Chapter 381: Gold Power Space, the Weak Rely on Fortune

Return to Emperor Tomb Village.

Ji Chen arrived before the Rule Divine Pillar and summoned the Enlightenment Mall interface.

After deciding to assist the Long Yi clan’s development, his first concern was safety.

Death for players is merely a brief wait, but for Long Yi clan members, it is eternal slumber.

The Enlightenment Mall offered many life-saving items.

The most famous was the legendary item once used by the Star Net, called “Million Radiant Slash Reverses the Situation”: Location Teleport.

Secondly, the Enlightenment Mall contained many enhancement items.

Such as the Windwalker Charm for speed boost, Life Enhancement Balls, and more.

Although the Trading Hall offered many enhancement potions produced by the Alchemy System, these potions were only compatible with players and generally carried severe side effects.

The one thing players cared least about—life—was precisely what other races valued most.

Aside from the Black Black Tide faction, which could reverse various side-effect potions into pure energy for consumption, most lifeforms using “player potions” were essentially committing suicide.

This was his core purpose in returning: to purchase a batch of life-saving items.

First, fully arm the Long Yi clan to ensure they wouldn’t die suddenly from unexpected incidents.

The price of “Enlightenment Info Spheres,” collected and listed by Exploration Faction players in the Trading Hall, had recently risen sharply, but Ji Chen did not hesitate for a moment.

After procurement, Ji Chen went to the Armored Vehicle Factory and upgraded the vehicle’s performance.

For frequent travel between these two regions, besides the Space Teleport Array, vehicles were another way to improve travel efficiency.

Afterward, Ji Chen made bulk purchases of healing potions in the Player Mall.

The effects of potions in the Player Mall ignored all injuries and illnesses.

This was why the Gold Coin Guild could buy these potions cheaply in the Mall and sell them at high prices externally.

Such goods could reduce casualties among the Long Yi clan during external combat and exploration.

After procurement, Ji Chen went to Emperor Tomb Village Library.

He began reviewing materials on “City Defense Facility Construction.”

Facing sudden descent crises, the city defense system was one of the core indicators determining how long the Long Yi clan could hold out.

Even if they ultimately couldn’t resist the invading descent forces, holding out longer meant more chances for turning the Black Tide.

The time gained could be used to contact his fellow countrymen’s Legion for reinforcements.

They would also need time to assemble and prepare.

To enhance the Long Yi clan’s crisis response capability, the existing city defense system had to be torn down and rebuilt, optimized using advanced knowledge from the library.

Based on search results, he selected ten relevant books and sat down in the reading area.

The books flew from the shelves and landed automatically on the desk.

His Brain Overclocking trait activated—time seemed to slow.

The Qi particles floating in the light beams from the library’s dome, the faint air currents stirred by turning pages—all became traceable patterns.

His fingertips moved across the book spines at near-blur speed.

“Fortress Construction Science—Volume One,” “Basic Rune Matrix Construction,” “Defensive Energy Barrier Model—Volume One”… the content of city defense system texts flooded his mind like a waterfall as pages turned.

Complex structural diagrams, under Brain Overclocking’s boost, automatically decomposed into basic modules.

Images of Long Ting City from above surfaced in his mind.

“The western wall needs an energy buffer layer… the Dragon Scale Wall should be infused with a Star Marrow Spirit Array to improve energy flow efficiency…” he murmured unconsciously, mentally sketching a 3D blueprint of Long Ting City.

This was the visualization effect triggered by Brain Overclocking after absorbing knowledge—automatically stitching together memories.

Two hours later, Ji Chen suddenly pressed his throbbing temples.

The searing heat of overclock overload spread along his nerves; excessive mental energy drain left him dizzy and disoriented.

The power of Brain Overclocking was undeniable, but its flaw was clear: each use drained immense mental energy.

The higher the rank, the greater the drain.

This was why the God King always carried several power banks during battlefield command.

“Enough.” He shut off Brain Overclocking—the golden glow in his eyes vanished.

Now he only needed to return to Long Ting City and “print” these blueprints from memory.

Deep research could be left to the Long Yi clan’s scholars.

He couldn’t handle every task himself.

He stood, left the library, and flew toward Emperor Tomb Village’s teleport point.

His next target: the teleport array connecting Color Mist Coast to Long Ting City.

