Chapter 22: Wealthy and Arrogant Infinite Summer |
Wu Zhong nodded in the rain, holding his umbrella.
Hide the Door trait and just claim to be a ghostly sacrifice?
Of course that’s good—he already understood the importance of intelligence.
Concealing his own trait was a necessity.
Infinite Summer telling him not to expose it was for his own good.
Wu Zhong smiled: “Got it! But with me like this, do I count as someone from the disaster world?”
Infinite Summer nodded: “You should be a humanoid disaster. Of course you count—indeed, you’re the purest kind of ‘disaster person’.”
“Um… I mean, if I hide my ability, does that still count? Just make up a ghostly mark as a cover?” Wu Zhong pressed.
Infinite Summer explained: “That counts too. People in the circle of ‘disaster persons’ fall into three types.”
“Second, disaster artifact holders. They possess at least one disaster artifact or derivative and thus can use certain absolute powers.”
“Third, trait-infected individuals—those who, for some reason, are infected with derivative effects, like an air shield or multiversal power; they then count as people in the circle.”
“These are the most common, and even negative effects count. For example, the Ever-Thirst effect—those who are forever thirsty—are also disaster persons.”
Wu Zhong blinked: “Huh? People infected with the Ever-Thirst effect are disaster persons? That’s worse than being normal.”
Infinite Summer shook his head: “Do you really think that everyone infected with Ever-Thirst kills themselves?”
“I once saw a member of the Blue-White Society who, after being infected, held on for nearly three years without committing suicide.”
“He even used his absolute thirst to subdue a disaster artifact… it left a deep impression on me.”
Wu Zhong was baffled: “Huh? Used it to subdue a disaster artifact?”
“How could that work? Absolute thirst—what good is that?”
Infinite Summer explained: “The Ever-Thirst effect is unsolvable. Neither hormone modification nor forcibly altering brain neural responses, even twisting the mind—none of it works.”
“Infected people come with immunity to hormone tampering, immunity to external neural input to the brain, and a degree of mental resistance.”
“Moreover, absolute thirst does not actually dehydrate the body… so in theory, if someone’s willpower is strong enough and they’re willing to endure it, this can actually be a positive effect.”
Wu Zhong sucked in a cold breath—so it could work that way?
Right, so what exactly does ‘unsolvable’ mean?
What happens if they tamper with hormones? If they signal the brain with electrical input? Or maybe another disaster artifact is at play?
Unit 985 must have tried a range of methods, including drugs and surgical alteration, before declaring it unsolvable.
It turned out the Ever-Thirst effect directly neutralized those methods.
It essentially carries its own immune-like effects.
“This Ever-Thirst effect is so domineering, like a super-strong toxin—once you get it, it won’t allow you to be poisoned by anything else.”
Infinite Summer nodded: “Good summary. That’s right—anything that might ‘relieve’ the sense of thirst is made ineffective.”
“Even anything that would make absolute thirst only the body’s second most painful sensation won’t work. It must remain the primary intense negative sensation—overbearing.”
Wu Zhong murmured: “But what kind of willpower does that take? It’s absurd—how could anyone endure it?”
He’d experienced forced laughter for only ten minutes and wanted to kill himself.
Everlasting thirst would be a hundred times worse—someone could really endure three years?
“Wait a minute… you’re not bullshitting me, are you?”
“Lu Guangqi said the Ever-Thirst Plum was discovered only last year, infected 119 people total, all committed suicide without exception.”
“Where did anyone survive three years?”
Wu Zhong suddenly found a hole in the other’s narrative.
Infinite Summer froze for a moment, then gave an embarrassed smile: “Oh, Lu Guangqi said that? You remember it so precisely—haha, okay, those earlier details were my fabrication.”
“…” Wu Zhong’s mouth twitched.
Those made-up facts sounded so authoritative—how could one invent such nonsense… precise and plausible. If he hadn’t known the Ever-Thirst Plum only appeared last year, he nearly would have believed it.
Infinite Summer covered his mouth and coughed: “Ahem, the story was false, but the logic I want to convey is the same: whether an effect is negative or positive depends on the person.”
