the Heavenly Law, its overwhelming pressure forced those with weaker cultivation to their knees before conscious thought intervened.
【Lower World—Heavenly Inquiry will reattach in 00:01:00. Non-native entities to be forcibly expelled.】
【Countdown initiated…】
On the platform, Ye Er flinched mid-ritual beside the new Human Emperor. "Our departure nears. Others may descend later… but fear not—none will dare overstep this time."
A squirrel perched on her shoulder as a silver dragon spiraled around her wrist.
The final chime resonated. Physical travelers blinked from existence while possessed vessels dissolved into mist.
Outlets World
Parallel events unfolded. Time froze simultaneously across both realms.
Beyond the Worlds
From a World Tree branch, an observer would see countless shimmering fruits—each an embryonic universe. None yet possessed true substance.
Ye Linlang materialized in the void. Her fingers danced, summoning accumulated divine power crystals that dissolved into radiant energy streams. This luminous force poured into two nebulous fruits, their forms gradually coalescing.
Ideally, world-force irrigation would’ve conserved Fantasy Points. But with resources scarce, she resorted to this method—a temporary measure until prosperity returned.
The system’s pre-calculated costs still stung. Outlets (second-tier world) consumed 60 million Fantasy Points. Heavenly Inquiry demanded 75 million. Though not ruinous, the expenditure bit deep.
【-103,500,000 Fantasy Points. Remaining balance: 2,736,000,000.】
Her eye twitched. This equaled 1,035 standard divine power units—more than nurturing World Tree saplings! Only their low-tier status and capped power levels made this feasible. Neighboring tier three Hanjiang, a spiritually inclined cultivation realm, would’ve cost exponentially more.
【World Tree maturation phase requires additional 2,500,000,000 Fantasy Points. Pre-deducted. Completion in 1 year post-depletion.】
Ye Linlang glared at the sapling, phantom pains lancing through her chest. Though transcended, mortal thriftiness clung like old armor. Each mental calculation of squandered points tightened her breath.
Deep inhalations steadied her. Necessary expenses, she repeated. The World Tree anchored Blue Star’s dominance—keystone for cosmic unity and source power absorption.
“System, how much source power has been accumulated so far, and what’s the current absorption rate?”
Ye Linlang inquired, her gaze lingering on the two grayish-white fruits. A closer look revealed the Heavenly Inquiry World’s fruit glowing slightly brighter, while its counterpart appeared duller.
She glanced at her wristwatch—five minutes remained before temporal flow would resume within the worlds.
Yet…
【The World Tree currently holds 2.36 units of source power. Blue Star generates 0.006 units per rotation. Upon reaching first-stage maturation, this will increase to 0.15 units per cycle.】
That sounded pitifully meager.
Ye Linlang suppressed a sigh. Source power was sacrosanct—though Fantasy Points could theoretically be converted, the degraded purity and conversion losses made it unacceptable.
Furthermore, future demands would only escalate.
Every unit must be hoarded, not squandered.
【Lower worlds Heavenly Inquiry and Outlets require ascension. Consume 0.5 units for world source imprint anchoring?】
“Proceed.”
The system remained infuriatingly literal.
The display flickered as their reserves dwindled by one full unit to 1.36. Ye Linlang turned from the World Tree’s shimmering void. Out of sight, out of mind—how trivial the initial seed-feeding costs seemed compared to this endless resource sink. Forming these proto-worlds might bankrupt her.
【World source imprint anchored. Concealing per Your Excellency, the Major Deity’s directive…】
Time shuddered back into motion across both worlds. None would detect the hiatus until celestial visitors noticed temporal discrepancies.
Within her exclusive office, Ye Linlang issued commands. “Maintain surveillance on Hanjiang. No interventions until virtual-real transition becomes feasible.”
At current progression rates, the third-tier world wouldn’t solidify for three mortal years.
【By your will.】
【Your Excellency, activation schedule for Tier One Pinnacle worlds Galactic Empire and Rise of the Sorcerers?】
“Let them remain dormant. Their players need respite.”
