[I have consumed 1 N.]

The world rewound again.

Yu Yusheng emerged in a field of scattered boulders. A beast lunged at him, but the man vanished from the spot once more in the next second. The creature stared blankly as its own paw struck the ground, sending up a ring of dust.

With three instant leaps, Yu Yusheng quickly reached the foot of that slope.

At this moment, Wang Dingshan was wrestling with another rubbery figure with the help of the Crimson Sage, as two more of those creatures were gradually taking shape in the pool.

Yang Zicang felt his body bob and fall several times, eventually landing at the foot of the mountain.

“Where are you trying to take me?”

Suddenly, a streak of white light spiraled in at high speed.

Bang! It instantly pierced the rotating energy shield that had blocked several lance strikes, easily tearing a large hole in the body of the rubbery being shackling Yang Zicang.

Fine, wavy fractures around the wound flickered like sparks, smoldering at the gelatinous trail encircling the hole.

Most of the sewage-constructed rubber monstrosity allowed the body parts near the wound to swiftly transform into water droplets and fall to the ground; there, the wavy flames fired by the fractures “burned” them into frothy energy like flying grains of sand.

Splat! The receding starlight again appeared in an instant, puncturing its form once more.

{Damn it, the Illusion Company reacted this quickly.}

A flash of light reappeared, creating another gaping hole in the tarry rubber body. If this continued, it would not be long before it was reduced to a mangled pile of junk.

Boom!

Just then, countless rocks on the ground rolled and gathered, abruptly extending into a humanoid shape that blocked the cross-shaped radiance as it burst forth anew. But even so, the stone body exploded into powder under the sheer force of that blow.

{Right here, shackle him.}

Among the rocky figure that had only existed for about a second, Han Mingxiao’s voice emerged.

{Yes, my lord!}

A haggard figure pulled itself out from the rubber man, hovering before Yang Zicang; it removed a wooden pomegranate seed pendant from its own neck.

A red-armored body rushed down the mountain slope, halting as it stood imposingly, gazing at the shadowy figure below.

Wang Dingshan raised the Scratch Card high!

“It’s a new day! The scratch prize I drew for you is—thanks for your support, loser. You will fail at everything you do today!”

The man turned his head, an ironic smirk curling his lips.

{Curses have no effect on me, because I’ve always used someone else’s identity—even the appearance.}

Lele’s diamond-shaped eyes glanced backward.

{Guess that’s no choice, then.}

The White Shadow Nian Dragon appeared in the quivering air behind Yang Zicang. The man merely glanced at it, and it cracked into countless pieces with a *pop*.

The telekinetic humanoid figure reached out and drew a somewhat dazed, translucent Yang Zicang from the real one.

Woosh! The cross-shaped light shot in at high speed, piercing through its body, blasting a huge hole in the telekinetic figure and halting its movements. The edges of the hole spun with energy to repair it, and as the body recovered, it also dimmed rapidly.

Then, the man continued raising the pendant in his hand, aiming to hang it around the neck of the disoriented Yang Zicang’s faint silhouette.

[This is…]

The Psychic Body Yang Zicang lifted his head with difficulty.

[What… is that…]

Bam! Bam!

The man’s figure became even more ethereal. Just as the starlight was about to rush in, another rock golem rose from the ground to block the attack.

{An ancient psychic artifact, a form of alchemy.}

The man’s hands, twice halted in their motion, finally continued, and the pendant landed around Yang Zicang’s neck.

The starlight shot toward his head again like a spinning shuriken. This time, without any obstruction, he smiled at Yang Zicang’s psychic body leaning forward from within.

{Sleep now, you’ll feel better after a good sleep.}

The man’s already faint apparition was shattered by the cross-shaped mark; he scattered like mist.

Yang Zicang fell to the ground.

“Damn it.” Wang Dingshan sighed in frustration.

In the distance, the sound of wind and waves rose. A broad ship shadow appeared on the dark earth, eclipsing the sky.

A tall and straight woman leaped down from the deck, about sixty to seventy meters high, catching the falling Yang Zicang in her arms. Her face was carved like jade, and every gesture she made bore a solemn, noble aura.

Swoosh, swoosh. Two figures landed behind her.

Wang Dingshan stumbled down the slope trailing a cloud of dust.

“Silver Director?”

“Mm.” The Radiant Order glanced around.

The starlight appeared, carrying Yu Yusheng’s figure by its side.

Yu Yusheng looked up at this luxury cruise ship suspended over the land. Around it, even illusory undulating waves rose and fell, as if carrying oceanic energy a few meters high, causing the ground to shimmer with wave-like, rippling blue light.

The black cube shimmered as it expanded, and Fu Qiyong, along with two figures, emerged from within with grim expressions.

Everyone’s gaze fell on the young figure lying on the ground with his eyes tightly shut.

“Officer Yao, what’s the matter with him?”

Radiant Order closed its eyes, and its skin began to writhe. A patch of white-looking skin seemed to grow from its palm, shaping into a glove that enveloped its hand.

It reached swiftly toward Yang Zicang’s body and pulled out another Yang Zicang.

“Is this his psychic body? Is it his soul?”

Wang Dingshan and the other person watched the scene curiously, seeing someone’s psychic body for the first time.