“One man’s arsenic is another man’s honey—such things happen frequently in the disaster world.”
Wu Zhong still wondered: “Why did you suddenly lie to me, Xia Ge…”
Infinite Summer looked toward the road: “Not exactly a lie—I just couldn’t find a good example at the moment. You happened to know the Ever-Thirst Plum, so I used it as an example.”
“Hmm, fabricating stories is a necessary skill in the disaster circle.”
Wu Zhong stood in the wind and rain: “I see. I remember that now.”
He hadn’t expected Infinite Summer to suddenly start spouting nonsense, and he fell into thought.
Infinite Summer continued: “So a ‘ghostly mark’—even if made up—if people believe you’ll be hunted by the Night Wandering Deity, who would know it’s fabricated? That would fall into the third type.”
“Even a useless negative effect can count as a disaster trait. Who knows what tricks people will pull?”
At this, Wu Zhong could extrapolate: “In that case, there should be a fourth type, right?”
“People with no traits or effects at all, but who know the circle’s affairs extremely well—those with power, special knowledge, or techniques.”
Infinite Summer said: “Yeah, something like that.”
“But to count, you still need a derivative artifact, which actually makes you part of the second type.”
“Derivative artifact?” Wu Zhong tilted his head—what was that?
The other peeled back his coat and pointed at the grenade Wu Zhong hid on his person: “A forced-laughter grenade—that’s a standard derivative.”
“Derivatives and disaster artifacts both have effects and are hard to distinguish. The difference is derivatives have a clear source.”
“A disaster artifact is unique, whereas derivatives are produced from it and can be mass-manufactured.”
Wu Zhong hadn’t expected the grenade hidden in his coat to be discovered.
He immediately took it out and handed it to Infinite Summer.
But the latter didn’t take it, saying calmly: “Keep it on you for self-defense.”
“The origin of this thing is a military production line. If used to produce the standard Type-86 grenade, it would be a defective product with no explosive power—but it would possess an effect that forces all living things within thirty meters to laugh uncontrollably.”
“Theoretically, just carrying one of these grenades classifies you as a second-type disaster person, making you someone in the circle… hehe.”
“After all, not every organization has an infection effect as good as an air shield.”
“Some small countries’ official containment units are pitifully equipped—no exclusive anomalies at all.”
“Basically they’re special forces plus they carry some ‘anomalous weapons’ imported from big countries!”
Wu Zhong exclaimed: “No way. If worse comes to worst, you could become an awakener, right?”
“Even in a small country, pay some money, find someone in the circle to be your benefactor, and introduce some awakeners—shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
Infinite Summer chuckled lightly: “That falls into the ‘non-proliferation of disasters agreement’—there’s a lot of murk there.”
“In short, the benefactor route is strictly prohibited and is constantly being investigated.”
“Right now, some continental countries might succeed, but weak small countries definitely cannot.”
Wu Zhong at first didn’t understand: “What difference does finding out make? The rice is already cooked…”
Then his pupils shrank: “Right, you can cancel the parent-child relationship!”
“The system that judges affiliating under a benefactor relies on official procedures. Once the officials act to revoke it, doesn’t that cut off the root?”
“With the way multiversal power works, no matter how powerful someone becomes, it could be undone in an instant! They’d revert to being mortal!”
He inferred without needing more explanation—if the official apparatus strikes to revoke an awakener’s affiliation, the consequence is clear.
It’s equivalent to invalidating their spiritual root and wiping out all cultivation.
No wonder some medium-developed countries might make it work, but small countries wouldn’t. Small countries seem lax and able to slip by, but in fact they’d be squeezed by the five great powers and have no chance.
“Exactly right.” Infinite Summer was pleased with Wu Zhong’s intuition.
“So when I said helping you awaken multiversal power, it’s a long-term plan. It’s not something you can just get right away.”
Wu Zhong nodded. Among the three paths to awaken multiversal power, the benefactor route was the easiest.