——————
Blue Star’s reunion proved imperfect. Many awakened to the Grim Reaper’s scythe—souls harvested mid-breath by the God of Death’s agents.
Ye Er materialized in her untouched office. Finding her companions absent, she strode out calmly.
“Chief Ye!” Her secretary nearly toppled the desk rising. “You’ve returned!”
“Report.” Ye Er’s smile held steel. “Any incidents during my absence?”
“Multiple unresolved issues require your attention.” The secretary gestured helplessly at document stacks. “Urgent matters accumulated—”
Ye Er raised a hand, silencing the explanation. “Compile everything. We begin immediately.”
These paper documents were likely the least of her concerns; the Special Bureau’s intranet surely held far more critical information awaiting her attention. Ye Er couldn’t help but sigh at the endless bureaucratic tasks awaiting her after each interdimensional return.
How long would this reprieve last? Her True Form probably wouldn’t initiate another crossing over immediately.
Few travelers resembled Ye Er. Most physical travelers enjoyed flexible roles where participation remained optional, while cultivation-focused individuals found little difference between worlds.
Eastern Sea City.
A lavish villa.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises now?” Ao Ming hoisted his squirming brother by the collar until the youth’s feet dangled midair. “Did my previous warnings mean nothing? You actually dared venture into Another World.”
“But it wasn’t truly another realm!” Ao Lan protested weakly, legs kicking empty space. “The Heavenly Path confirmed—”
“Silence.”
The younger dragon immediately clamped his mouth shut, recognizing the dangerous edge in his Second Brother’s voice. One more word might earn him more than a scolding.
“Have you learned your lesson?” Ao Ming unceremoniously dumped his sibling onto the plush sofa.
The resilient Ao Lan tumbled before settling into a picture of contrition. “I’ve truly understood my mistake,” he vowed, meeting his brother’s stormy gaze.
Ao Ming’s stern expression thawed. Brushing a strand of hair from the boy’s face, his voice softened. “Were you injured?”
“None could harm me!” Silver scales shimmered as a proud draconic tail materialized, curling affectionately around the elder’s wrist. “Second Brother, that realm made Blue Star seem dull! The floating cities! The crystal forests!”
“Can we return after summer break? Three months wasn’t nearly enough!”
A knuckle rapped his forehead. “Three months? Your school’s summer vacation starts next week. You’ll complete every missed assignment,” Ao Ming declared. “And expect additional tutoring.”
“Sneaking into Battlegrounds? Clearly you require heavier academic burdens.”
“Nooo! I’ll behave!”
Meanwhile, in Yang Xingyu’s residence.
“There’s my precious acorn!” The man nuzzled the squirrel cradled in his palms. “Three months without you—transform back this instant! Let me check for injuries!”
“Honestly, dragging infants across dimensions,” he muttered, stroking the creature’s russet fur.
Pop! The rodent became a grinning boy who clung to his father’s neck. “Sorry for worrying you!”
“Disgustingly sweet,” drawled Hu Mei from her armchair, sunflower seeds cracking between manicured fingers. “Since when did you turn into such a mother hen, Yang Xingyu?”
…
Kingdom of England, Special Operations Department.
“Merlinka! Thank providence!” Minister Myers surged from his desk, relief smoothing his worried creases. “Three months vanished—we feared the worst.”
The silver-haired operative inclined her head. “I bring urgent news.”
“Regarding the twin realms?” Myers stumbled over the unfamiliar terms. “Heavenly Inquiry or… Outlets?”
“Which one claimed you?”
"Outlets, a medieval magic world where I uncovered some intriguing phenomena," Merlinka remarked. "This should capture your interest."
"After briefing you, I must visit the academy."
In America.
"Intelligence from Another World? Perfect timing – we’re desperately lacking such intel!"
"Cyril, your accomplishments here merit our finest elixirs and technological augmentation to enhance your capabilities," declared the general.
The sharp-featured youth with sapphire eyes snapped a salute. "Understood, General."