“It can be considered a form of soul manifestation—mostly the tangible representation of this life.”

Radiant Order laid the young man’s body flat, but made his psychic body sit up. Behind it, energy threads appeared like glue, connecting back to the real body.

Fu Qiyong furrowed his brows. “Someone is having a psychic-field conversation with him.”

Radiant Order nodded. “Looking at these distorted psychic terrains, it seems like a rather desolate place. Oh, I see—the other side is simulating the terrain around our company.”

“This damn bastard—without this clue, there’s no easy way for us to investigate who it is,” muttered someone in a uniform jacket behind the banner.

That scene was too familiar to the company personnel; it could have been anyone.

Fu Qiyong looked at the pendant hanging on Yang Zicang’s chest.

“What is that pendant?”

Wang Dingshan said, “It was hung on him by the shattered phantom. This seems to be their goal.”

The Radiant Order raised a hand and took it off, the pendant appearing in its hand as if it were real.

The woman’s gaze was cold and fixed on this object.

Another figure stepped down from the ship, a young man in a red jacket with a side-parted haircut.

“Those guys successfully conducted a psychic exchange with Yang Zicang and then got away. Hmm… It must be for that thing in Asna’s Psychic Loss Field.”

One person said, “Vice-Director, and you too, Director Li. An artifact from the Old World is appearing right in our company—could the [Vanguard of Vintage] be behind this?”

“The Vanguard of Vintage shouldn’t be so brazen. Besides, there’s no need for them to probe the sacred one’s Psychic Loss Field this way.”

“That makes sense too.” This person frowned thoughtfully at the young man, wondering in his heart who was pulling off something like this.

The Radiant Order thought for a moment and said, “At least this has revealed these guys’ hiding place—a trade-off. Let’s take him back first.”

……

Yang Zicang woke up in a gray, dim space. A faint mist drifted, and everything around him was barren.

Yet occasionally flickering images revealed vestiges of its past beauty, only highlighting a deeper sense of loneliness.

Yang Zicang felt his head droop again—and in that moment, the pendant that had just been hanging on his chest had vanished.

A man with slicked-back hair emerged from behind a rock, his robe trailing on the ground, a faint smile hanging on his egg-shaped face.

“That thing is just a starter. It doesn’t matter whether you have it or not—it doesn’t hinder our meeting. Hello, my name is Han Mingxiao. I used to do the same work you’re doing now at Lost Illusion Company.”

“How did I get back to the company?”

As soon as he said this, Yang Zicang looked around but didn’t see any trace of the Lost Illusion Company.

Panic struck his heart.

“Where is this?”

“I’ve traveled all over this land, recording every detail. It took quite some effort to reconstruct this psionic field. Well, it looks very similar, doesn’t it?”

“Psionic field? It really does look like it.”

With a single step, Han Mingxiao appeared before Yang Zicang, his gaze warm as he looked at the young man in front of him.

“Your Mail Emblem hasn’t been used a third time yet. Let’s go inside and take a look together. Come on.”

“Mail Emblem? You want it for just one chance to enter? What are you planning?”

He wasn’t ready with the Ability Sphere yet—without it, how could Boboli, Morrie, and his own plans move forward? Aside from power-leveling contracts, hundreds of thousands of time sequences weren’t something you could just get your hands on.

“Maintaining a psionic field is something that consumes a lot of life force. Though I’m a patient man, I don’t like to waste it.”

Han Mingxiao raised his hand, and Yang Zicang felt as if a tremendous force had bound him, his mind growing drowsy and sleepy. He turned and walked toward a relatively flat area ahead, and Yang Zicang’s figure floated along behind him.

“Right here will do. I’ll give you one more chance to consider, otherwise I’ll have to resort to other means. That will cause irreversible effects on your psyche—I hope you see reality for what it is.”

Yang Zicang watched as his own body slowly lay down on the ground.

This figure stood beside him, took off a pendant, and placed it on his chest.

“Come, unfold your model, take out the Complete Stamp Emblem, and enter the mental force field left by ‘Asna.’”

“Asna…”

A “distant” memory surfaced—atop a mountain peak…

—I walked alongside Asna.

That scene emerged within his mind.

“Are you trying to lay your hands on that entity?”

Yang Zicang struggled inwardly. Was this man intending to enter that world and do something to that mental force field?

He vaguely felt that the mental force field might very well be Asna’s manifestation.

Han Mingxiao shook his head. “Oh, you really are something.”

With a wave of his hand, an object fell from the void of the air. It was enveloped by countlessly trembling waves of malicious thoughts; one glance brought waves of disgusting emotions into the heart. Yet bizarrely, it also let Yang Zicang perceive the existence of “value.”

“Although it’s only a mental replica of that creation, it’s enough to achieve my goal.”

Han Mingxiao said in a flat tone:

“This is called the [Rebellion of Bewilderment]. Because it’s just a psychic replication, once it’s implanted into your mind, you’ll no longer remain a clear-minded person. I’ll ask you one last time: will you use the Stamp Emblem or not?”

Yang Zicang gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and arched his brows:

“Ha, I’ve suspected it ever since the editor-in-chief appeared—those inside are real human souls! Even if it costs me my life, I won’t let so many people be implicated because of me!”