[The Barking Dog Gate is watching me.]
“……”
On the pitch-black door before me, the left side bore a carved grinning short-haired pug; while the right side featured a… cold black Doberman that looked like a pirate captain with its right eye covered, a brilliant gleam shining in its exposed left pupil.
Its ears stood up alertly, brimming with energy.
“This room?”
The two at the end of the corridor stepped closer, nearly pressing against the door.
“Though it looks a bit like our office, inside it’s actually a real manifested mental space. Come on, let’s go in and pick a training ground that suits you.”
{ Please submit your employee card. }
Yang Zicang inserted the card into the slot beside the door.
Lines reminiscent of a Modal Aura flashed within the black Doberman’s eyes; they swiftly outlined a small holographic screen like a misty phantom.
[I, the Great Quadrilateral, shall now open [Spiritual Realm Training Ground III].]
[The Barking Dog Gate tells me I can take a look first.]
—…
— Spiritual Realm Training Ground III
— Persons permitted to pass through this gate: Employees of the Lost Illusion Company soon to stabilize the “Three Rings, First Order” of mental power.
— The content of this training ground is released in the form of Psi-kat Cassettes.
— Based on accrued points, “Mental Power Circulation Patterns” suited for stabilizing Three Rings-level mental power can be redeemed.
—…
The holographic screen vanished just moments after Yang Zicang finished reading it.
“What exactly are these ‘Mental Power Circulation Patterns’?” Yang Zicang asked, staring at the words on the screen.
“In short,” Wei Zhenguo looked at him and began, “The so-called operation pattern can be understood as a mental force route circulating in the body. Unlike secret techniques, it will gradually disappear once you fully stabilize the third cycle of your mental force.”
“The third cycle?”
“Exactly. Its main purpose is to help you stabilize the third-cycle intensity of your mental force. Only then can you truly integrate the third cycle of the Cycle of Blood in the future.”
Yang Zicang pondered and said, “So you mean that the mental force assessment we received is just a reference to the mental force intensity of someone capable of bearing the bloodline, right?”
Wei Zhenguo nodded seriously.
“The third cycle is a critical one. Only by truly stabilizing the third cycle can the integration of the bloodline have meaning.”
“I understand—because of ‘Astral Origin’, right? Astral Origin is only born when the third cycle of the bloodline is awakened.”
“You know quite a bit, but you got one thing wrong. It’s not that Astral Origin appears only after awakening the third cycle—it exists as soon as you successfully integrate it.”
Yang Zicang’s brow twitched slightly. “Then what exactly is ‘awakening’?”
“If you want to know more, make sure you’re prepared to stay,” the middle-aged man said with a chuckle. “If that’s the case, maybe I’ll even get to toast at your wedding before I leave.”
“Huh…” Lost in thought, Yang Zicang let out a strange, derisive chuckle. “You’re overthinking it. Wait—did you say ‘leave’?”
“Haha! Not to worry—the company has plenty of eligible young people, all talented and attractive… Yeah, I plan to leave.”
Yang Zicang pushed the door open.
Contrary to expectations, what Yang Zicang saw when he pushed open the door was not a dark and silent world, but a place resembling a small tavern, filled with a modestly lively yet not chaotic atmosphere.
Soft light, like the gauze skirt of the moon, enveloped the space of several dozen square meters ahead.
As the door was pushed open, the clamorous rows of “people” inside all turned to look over.
“—A new human has arrived.”
“—Is someone with mental power close to the third ring here for assessment?”
“—Welcome, welcome.”
Yang Zicang, who had originally wanted to ask Wei Zhenguo when he planned to leave, was instantly startled by this scene.
“These are…” Yang Zicang glanced at the various strange shadowy figures inside, then turned his head to look at Wei Zhenguo behind him.
“They are the associated Demonic Nightmare Spirits, temporarily possessing humanoid telekinetic bodies in this training ground. Hmm, monitored remotely,” the man said while stroking his chin.
“No wonder.” Yang Zicang observed; these translucent figures were like jello, some large, some small. Although they were dressed in human-like clothing, they were outright demonic creatures pretending to be human.
“—Hello, I’m Zhao Pangpang. Which training ground are you joining?”
A lady with a head as big as a cow wobbled over, planting a hand on Yang Zicang’s shoulder.
As her voice faded, several more strange psychic bodies, like toy figurines, stirred awake in distant rooms within the training ground. It seemed that, upon learning someone had entered this place, these “demonic nightmare spirits” were rushing over to watch the spectacle.
—”We can also invest in some pocket money for you.”
—”Last month, I had a hundred virtual zero coins.” A handsome psychic man stood up and said, “My name is Xiao Bin.”
But as the handsome man took a step, his twisted gait made the psychic body look like one of those long, inflatable balloon figures swaying endlessly in the wind at a phone store entrance.
More and more of these “people” crowded around, their appearances unsettling. Yang Zicang noticed that their voices didn’t come from the psychic bodies themselves, but from loudspeakers around the room. Moreover, many of the sounds were accompanied by faint, indistinct noises that did not belong to this place.