These events merely hinted at global upheavals – returnees from Another World had unleashed seismic shifts across civilizations.
As public enthusiasm surged for cross-dimensional tourism to experience medieval Europe and Zhongxia’s classical elegance, authorities revealed the bitter truth: access required qualifications none possessed.
Within the freshly minted Another World diplomatic division of Zhongxia’s Special Bureau, staff stared bewildered at their virtual interfaces. Dozens of documents materialized before them:
*Lower World Guidelines, Source World Inhabitants Advisory, Heavenly Inquiry World Cultural Compendium, Time Flow Proportions Manual, Entry Protocol Regulations*… nearly thirty titles in total.
The newly appointed director – a formidable woman bearing ‘Lin Zifeng’ on her brass nameplate – swept her gaze across junior staffers. "Ten minutes. Synthesize key findings."
"Affirmative."
Lin Zifeng retreated from the workstations, recalling her abrupt transfer from foreign affairs. Her cultivation prowess and administrative skills had destined her for this fledgling department, currently staffed by recent graduates and non-combat personnel due to Bureau-wide shortages.
"Director – preliminary analysis complete."
"Twenty-six documents total. Twenty-three contain mandatory pre-crossing materials. Remaining three focus on Heavenly Inquiry World specifics."
"Post-download protocols require passing a randomized 100-question exam in virtual world for qualification."
Lin Zifeng’s nod carried military precision. "Print physical copies. We lead this information race."
"Full department – expedited review. Move."
"Status update on Nameless World?" Her question referenced the enigmatic third dimension where her cousin had vanished.
"No observable changes, Director."
Her brow furrowed. While secondary to their mission, the Nameless World case haunted her. Initial disappearances had signaled interdimensional travel, but the second wave coinciding with Nameless World’s emergence defied logic – merely fifty missing across Zhongxia, mostly seventh-rank cultivators and thirty ordinary civilians.
Most perplexing was Blue Star’s side of the cosmic exchange – despite nationwide surveillance grids, Zhongxia’s cameras detected zero interdimensional visitors. This critical anomaly remained classified, lest it spark pandemonium.
—Mysterious Awakening Dimension (Proximity: Blue Star Universe)—
In shadowed crevices of a neon metropolis, within decaying tenements that defied urban glamour,
An abandoned bathroom’s fractured pipe maintained its arrhythmic percussion – drip… drip… drip.
In the dust-laden living room,
Wen Renyi shifted the cabinet to barricade the door. Leaning against the furniture after completing these movements, she glared daggers at the figure lounging on the nearby sofa.
"Where’s your gentlemanly courtesy? Making a delicate woman handle heavy labor at such critical moments?" Her sharp gaze pinned the teenage boy who casually blew a gum bubble.
Her medium-length hair swung in a stern ponytail, the pristine black suit now marred by scrapes and grime. Unknown dark stains clung to her military boots, giving her normally polished appearance an uncharacteristic dishevelment.
The gum-chewing youth squatting on the couch shrugged, his boyish features belying the mischief in his eyes. "Minor here – not technically a man. Besides," he patted invisible dust from his hands, "as Information Section 2’s technician, my lifting expertise ends at computer mice."
This declaration conveniently omitted his completed devil-like training regimen.
"Shouldn’t you protect frail youths like me, Auntie Wenren?"
Wen Renyi’s jaw tightened at the deliberate provocation. "Jiang Yan," she hissed, "Liang Ke will hear every word of this when we return."
The proclaimed genius technician merely smirked, rummaging through empty pockets. "Be my guest. Though I’d focus on our current predicament – those abominations outside ruined my gum supply and shopping schedule."
A labored breath drew their attention to the third occupant. "My…fault…" Fang Yuan lifted his sweat-dampened face, guilt etching lines around his eyes. "If not for rescuing me…"
The woman’s stern expression softened. While Jiang Yan’s barbed tongue invited retaliation, Fang Yuan’s earnest remorse disarmed her. "We stand together in foreign lands," she declared, snatching a bread packet from Jiang Yan’s bag. The plastic tore under her decisive grip.
