Chapter 103: Harvest |
As everyone knew, running a dungeon was all about the drops, the gear, the materials, and those shiny gold coins that exploded out of the boss. If you came out of it with absolutely no loot, wasn’t that just unpaid community service? Besides, even doing volunteer work usually got you a couple of eggs as compensation, right?
Now, the run was done, the loot had dropped, and everything had been appraised. Which meant it was time for everyone’s favorite part: splitting the spoils.
An Ran was a top-tier expert. Even with Ms. Wen’s arrangements and a bit of fan bias, there was no way he’d come to work for free in Ji Jue’s team. What for? Just to get up close and personal with his idol?
Yeah, right.
There were plenty of things in this world you could freeload off. You could suck on the sweets that fell into your lap and still spit them, saying they were just average. But there were favors you really shouldn’t owe, the ones that ate at your conscience and ruined your reputation. You might think you could take advantage of a kid who didn’t understand what happened, but did you really think their family and friends wouldn’t see exactly what kind of person you are?
What Ji Jue brought out was half of the total haul from this hunt.
In reality, even all of this combined didn’t amount to one-tenth of the total value of the spoils. It was all stuff that could be easily converted into money: materials, precious metals, or simply time-sand crystals.
In Mercury’s workshop, the only things that could be easily priced, the only things whose value could be clearly calculated, were basically these. Compared to everything else, these were actually the least valuable.
If you really thought about it, anyone could earn money, but could money buy Fluid Alchemy? Could it buy the blessings treasured by a sage? Could it buy that pile of long-extinct materials sitting in the workshop’s storage room?
They had value, but no market. Or rather, they didn’t even have a price. Some of them only circulated through barter between major workshops, where whether you lost out or made a killing was something only you could judge.
If Ji Jue were shameless enough, he could even take out the theoretically most valuable item of the lot, like that aether crystal. It was the control core of the entire rift realm, weighing forty-one kilograms, perfectly intact, flawless, completely natural. After being personally refined by Mercury, its purity had reached the theoretical limit. It was practically unique.
Whether used as the engine core of an island-class warship or as the command center for large-scale alchemical constructs, it was more than sufficient. He could easily put it on the market and make billions. Castles, beauties, and yachts were all within his reach.
The only slight drawback was… after being modified by Mercury, it could only be used with Fluid Alchemy. Switch to modern alchemy or any other school, and the efficiency would drop to less than one-tenth. Holding onto something at this strategic level was trouble in itself, not to mention selling it. Better to just leave it at the teacher’s workshop, stuffed away at the bottom of a chest.
Even more awkwardly, most of this haul was like that. There was no helping it. Even a sage’s household didn’t have surplus grain.
Centuries ago, when Mercury transformed the rift realm into a workshop, most of the truly valuable items in the collection had already been dealt with. What remained either matched Fluid Alchemy so perfectly that Ji Jue wouldn’t even have enough for his own future use, or they were so rare and precious that even masters would consider them excessive. Trading them for money would be the behavior of a complete wastrel.
So, after looking over the haul in his hands, Ji Jue realized that what he was left with was a mountain of materials and very little that could actually be liquidated. Even then, he had already taken all the best loot for himself, so much so that he was starting to feel guilty.
“Holy—!”
Finally snapping out of it, Tong Hua, emboldened by Ms. Wen’s protection, poked her head out from behind Wen Wen and looked at the opened boxes. Her eyes were practically glowing from the shine of the precious metals as she blurted out in disbelief, “Did you guys go into a rift realm or rob a bank?!”
Inside the boxes, there were golden, amber, silvery, and glittering items. As the only rich lady in the group, she did a quick mental estimate of the total weight and value and couldn’t help but suck in several sharp breaths. Aside from the inherent worth of the precious metals, most of these items were antiques whose value was nearly impossible to measure.
Most of them still bore the distinctive style of the Eternal Empire era. If this entire batch were dumped onto the market, it could very well send shockwaves through the entire Federation’s antique trade. As a Chosen One of the Aether Path, Tong Hua instinctively picked up an exquisite, ornate clock. Wiping off the dust with her sleeve, she leaned in and sniffed. A rich, ancient aura rushed straight at her.
It was ninety-nine percent genuine. What a rare treasure!
Before Wen Wen could stop her, Tong Hua’s eyes suddenly lit up and widened. Like an innocent puppy that had just been kicked hard, she let out a miserable cry.
“Ahhh! My krypton dog eyes[1]!”
Clutching her eyes, she rolled around on the sofa, while Mr. Zhang and Wen Wen, who were sitting beside her, didn’t even look surprised. One held her down while the other applied eye drops.
Ji Jue’s face twitched. For the first time, he felt genuine admiration for someone’s courage. He wanted to say she was brave, yet every time she saw him, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. He wanted to say she was timid, and yet she dared to look at absolutely anything.
The Time Rewind matrix allowed a Chosen One to read the history and images attached to an object through contact. Even within the Aether Path, it was an exceptionally rare and top-tier matrix.