These psychic bodies were merely being controlled by distant demonic nightmares.
Two men with relatively steadier gaits, though only half the height of an average person, rushed over carrying a small shelf. They set it upright in front of Yang Zicang.
A short, doll-like psychic man picked up a cartridge with a dynamic lightning pattern and handed it to Yang Zicang.
—”Your first time, huh? Quick, pick one—this one’s fun!”
Yang Zicang looked at the bright orange psychic-game cartridge that was pressed into his hand.
*Pixel Storm Saga II: Supersonic Rush*
—”That one’s too hard!”
Another elfin, petite young woman came running over, her lips smeared with lipstick that was garish and flashy to the point of being tacky.
— “Supra Spark! You’re just trying to make this human get a Favorable Review so you can go in and play yourself, aren’t you!”
She hit the nail on the head, instantly laying bare the short psychic man’s hidden thoughts.
Yang Zicang looked askance at him, eyeing as rolls his eyes and shrugs he did, while another psychic, carrying a rack of cartridges, lumbered over to him and said in a simple, honest tone:
“The training ground has three rating levels: SUPER, GOOD, and DULL.”
“And then?” Based on the guy’s earlier suggestion, Yang Zicang had already anticipated what was coming.
Sure enough, the naïve voice of this psychic emanated loud and clear through the speakers on the wall, saying: “If you can’t reach the GOOD level, we can all go in with you and help clear the game.”
— “How about you try this one instead?”
The psychic girl, as if an airy sprite, picked up with some visible effort a cartridge labeled *Black Alice in Cyber-Hell*.
Before Yang Zicang could get a closer look, the plump-bodied female psychic hauled over another psychic gaming cartridge—*Ultimate Multiplayer Kitchen Carnage*.
— “This one’s okay too; it’s a whole lot of fun. And if you get a SUPER rating in this one, you’ll earn the ‘Basic Motion Circuitry’ that sharpens your perception of the wind.”
“You’re all just trying to get a chance to play for yourselves, aren’t you.”
Wei Zhenguo strode in with a smile stretching all over his face.
Yang Ziocang glanced at him. “I think I know why almost no one comes here normally—because this is the place for mental training of the attendant malignant nightmares of our Red Model colleagues, right?”
“Ha, I suppose so. Everyone can use it. But the only training fields they can enter are of the ‘edification’ type. You should know what that means.”
Instantly, a scene flashed through Yang Zicang’s mind: a gathering of attendant malignant nightmare spirits, sitting neatly in a classroom, listlessly listening to a teacher preaching about ideological virtues while waiting for the class to end.
Looking at those eyes before him, flickering with eager anticipation, the corner of Yang Zicang’s mouth twitched.
Wei Zhenguo took the cassettes from Yang Zicang’s hands and placed them back into the shelf.
“Xiao Zang, your model’s ability is aligned with ‘wind,’ and wood, is the product of wind generating the actual object, ‘wind belongs to wood.’ Thus, I’d suggest choosing a training field that specifically enhances the attunement to wind-related aspects.”
[The Barking Dog Gate announces: I, the Great Quadrilateral, can only select the second training cassette after obtaining a GOOD rating on my own.]
[Therefore, you must choose carefully. If it drags on like a dead-end job and you fail to earn a GOOD rating for a very long time, even wanting to switch to another foundational operational pattern will no longer be possible.]
His scanning gaze flickered frostily and passed across row upon row of mental force cassette tapes lined up like book spines. Then, abruptly, his gaze sharpened.
“I choose you.”
Yang Zicang pulled down this materialized mental force gaming cartridge; when his fingertip touched its surface, its outer layer shimmered with a faint mist, resembling the icy vapor that emanates from an ice cream cart just taken out from a freezer.
Li Hao’s Legend: Pushing Boxes in a Swift Wind.
Wei Zhenguo said, “Oh? Box pushing, you chose this?”
“Hehe, didn’t you say wind belongs to wood? Just from the name, this one looks like a suitable training ground for me.”
A few nearby spiritual entities turned their gaze toward the cassette in Yang Zicang’s hand.
—“This one’s no fun.”
—“Boxes fall from the sky, big ones at that, spinning around, leaving you bruised all over. If you pick it, you won’t clear it. Listen to me, swap it out.”
—“It reminds me of getting shelled on the Remittance Battlefield.”
“Go ahead, it’s right across from us.”
Wei Zhenguo patted Yang Zicang on the shoulder and pointed to the tightly shut door across the room, which resembled a “tavern dance floor.”
Cassette in hand, Yang Zicang turned around: “Why would you resign? Uncle Wei, can you actually leave this place?”
“Of course, I can move on to a new Fate Track.”
“I see,” Yang Zicang said, his eyes half-lowered. “You know about the past, yet you can still head toward a new Fate Track.”
“Because a new fate is nothing more than a copy of an ancient Fate Track, isn’t it?” he said with a smile:
“I’ve been resting here for several years now. I’ve earned an Elite Employee review before, but becoming a Group Leader is still a distant hope. So… heh, I kinda miss those days when I could go out and fight as a youngster.”
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