Jiang Yan’s eyes glinted with morbid curiosity. "Place your bets – Fang Yuan’s pursuer versus our shadow stalker. Which horror wins the hunt?"
"Must you find entertainment in peril?" Wen Renyi countered, thrusting crackers at the silent Fang Yuan. The mineral water bottle hissed open in her calloused hands. "Eat. We need strength, not theatrics."
"Relax," Jiang Yan tapped his mechanical watch, the only functioning timepiece since their arrival. "Sixty minutes till Fang’s pet monster arrives. Plenty of time for strategizing."
Wen Renyi’s bitter laugh echoed through the derelict room. "Our situation deteriorates by the hour. Ideas?"
The trio exchanged weighted glances. Though matching Wen Renyi’s tier six cultivation level, Jiang Yan’s technical focus left him outmatched in combat – a truth their recent flight from otherworldly pursuers painfully emphasized.
Three days prior…
Darkness swallowed Wen Renyi mid-operation. She awoke to dew-soaked grass and groping hands. A well-placed kick sent the delinquent sprawling before her precision chop rendered him unconscious.
No teleportation spell this. Her Special Bureau communicator lay dead, confirming this wasn’t Blue Star’s 2047 metropolis. The groaning assailant revealed the truth – they’d been cast adrift in Water Blue Star’s primitive 2020, where three monolithic nations floated on alien seas.
She stood upon the land known as the East Continent, governed by the East Continent Federation.
This act of crossing over seemed connected to the recent "transmigration incident." Wen Renyi hadn’t anticipated her fortune to be this favorable – she’d truly won the cosmic lottery.
Though the Spiritual Network had publicized warnings, Wen Renyi possessed deeper knowledge as a Special Bureau operative. She immediately concealed her identity, weaving herself seamlessly into this new world’s fabric.
Yet darkness brought strangeness.
Not through personal ordeal, but through witnessed horror.
By the roadside lingered a pale figure. A truck halted briefly, then rumbled onward after mere seconds.
No doors opened. The specter phased through metal to board, pausing to glance her way before departure.
Wen Renyi shuddered, phantom coldness creeping along her vertebrae.
Jiang Yan found her then – or rather, identified her first.
The youth approached with a black canvas bag slung across his shoulders, grocery bags swinging from both hands. His opening gambit: "Still breathing, I see."
"Seems intact," he remarked with a faint smile that softened his features. "Never thought I’d be glad to see your face, sis."
He continued before she could retort, "Fellow public servants, yeah? Lend a hand with these? My arms are halfway to falling off."
Wen Renyi’s eye twitched as she seized the bags, delivering a knuckle-rapped rebuke toward his forehead.
"Mind your tongue, boy."
Jiang Yan dodged with practiced ease. "Heads and hips aren’t for casual contact, ma’am."
Zhongxia’s revised safety manual – compiled after the first crossing disasters – advised discretion above all. Concealment before confrontation. Identity protection paramount.
"Serving the people" served as their Bureau’s recognition phrase, though Wen Renyi needed no code to know Jiang Yan. Their paths had crossed during Special Bureau operations.
"How long?"
"Hour-ish." Jiang Yan fell into step beside her. "Place is a security nightmare. Nearly got mugged back there – good thing these reflexes don’t quit."
He shrugged, plastic bags crinkling. "Lucky it’s you. Couldn’t stomach reciting the damn identification protocols to a stranger."
"Did you see…that entity?"
"Ninety-nine percentile ghost. Glad you didn’t play hero."
Silence. She’d considered intervention, until recalling this wasn’t Blue Star. Unfamiliar rules governed this shadowed world.
Their wandering ceased at a weathered bench where Jiang Yan collapsed dramatically.
"Appeared by the riverbank earlier. Saw something drag a man under." His hand sketched arcane shapes in the air. "Not your standard water ghost. Something…hungrier."
Wen Renyi scanned the desolate streets. Vanished pedestrians. Thinned traffic.
