Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1209 - 587_2

Fang Cheng directed his eyes once again to the blood moon looming high above to test his theory.

A subtle spiritual vibration transmitted over, validating his idea.

The clue regarding the "feast of slaughter" surfaced anew.

From a lifeless void of pure will, the Inner World was transforming into a full-fledged realm complete with cycles of life.

Right now, it remained feeble, merely in its nascent phase.

Still, this shift promised profound implications, holding vast potential for expansion beyond imagination.

A spark of thrill tugged at Fang Cheng's lips as he tilted his head upward.

He raised his right hand, palm directed skyward toward the towering blood moon.

His fingers extended wide before clenching tight in a sudden grip.

Buzz—

The masked will, held firmly in check, reacted at once, dutifully unleashing its stored massive power.

Overhead on the island, fierce gusts whipped the air into a frenzy, stirring a raging gale.

Scant clouds amassed swiftly, growing dense and blotting out the stars like spilled ink.

Following a series of dull thunder rumbles, sheets of rain crashed down with a roaring "swoosh."

Fang Cheng remained rooted, allowing the downpour to drench his shoulders and features.

This deluge lacked clarity, yet beneath the darkness, it shimmered with a subtle crimson tint.

Lacking acidic bite, it carried instead a crisp aroma blended with the scent of damp soil.

He extended his hand, gathering several raindrops in his palm.

Thanks to his sharp eyesight, minuscule organisms appeared crammed inside each drop.

Right then, they dispersed uniformly via the rain over expansive meadows, woods, and peaks, sinking into the earth below.

"The solitary yang does not produce, the solitary yin does not grow; all things carry yin and embrace yang, and harmony is achieved by penetrating..."

Murmuring these words, Fang Cheng found his earlier realizations sharpening into vivid clarity.

He wandered leisurely through the crimson shower, sensing the ground hungrily drawing in the life force from the falling water.

In his thoughts, an epic vision began to unfold.

Someday ahead, with the mask consuming additional victims and gaining richer fuel.

These tiny beings would advance to bugs, then to fowl and wildlife, multiplying wildly across ridges and thickets.

And Fang Cheng would reign as the architect guiding every step of this genesis.

Commanding an entire domain at will and beholding life's dawn proved far more thrilling and addictive than simple brawling to slay foes.

With a mere notion, he halted the storm instantly, clouds parting like retreating waves.

Shaking free the droplets from his form, he pivoted and climbed the broad black stone stairs toward the opulent golden edifice.

The massive doors creaked open gradually, his steps resounding through the vacant chamber with a holy, otherworldly aura.

No torches burned within, but gentle radiant gold light permeated every corner.

Mighty pillars bore elaborate engravings, while the vaulted ceiling thrust upward endlessly, linking to boundless emptiness.

Straight to the hall's far end strode Fang Cheng, claiming the expansive Golden Throne.

Leaning back firmly into the seat, he craned his neck to behold the immense ceiling above.

A magnificent celestial canopy spun lazily overhead.

Myriad twinkling specks aligned precisely against the profound backdrop, mirroring the actual cosmos within.

Each pulsing gleam marked the mental positions of devotees linked spiritually to him.

Fang Cheng's eyes settled on the pair of most luminous orbs dead center.

They signified the spots for Lin Chuqiao and the Professor.

Since that final clash, when all pooled their mental forces against the Lord of Slaughter's fragment.

He sensed distinctly how the bonds with these two had widened and solidified.

Before, pulling them through dimensional walls demanded huge mental strain to shatter the lofty barriers at their power origins, akin to drilling through granite.

Today, those walls bore fissures welcoming him.

A lighter push sufficed now, tracing the widened paths to breach bounds and summon their minds into the Inner World.

Drawing back his sight, Fang Cheng shifted focus to the starry expanse's edges.

Dotting the periphery were roughly a dozen barely visible glimmers.

Resembling dawn's dying embers, they pulsed oddly, sending obscure messages.

These marked the fresh recruits to the Illuminati.

Lacking profound mental ties, their rapport with Fang Cheng felt remote and shaky.

He fixed on these specks, his gaze intensifying steadily.

Around each, a foggy veil enclosed them.

This formed the innate shield of ability-wielding mutants.

Beyond that safeguard lurked some immense enigmatic entity, bestowing gifts yet gripping their fates.

Put differently, these altered humans served, in essence, as fodder nurtured by those superior minds.

Spotting these signs ignited a fierce claim in Fang Cheng's core.

Having sworn fealty and enlisted, these souls now served as his instruments.

No traces from rival powers could linger etched in their essences!

Beyond ownership urges and power boosts, this guaranteed their utter devotion.

Probing these unknowns gradually in the flesh posed grave dangers and grueling toil.

Instead, strike their mental roots directly, replicating the bonds forged with Lin Chuqiao and the Professor by storming their depths.

Wipe out prior stamps, integrate their psyches into this firmament, etch Fang Cheng's seal upon them.

This offered the swiftest, permanent fix.

Such notions drew Fang Cheng's stare across those dim dozen stars.

Finally, it pinned on the feeblest glow.

That traced the "Fire Dragon"'s mental anchor.

Likely from beholding Silver Wing Building's horrors, sheer terror had gripped him.

Added to kowtowing for mercy back then to live.

Thus, its pulse quickened faintly, noted keenly by Fang Cheng.

Per the Professor's updates, Fire Dragon recovered at the clinic post-coma, progressing well and regaining speech.

Lately, Special Search Team tests left no chance for Fang Cheng to question him.

He'd intended post-exam to extract the Masked Guest’s multimillion foreign account code from Fire Dragon before ruling his end.

Yet circumstances now complicated that call.

Free him?

Military sweeps raged through the streets; loosing a Silver Wing survivor spelled nonstop woes.

Eliminate him?

That squandered his solid fighting skills and intel worth.

Plus, he'd vowed to let live if the password yielded.

Fang Cheng wasn't holy, yet he shunned casually snapping his own codes absent need.

Fingertips grazed the throne's icy metal rest lightly, a mesmerizing spark lit Fang Cheng’s eyes.

A fresh option lay open now.

No agonizing over slay-or-free bind.

Simply breach Fire Dragon’s mind as with Lin Chuqiao and Professor links.

Rip through the frail mental shield, wrest "ownership" from the shadowy lofty force!

Then, Fire Dragon would yield the code willingly and morph into a fanatically devoted fighter.

Fang Cheng rose leisurely, his robes rippling faint currents in the still chamber.

Gazing at Fire Dragon's pale star, an icy grin bent his mouth.

Then, you'll be first!