While flying, Ji Chen recalled the panicked expression on Long Yi’s Iron Face when he chose “Self-Dissolution”:

“I went too far. Guess I’m gonna get beaten.”

…

Primordial Altar.

Everything Ji Chen had done was observed by Qi Sheng.

Including his strategic planning for the Long Yi clan’s development.

As Ji Chen left Emperor Tomb Village for Color Mist Coast, Qi Sheng withdrew his gaze.

It was foreseeable: another major taxpayer, similar to Little Mage, was about to emerge.

All future outputs from the Long Yi clan’s development would flow through the Trading Hall, allowing Qi Sheng to collect taxes.

After receiving feedback from the Guidance System, Qi Sheng ceased monitoring Ji Chen and shifted his attention to other players.

…

Land of the Rising Sun.

Above the heavens hung three nearly extinguished suns.

These were the residual energies of the god “Kari,” once granted imperial decree by Emperor Zhao, after his fall in the Cataclysm War.

At this moment, a player strolled through the Giant Beast Basin south of the Land of the Rising Sun.

The entire region was the petrified remains of an ancient giant beast, its bones long fossilized yet frozen in its living posture.

Its spine jutted skyward like a broken mountain ridge; its ribs formed steep arches; its skull buried deep in the earth, leaving only two hollow eye sockets staring at the heavens.

At sunset, the afterglow pierced the beast’s ribs, casting countless elongated shadows on the ground.

The grayish-bone surface crawled with rust-like crimson veins, like dried blood; some joints were now entwined with resilient vines.

Here, plants, insects, monsters—all thrived on this colossal relic.

Moss sucked trace nutrients from fossilized bone marrow, forming emerald velvet carpets.

Iron vines climbed along the rib arches, weaving them into green domes.

Fierce Bone Claw Beasts fed on weathered bone fragments to replenish calcium for their shells.

This ancient, sky-piercing beast, dead since primordial times, had given birth to a complete ecosystem in another form—every inch of bone transformed into a cradle of life, sustaining silent vitality beneath the gaze of three dying suns.

“Hahaha.”

As he passed through a rib arch, Bo Yan suddenly burst into laughter.

At the upper-left corner of his vision floated the Player Forum.

He was reading a post titled: “Player Class Strength Rankings—All My Opinions, Disagree If You Dare.”

The comment section scrolled slowly with his gaze.

As an Exploration Faction player, his journeys were accompanied not only by scenery and novel discoveries, but also by the countless amusing stories from “Fellow Countrymen Forum.”

He loved the Player Forum most.

Especially the comment sections of heated debate threads.

In these threads, strangers acted like enemies, engaging in pure verbal battles with zero stakes.

Though they had no currency or sacrificial power, they still output opinions based on their values and preferences, matching opponents of comparable intellect in distant verbal combat.

Emoticons clashed with elegant language, warming his heart.

Truly a kind, loving, cultured group of fellow countrymen—he envied their vast vocabularies.

The same topic always led to opponents being labeled with all sorts of epithets.

“Copy-Paste Dungeon Guy,” “Backline Biubiu Monster,” “Baby-Bearing Worker”… each title precisely targeted the essence of the playstyle.

The forum’s fellow countrymen were like endless meme-generating machines.

They could quote classics and discourse philosophically, elevating discussions to profound heights.

Then, in the next breath, roll up their sleeves, insult the opponent’s innocent family, relatives, and friends with the most earthy street slang in a full-throated family defense battle.

In Bo Yan’s eyes, their linguistic talent was off-the-charts.

They turned simple opinion clashes into dazzling linguistic performances.

Interspersed with ingenious metaphors and endless puns, they always left him awestruck—he felt their minds held a self-updating dictionary, each heated argument like poetry woven from words.

It was precisely because of these ridiculous fellow countrymen that the forum offered fresh entertainment every day.

Bo Yan scrolled through the comments with delight, his lips curling unconsciously.

The comment section under this post was truly brilliant.

Just now, a player with the ID “First Noob in Server” was furiously typing in the comments:

“Can exploration even be called a class? Isn’t it just wandering street hooligans?”

Someone immediately retorted:

“Laughed to death—some people treat gaming like a 9-to-5 job, track dungeon cooldowns more accurately than their parents’ birthdays, and still dare to look down on explorers.”

That line hit his funny bone perfectly.

He particularly enjoyed watching these utterly meaningless arguments.