Having connections, spending money to register foster parents—that would allow awakening.
But it’s also the least secure.
Benefactor-route awakeners have their fundamental basis held by the authorities.
Once discovered, a single order and it’s over—you’re mortal again.
Without doubt, if there’s any other possible method, avoid becoming a benefactor-route awakener; it’s like being born with a critical weakness and unstable foundation.
Unless you’re already an official or planning to align with a great power.
“I understand. It truly requires long-term planning.”
Wu Zhong sighed—if he didn’t take that route, he’d have to find a Pavas to bed with, or formally take the Multiversal Academy exam.
Both were far more difficult and beyond ordinary connections.
“I actually regret taking the benefactor route to become an awakener back then; it can’t be changed now.”
“In any case, listen to me: if you have a chance to awaken multiversal power, great—if not, don’t force it.”
“Multiversal systems are traits themselves, but the energy multiversal power draws is just the unique natural energy of other universes.”
“Any disaster artifact’s effect—note, any one of them—has priority over martial arts, divine power, or magic.”
Infinite Summer’s words left Wu Zhong bitter.
Seeing this, Infinite Summer said calmly: “Don’t worry. If you come with me, I won’t shortchange you.”
“I’ll recommend you join my organization. For a humanoid disaster like you, the church will give the highest treatment—you’ll hardly have to work. Just guard a door and that’s it.”
A church? What the hell was that? Another organization?
Then again, like Zhang Qinglang being both a mercenary and a Taoist of the Celestial Master’s Residence, people could wear multiple hats.
As they spoke, a Bentley suddenly stopped by the roadside, hazard lights flashing.
Wu Zhong swallowed the question on his tongue and moved to avoid it.
He wondered how a luxury car could be parked out here in such a remote area.
Infinite Summer stepped forward to meet it and opened the door: “Yang Chunsha, you’re slow.”
A cultured, gentle voice came from inside: “Infinite Summer? Heh, get in—local 985s have already lost it.”
Infinite Summer invited Wu Zhong into the car and took the front passenger seat himself.
But Wu Zhong hesitated awkwardly at the door and didn’t open it.
“Huh?” Infinite Summer looked back at him, puzzled.
Wu Zhong’s face showed urgency, and he signaled Infinite Summer to open the door for him.
Infinite Summer froze, then realized something, his expression growing serious.
Still, he got out and opened the rear door for Wu Zhong, then sat in the back with him.
“Can’t you just—” Infinite Summer whispered.
Wu Zhong emphatically nodded, indicating exactly what Infinite Summer had guessed.
Infinite Summer was speechless. Damn—what a ridiculous trait.
It turned out to be a passive skill?
He’d overlooked this before and only now realized Wu Zhong’s trait might be even more useless than he’d imagined.
If a door is welded shut, only Wu Zhong himself can use it normally; everyone else can never open or close it!
Moreover, Wu Zhong himself cannot undo it—it's a passive effect.
Because Infinite Summer had warned him not to expose his ability, Wu Zhong didn’t dare open the car door and deliberately waited for someone else to do it.
Whenever he tries to open or close any door, that door becomes a derivative and a permanent anomalous object.
Unless Infinite Summer later confiscates the car, exposure is inevitable.
“Tsk.”
Infinite Summer was a little exasperated but didn’t show it.
After all, he was still a humanoid disaster.
But if the effect could not be undone, what use was it to let him join the church? Letting him use that welded door would be dangerous—once he used it, it could never be undone. No, this needed long-term planning.
“Who’s this kid to make you kick up such a fuss and snatch him from the 985s?” Yang Chunsha was a woman, seated behind the Bentley’s wheel with slender fingers on the dark steering wheel, which had a compass ornament at its center.
Her gold-rimmed glasses sat mid-nose, and behind the lenses were calm eyes with an intellectual charm.
Infinite Summer replied evenly: “This young brother saved my life. If not for him, I would have been infected by the Ever-Thirst Plum.”
“He helped me, so I couldn’t leave him to the 985s.”
Wu Zhong glanced at him in surprise—good grief, spouting nonsense again?
