Chapter 271: The First Signs of Trouble
Coincidentally, after the homework explanation, the new material they were about to learn did not overlap much with what came before. Previously, the focus had always been on how to “observe the stars,” but starting from this lesson, they began learning how to judge one’s own fate and the fate of people around them.
Of course, beginners could hardly discern anything truly useful about “fate.” And according to the teacher, this also depended on “talent.” The way he explained it even made this mysticism seem a bit more scientifically grounded.
For example, since everyone present was a Transcendent, they naturally had a stronger sensitivity to “fate” than ordinary people. If a Transcendent in daily life suddenly felt that something was wrong, or abruptly felt fear, or had the sense that they had forgotten something important, it was usually because something truly was amiss—not mere imagination.
And if you felt that your “aura” clashed with someone else’s, then chances were high that being together would lead to trouble.
These were categorized as “magnetic field” incompatibility, or “Transcendent perception.” By combining such perceptions with calculation methods summarized by predecessors, and then attempting to resonate with Transcendent energy, one could try to calculate a person’s fate.
Xu Zhi listened in confusion, feeling that something wasn’t quite right. If fate could be calculated, didn’t that mean each person’s path had already been predetermined?
Perhaps the teacher anticipated this doubt. He immediately added that a person’s fate was not fixed in advance. Calculation only revealed what a person’s destiny looked like at that moment—or rather, “what they were most likely to do.” For instance, one might calculate that a person was likely to have bad luck that day. Yet small-probability random events could still transform what should have been misfortune into safety—or turn good luck into the opposite.
The stronger a Transcendent was, the more powerful their deductive ability, and the more accurately they could calculate fate.
The teacher went on at length. The more Xu Zhi listened, the more familiar it sounded. Calculating fate—wasn’t that just like big data?
Except this was big data enhanced by Transcendent energy, which would likely be far more precise than ordinary data analysis.
Transcendent energy flowed between heaven and earth. Even unconsciously, it was constantly interacting with all things in the world. Transcendents treated this as a kind of “network,” from which they stole “information” and “data” to calculate fate.
However, Transcendent energy itself had no self-awareness and did not deliberately record what it saw or heard. For a Transcendent to sense things through their connection with it and make calculations required tremendous affinity with Transcendent energy and considerable talent.
Xu Zhi suddenly understood. So it wasn’t purely mysticism after all!
Transcendent energy could be used this way?
Since arriving in the upper districts, everything Xu Zhi had learned told her that mastering Transcendent energy was equivalent to mastering the world.
This might also explain, from another angle, why the “gods” of each attribute were so powerful—because they had likely already mastered the Transcendent energy of their respective attributes. What they obtained from it was not just power, but also vast amounts of “information,” and perhaps even things Xu Zhi had yet to comprehend.
Seen this way, the course could hardly be called “mysticism” anymore.
However, as Teacher Qin had said, sensing Transcendent energy depended largely on chance. Sometimes, while calculating, a sudden flash of insight would allow you to sense something; other times, no matter how much you calculated, nothing would come.
Because there was no guaranteed method to produce a 100% successful resonance, this aspect remained the most “mystical” part of the discipline. That was why this course was known as the one that relied most heavily on talent.
After one lesson, Xu Zhi still hadn’t learned how to calculate fate. This class had only covered the most basic introductory knowledge of a much larger curriculum. According to the teacher, calculating fate required processing massive amounts of information and computations in one’s mind. Some students who weren’t particularly sharp might struggle with this method. Xu Zhi, however, wasn’t worried—her mind was exceptionally clear now.
The “knowledge” possessed by the real world had far exceeded her imagination. She had once wondered what more the school could teach her, since she believed she was already far ahead of ordinary students in the path of Transcendence. Yet once she truly began attending classes, she realized she could indeed learn a great deal.
Moreover, after several days of serious study, Xu Zhi discovered that her own “Transcendent attribute” had undergone subtle changes. Simply put, as she mastered more knowledge, she sensed that the amount of [Lamp]-attribute energy she could draw from the air was increasing slightly.
Not by much—but it was steadily increasing along with her accumulation of knowledge.
“As expected of Lamp,” she murmured.
Anything connected to knowledge seemed to be enhanced by [Lamp], or in turn enhanced it.
It seemed she really had to study hard now.
While Xu Zhi devoted herself to learning, others in the city were not idle either.
After the horizontal blade was taken by [Gods Heavy Industries] for examination but yielded little useful information, the Council retrieved it. Though they did not state their exact intentions, those aware of the matter could more or less guess.
Sure enough, after a period of preparation, just as Xu Zhi smoothly passed the first half month of enrollment, something major suddenly erupted one evening.
Two cities away from Lian City, in Minjiang City, a “major incident” broke out.
On Minjiang’s festival day—when the entire city was celebrating wildly, with tourists from other cities visiting and livestreaming—a brutal murder case suddenly exploded.
In the livestream footage, viewers could clearly see about a dozen perpetrators. Each had a ferocious expression and pitch-black pupils. Their movements resembled wild beasts devoid of reason—bloodthirsty and frenzied. Not one of them seemed like an ordinary person.
Although the livestream was quickly cut off, the bizarre footage spread rapidly across cities. In an instant, headlines everywhere were reporting the news, all analyzing what exactly had happened to those people who appeared in the broadcast.
[They look terrifying…]
[Definitely some kind of cult again, right? They don’t look normal. Are they Transcendents?]
[Did the Moth do this? Or did Gods Heavy Industries mess up another experiment?]
[Here we go again—blaming Gods Heavy Industries every time something happens. They may be crazy researchers, but surely they wouldn’t…]
[Who knows? They’re capable of anything. Maybe this really is their doing.]
[Could be Blade too, right? Aren’t bloodthirsty lunatics usually from Blade?]
[Cults are daring to cause trouble this openly now? Minjiang’s management is way too lax! Investigate thoroughly!]
[Rumor has it this cult group has serious issues!]
[Here come the rumors again. They show up every time. Rarely accurate.]
[This time it’s real! Guaranteed! Just wait—big news is about to break.]