The problem was, over the past four hundred years, Mercury had never stopped running retrospective processes inside the workshop. No matter how timeworn an antique was, after undergoing such complex interference, all its recorded traces would have turned into garbled noise. If you could still make anything out of it, that would be a miracle.
Who would’ve thought, the young woman looked so quiet and refined, but she was really that stubborn!
Faced with this mountain of wealth, An Ran’s reaction was far calmer. If anything, he had never really grasped the concept of money to begin with, nor did he care about it.
If Mr. Ji says this is mine, then I’ll just take it.
“Thank you, Mr. Ji.” The young woman smiled sweetly, closed the box, then turned to Wen Wen. “I’ll have to trouble you, Ms. Wen, to store these for me as well.”
The four members of the North Mount District were clearly much closer than ordinary colleagues in the Bureau who merely worked in the same place. Their bond ran deep.
A few years ago, not long after Wen Wen had just taken office, her extravagant spending habits, combined with her refusal to take bribes or cooperate with shady figures, had left her struggling to make ends meet.
At Tong Hua’s suggestion, she had set up a shell company. It had no real business operations and mainly handled the North Mount District’s cash flow, essentially acting as a departmental slush fund. Most of the group’s gray income passed through it.
Thanks to Tong Hua’s maneuvering and insider information, they actually managed to turn a profit through investments and began living comfortably. After all, relying solely on their fixed salaries would never be enough to sustain a Chosen One’s expenses.
With abilities and matrices in hand, coasting along was easy, but making progress was incredibly difficult. Equipment, potions, rituals, intelligence, recovery and treatment, training and advancement of abilities, mastering techniques and their consumption, obtaining blessings and carrying out operations, every single aspect required money.
Even the recent chaos caused by Lawrence, where most victims infected with Bloodlust Syndrome needed treatment and recovery, had been paid for through the company’s accounts. Now, with such a large sum added in, their financial outlook was bound to improve significantly for quite a long time.
After finishing the eye drops, Tong Hua had no time left to keep wailing. She was now sprawled over the boxes like a dragon from legend, counting the loot while letting out a nonstop stream of gleeful giggles.
Ji Jue cleared his throat seriously. Once everyone’s attention was on him, he broke into a smile and set the backpack beside him onto the table.
“This is actually the real reason I came here this time. Ta-da!”
Accompanied by his own sound effects, Ji Jue’s very first formal alchemical creation finally made its debut.
Under the soft lighting, a strangely contoured powered brace appeared before everyone’s eyes. It looked like an external skeletal support hugging the flesh, achieving movement and structural support through multiple fixation points across the thigh, joints, lower leg, and ankle.
The main body was machined from a single block of aluminum, with its structural strength and durability reinforced through alchemical methods. Following an extreme lightweight design philosophy, all unnecessary components had been stripped away, bringing the total weight down to an astonishing just over nine hundred grams.
The joint power system adopted the design from the paper, and with the use of entropy emblems and spirit matter circuits, it formed a simple magnetic energy storage structure.
When lifting or bending the leg, it absorbed part of the pressure and potential energy generated by body weight and movement, then released it during extension, minimizing the burden on the user. It could also automatically switch between modes like walking, running, and jumping based on the input force. When necessary, it could also accept the user’s own ether to briefly boost its output.
The length and detailed specifications were customized according to An Ran’s physique. This was a prosthetic limb made specifically for the boy.
Under the puzzled gazes of everyone else, Ji Jue didn’t bother explaining much. He simply pushed it toward An Ran.
“Try putting it on.”
“Huh?” The boy froze, staring at the prosthetic on the table. After a long moment, he finally processed the request. “Me?”
Under Ji Jue’s guidance, he rolled up his trouser leg, revealing the shocking iron nails embedded there, and carefully fitted the prosthetic onto his right leg.
The process wasn’t complicated. After becoming familiar with it, it could be easily put on and taken off with just one hand using two locking clasps.
The iron frame bypassed the long nails above the knee, fitting snugly against the skin. It replaced the function of the joint, bearing weight smoothly and operating with complete silence.
The room got so quiet that faint breathing could be heard. An Ran swayed slightly as he propped himself up against the sofa armrest with both hands, cautiously pushing himself upright. A strange sensation he had never experienced before washed over him.
Instinctively, he turned to look at Ji Jue. Ji Jue only smiled and made a gesture for him to keep going.
So, he took a light step forward. Then a second step, and a third.
The balance and body control granted by the White Deer Path allowed him to adapt to the prosthetic’s assistance almost instantly. By the fifth step, his movement was already completely natural.
He seemed to wake from a dream. He looked down at his feet standing firmly on the ground. Then he turned back and gave Ji Jue a bright, delighted smile.
“Seems like the basic version works fine for daily use.”
Ji Jue stroked his chin, grinning proudly, enjoying the grateful look. Then, as if performing a magic trick, he pulled out several more from his bag and placed them on the table in a dazzling array.
“Next, let’s try the extended version, the enhanced version, and the ergonomic design version!”