Hadn’t he just said to his companions that they’d claim the ghostly mark story? Now he was making up another lie.
Oh—maybe this woman wasn’t one of his associates.
Wu Zhong watched Infinite Summer lie casually and thought to himself: learned something, learned something.
And he immediately put it to use, hiding the fact he could remove the welded-door effect.
He had no choice—his ability basically only had this one controllable point; this was the only thing he could hide.
As long as he didn’t actively try to undo it, the trait functioned like a passive.
“Infinite Summer, do I believe you?” Yang Chunsha picked up on his untruth.
“This kid must be related to the Mount Lu incident. Otherwise, given your record, you wouldn’t have made such a commotion.”
“You rarely ask others to help you escape… you always complete tasks alone and leave without anyone knowing.”
“You… only hung the help task so you could bring him away and limit checks to local mercenaries.”
Infinite Summer shrugged: “Believe it or not—my mission’s done. All 985 intelligence about Mount Lu has been uploaded.”
“If you want Mount Lu info, buy it from the club yourself. Why ask me… bronze?”
Through the rearview mirror, Yang Chunsha gave him a reproachful look: “I’m a small local player—haven’t dared take a mission this level for years. I go to the office, clock in, collect a salary—almost broke. How could I afford such intelligence?”
“How about this: I came to rescue you. In northwestern Jiangxi, this was the only urgent extraction I dared take.”
“Just tell me—help a poor sister out.”
Wu Zhong thought inwardly: driving a Bentley and claiming poverty—please.
Infinite Summer’s tone was cold: “Bronze, just follow my lead. Why do you care so much?”
Yang Chunsha wasn’t satisfied: “The Mount Lu Cloud Dragon incident appeared suddenly on the 17th. Such a big stir—the disaster world is all paying attention and eager for more intel.”
“Related info sells for top prices in the market!”
“The platform orders for investigating this event have gone insane, but no one dares to rashly provoke the 985s—everyone’s waiting and watching…”
“Only Infinite Summer was bold—he infiltrated that day, uploaded first-hand data, and walked out intact.”
“Come on—show a little of what you did; sister would benefit immensely.”
Her voice shifted from cool and intellectual to sweet and coaxing, and Wu Zhong almost wanted to speak.
But he kept his mouth shut, thinking: this woman really isn’t Summer’s colleague, probably just a hired helper.
Infinite Summer had no local access and couldn’t teleport away with another person. So he’d posted a help request in the club to pull in a local mercenary with connections to help extraction.
Yang Chunsha knew Infinite Summer had done a major job and intended to squeeze some information to sell—she took the job and wanted extra profit.
Infinite Summer replied: “Cut the nonsense. I spent twenty Bits on this mission. Do you want me to cancel and leave a bad review?”
“You—” Yang Chunsha immediately backed down: “No… no, I barely landed a big job. I’m just chatting with you—do you have to be like this?”
Wu Zhong was stunned—twenty Bits?
Isn’t that the unit for multiversal power? It seems also a currency unit?
“Could it be… Bitcoin?” he whispered in amazement.
He suddenly recalled that during the fight with Zhang Qinglang, Infinite Summer had flashed a USB drive at him.
Maybe that was showing a Bitcoin wallet he carried.
Yang Chunsha heard Wu Zhong’s quiet words and, though small, still understood.
She quickly stopped trying to extract information from Infinite Summer and turned to Wu Zhong: “Kid, in the disaster world, Bitcoin is hard currency.”
“Right now the market price is over a million yuan per Bitcoin. Sister rarely makes money; as a Bronze, the club takes half of those twenty coins.”
Wu Zhong’s mind reeled.
So it really was Bitcoin—twenty of them, that’s about twenty million yuan!
He thought of something even more shocking: Infinite Summer had told Zhang Qinglang he had thirty thousand Bits.
No wonder Zhang Qinglang had been terrified and called for the Ancestral Master to save him… that’s immense wealth.
Wu Zhong stared at Infinite Summer—he hadn’t expected the man beside him to be a billionaire.