"Do you feel…"
"Uh-huh." Jiang Yan hugged himself, breath frosting. "Also? Freezing. Hope you like concrete pillows tonight."
"Focus."
"Am I not? Survival basics, sis. Kids need proper sleep for optimal growth." His yawn cracked jawbones. "Besides…noticing things makes them notice back."
Thus the unlikely pair weathered the night roadside – veteran and youth, back-to-back beneath alien stars.
Fortunately, they were both practitioners whose cultivation remained intact after crossing over to this world, making an overnight stay outdoors inconsequential.
At dawn, they resolved to gather intelligence about this unfamiliar realm.
Jiang Yan, the computer prodigy with formidable hacking skills, volunteered his expertise. In any modern society with network access, information retrieval posed no challenge—the real dilemma lay in procuring a device.
After debating who should charm strangers for a phone, Jiang Yan’s boyish charm deemed suitable for disarming even octogenarians earned him the task. Just as he prepared to search using the borrowed device—blessed by this world’s script resembling Blue Star’s—the phone rang.
His finger hovered over the answer button before propriety intervened. Turning to return it, he discovered the lender had vanished. The device autonomously connected, emitting a deathly rasp that stuttered through the speaker. When the call self-terminated moments later, Jiang Yan glimpsed an ominous 4444-prefixed number fading from the screen.
Hourly calls commenced thereafter.
Both investigators intuited grave implications. Their digital sleuthing revealed only a viral ghost story titled "Ghost Call"—allegedly claiming victims through hourly summons culminating in death after three days.
"Eerily inventive," Jiang Yan remarked.
"Substantially credible," countered Wen Renyi, her Special Bureau instincts overriding skepticism. Duty-bound as senior agent, she couldn’t ignore the threat.
"Eighty percent likelihood," Jiang Yan conceded. "Deducting two points for poor storytelling."
He displayed morning news: a taxi’s fatal plunge over a cliff, license plate conspicuously visible. "Yesterday’s cab," he noted.
Wen Renyi’s photographic memory confirmed. "Any experience with spectral entities?" Jiang Yan inquired, twirling the cursed phone. "Theory abounds, practice remains virgin territory."
On Blue Star, such phenomena would’ve been contained by Yin Officials and deities like the Black and White Guardians. Here, protocols differed. At Wen Renyi’s negative response, Jiang Yan lamented theatrically: "Must I perish before my first campaign?"
Their three-day grace period contrasted with Fang Yuan’s predicament—a victim of greed who’d unfolded a roadside hundred-dollar bill, releasing its trapped red thread. Only serendipitous encounter with the investigators during street performance preparations spared him from the death-seeking ghost.
Presently in the safehouse:
Jiang Yan perched on the sofa, chin propped on palms. "These entities permit no deflection. Extermination remains our sole recourse."
"How?" He gestured at their sub-innate cultivation levels. "Bullets won’t suffice."
Wen Renyi polished her obsidian firearm. "Seven spiritual energy rounds. Supplementary talismans."
Jiang Yan produced a neck-worn jade symbol. "Daoist Priest Li’s single-strike artifact. You know its potency." The sword cultivator’s creations carried legendary might.
"Why suppress this earlier?" Wen Renyi accused.
"Same reason you withheld your arsenal," he parried. "Foreign-world artifacts risk unpredictable consequences."
Sword intent’s purifying yang energy typically devastated ghosts, yet here, prudence governed. "Necessity overrules caution," Wen Renyi declared.
Nodding, Jiang Yan acknowledged their limited spiritual reserves in this energy-barren world. "Post-exorcism priorities: securing Identity Cards."
"Convergent strategizing." He vaulted from the sofa. "Deploy formations then. Xu Li’s tutelage serves us now—binding and sealing arrays."
As Wen Renyi distributed defensive talismans to Fang Yuan, Jiang Yan positioned memorized diagrams using a compass. Unlike formation master Xu Li’s spontaneous artistry, his methodical preparations required precise talisman placement.
The countdown continued—sixty minutes until spectral confrontation.