How could he only produce one after working on it for an entire afternoon? With Pacifier in hand, making this kind of simple alchemical work was practically like an assembly line. It was so fast it was almost frightening.
Besides, it wasn’t complicated to begin with. The design was simple. After stripping away all unnecessary fancy features, what remained was a focus on lightweight construction, comfortable wear, and straightforward durability.
“Great skill appears effortless[2]” was exactly what this was. For beginners, it was actually hard. Sometimes you ended up doing too little, sometimes too much. Hitting the perfect balance was often the most troublesome part.
Fortunately, this stage had been directly overseen and supervised by Professor Ye, saving Ji Jue a great deal of time spent groping in the dark and trial-and-error.
After reviewing the first finished prototype, the professor pointed out several issues and sent it back for revision. One hour later, a new version was produced. It was revised and rebuilt again. After three iterations, they finally arrived at a product prototype that Ji Jue saw as flawless, while the professor only described it as barely acceptable.
After that, Ji Jue simply kept going for the entire afternoon while his hands were still warm. Building on the prototype, he produced all the different planned variants in one go.
If there had been enough time, he wanted to release a flashy colored version and a glowing version, making sure An Ran would shine brilliantly in every dark night.
“There are two sets of each. If one breaks, just replace it. No need to be careful or worried about it.” Ji Jue piled one piece after another into An Ran’s arms. “Try them out over the next couple of days. If you run into any issues, just tell me. I’ll adjust and fix it immediately.
“The only downside is that the materials are fairly average, and the range of movement is a bit limited. Once you get into a real fight, it might actually slow your mobility down, so just take it off when it feels inconvenient. But for everyday use, it’s more than enough.”
After switching through several different versions, An Ran had already become quite adept at assembling and disassembling them. With the structure simplified, daily maintenance also wasn’t complicated. Just spray a bit of WD-40 wherever it feels stiff—a true foolproof maintenance method.
Seeing An Ran now running and jumping with ease, moving as naturally as everyone else, the emotionally expressive Tong Hua was already sniffling beside Wen Wen, clutching tissues.
“Waaaaah, the kid can walk now… Ms. Wen, I’m so moved…”
“Go away, go away, your nose is rubbing on my clothes. An Ran isn’t a child taking his first steps! What are you getting so emotional for?” Wen Wen grabbed her by the back of the neck and moved her aside, refusing the clinginess, though the smile at the corner of her mouth was impossible to hide. “If you really want to thank Ji Jue, then don’t come up with any more weird projects next time.”
Throughout the entire exchange, Mr. Zhang simply sat there spinning his iron walnuts, not joining the lively scene, just watching from the side. After a long while, he patted Ji Jue on the shoulder. “Not bad, young man.”
The old man had seen, enjoyed, and endured everything in his lifetime. He had been poor and rich, and lived through ups and downs. As a seasoned Chosen One who had weathered countless storms, the only thing he passed down to the next generation was a set of unmatched massage and bone-setting skills in Haizhou.
The money Ji Jue brought was certainly a pleasant surprise, but compared to that, this was something money simply couldn’t buy. This was a gesture, a gift from the heart.
Mr. Zhang’s lips moved slightly. His voice was thin and precise, landing directly in Ji Jue’s ears. “If anything troublesome comes up later, just come to me.”
Ji Jue smiled and gave a small nod. If he really cared about whether there would be trouble, he wouldn’t have done this in the first place.
He suddenly felt a weight on him. It was the boy, now walking again, who had come up to him. Standing on his tiptoes, he opened his arms and gave Ji Jue a light hug. His eyes seemed to sparkle, bright and lively, and his face was full of a pure, untainted smile.
“Thank you, Mr. Ji,” he said.
“Ah, haha… it’s nothing, really…” Ji Jue froze in place. He instinctively lifted his head, and as he grinned foolishly, he took a deep breath.
Hold it together, Ji Jue. Hold it together. Damn it, you have to hold it together!
If he blushed right now, then his nineteen years of masculinity would be threatened. Strangely enough, beyond that panic, there was something else, something indescribable, as if he had gained something far more precious.
For the first time in Ji Jue’s life, he felt pure, overflowing joy from his own creation.
He couldn’t help but look down at his own hands. “So this is alchemy?”
His fingers slowly clenched into fists. He was already looking forward to the next lesson.
1. “Krypton dog eyes” is an internet slang term that originated from World of Warcraft players’ nickname for rare in-game equipment.
It’s used as an exaggerated way to describe seeing something overly shocking or dazzling, often phrased as “it blinded my krypton dog eyes,” and can also imply something is “high-end” or impressive.
2. “Great skill appears effortless” means that truly refined and beautiful work does not require deliberate embellishment. It conveys the idea of returning to simplicity, like a heavy sword without a sharp edge, where inner mastery takes precedence as the highest state.
The phrase comes from Tao Te Ching, which says “great skill seems clumsy,” emphasizing following the natural order rather than showing off technique. It is often later referenced in wuxia culture (such as in The Return of the Condor Heroes with Dugu Qiubai) and in artistic creation, highlighting that inner strength surpasses outward form.
