Travel through time, and then establish an anomaly management bureau!

Page 35

The young man remained immersed in his own world, his steps heavy.

The middle-aged man behind him, named Charles, walked with a steady gait, yet his senses were exceptionally sharp. Zhang Su could feel the taut lines of the man's back, an instinct born from a long period of vigilance.

Just then, Charles quickened his pace almost instinctively, pressing himself against the young man's shoulder, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Young master, that man behind us seems to have been watching us ever since he came down from the deck. We'd better keep our distance from him from now on."

Upon hearing this, the young man paused almost imperceptibly, then let out a soft sigh: "Charles, can you please stop being so paranoid? We just randomly picked an ordinary ship to return to Miga, it's not like anyone anticipated this and started tailing us."

His voice was also very soft, revealing a restlessness stemming from being overprotected.

“Young Master, caution is never a bad thing.” Charles’s voice remained steady, with a hint of stubbornness. “When you’re out and about, it’s always good to be a little more careful. Especially at times like this.” He emphasized “at times like this.”

Their conversation, though barely audible, clearly reached Zhang Su's ears—proof that his body had been strengthened after he had contained multiple anomalies.

He felt a chill run down his spine and muttered to himself, "Tsk, so alert! I've been careful enough, and this butler still noticed me even when I was just a couple of glances from two meters away? It seems this middle-aged man is no ordinary person; his senses are incredibly sharp... And he called that young man 'Young Master'? Ha, has this stinky out-of-town transmigrator stumbled upon a local nobleman traveling incognito?"

Zhang Su remained expressionless, maintaining his original pace and distance.

After walking down a corridor covered with a gorgeous carpet, he arrived at the door of his cabin.

He took out a brass key, inserted it into the lock, and opened the door with a click. He walked in naturally, then closed the door behind him, separating the corridor from the master and servant.

Before the door closed, he glimpsed the young man and Charles continuing forward, disappearing into the more luxurious cabin area at the end of the corridor.

The cabin door shut out the outside noise, and the luxury and tranquility of first class instantly enveloped him.

Zhang Su let out a long sigh of relief, feeling his tense nerves relax slightly.

He ripped off his well-tailored, expensive black suit jacket and tossed it onto the large bed covered with a silk bedspread.

Then, he somewhat roughly loosened the collar that was constricting his neck, unbuttoned the delicate cufflinks, and casually rolled up the shirt sleeves to his forearms.

"This outfit... it looks good, and it's really expensive, but wearing it feels like being tortured!" he complained in a low voice, throwing himself heavily into the large, top-quality leather armchair in the center of the room, almost sinking into it, assuming a standard "slacking off" posture.

He didn't care at all that his expensive trousers were wrinkled. "The first thing I'll do when I get to Miga is change out of this! I'll find the most comfortable cotton clothes and stop pretending to be some kind of high-society person. Let whoever wants to pretend, pretend!"

After lounging on the sofa with his eyes closed for a moment to rest, Zhang Su opened them, his gaze clearing again. A thought flashed through his mind: 'Back to the Foundation.'

The next second, the luxurious cabin scene before my eyes rippled, faded, and disappeared like waves on water.

When he opened his eyes again, he was already sitting inside the cornerstone—in the same large, but more industrial and cold-feeling "director's chair" in the office of the director of the Curtain Cornerstone Administration.

Beyond the massive floor-to-ceiling windows in the concrete core style lies that eternal, reassuring gray, chaotic sky.

Without a moment's delay, Zhang Su's consciousness once again sank into the void within his body that connected to countless "collectibles." Locking onto his target, he whispered the command: "Take out the Shadow-Stealing Gloves."

Without a sound, a pure black left glove, cool and smooth to the touch and made of neither leather nor cloth, quietly appeared on his large desk.

The gloves had a faint, eerie, oily sheen, which looked somewhat mysterious in the cold office lighting.

Zhang Su picked up the glove and skillfully slipped it onto his left hand, clearly rehearsing its ability in his mind: When worn on the left hand, in dimly lit environments (such as shadows or night), it significantly reduces the wearer's presence, making their figure blurry, as if blending into the shadows, making them difficult for ordinary people and low-level superhumans to detect—it is not invisibility. However, if worn for more than fifteen minutes, the left hand will gradually become cold and numb, losing sensation. After removing it, the numbness will slowly subside, but frequent use may lead to permanent stiffness in the fingers.

The cool touch enveloped my left hand, bringing a strange sense of isolation.

Zhang Su looked at the hand covered in black and thought to himself, "That Charles is too alert. He would definitely notice any ordinary observation. If we want to keep an eye on that master and servant pair again, we'll have to rely on you."

He flexed his black-gloved fingers slightly, hoping to figure out what the 'strange aura' was before it aroused their excessive suspicion.

Once it's confirmed to be harmless or temporarily irrelevant, stop immediately and don't cause any more trouble.

The strange feeling of his left hand being wrapped in a glove gave him more confidence for his upcoming "covert operation".

Then, he took off his gloves and put them back on the table, his consciousness sinking once again into that perception that connected to the void space—"Next, the Hungry Ghost Bag."

A very ordinary gray burlap sack appeared next to the gloves.

The bag was tied at the top with a worn-out hemp rope. It looked unremarkable and would not have been given a second glance if it were thrown into a garbage dump in the slums.

The Demon Bag's effect: Allows one person to take one serving of food per day; it is non-toxic but bland. The trade-off is unbearable physiological hunger for the next few hours, which can easily lead to overeating. Zhang Su silently recited the settings, deciding to experience the actual quality of this "lifesaving food" beforehand, lest he be let down by its taste or texture at a crucial moment.

He untied the hemp rope at the top of the bag, reached inside to feel around; it felt dry and rough, and seemed empty. But as he thought of "food," something seemed to appear out of thin air at the bottom of the bag. He took it out and placed it on the table:

1. A piece of hard rye bread: about the size of an adult's fist, dark brown in color, and so hard it could be used as a weapon. The surface was covered with coarse bran particles. Zhang Su broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth. The texture was extremely dense, requiring vigorous chewing, and the taste was bland, with only the most primitive wheat aroma, or rather the roughness of the bran, and a barely perceptible saltiness, like something made in the cheapest workshop using inferior flour and seawater.

2. A piece of dried, unidentified salted meat strip: about the length of an index finger, dark red to almost black, hard, and covered in salt crystals. It was difficult to bite into, and the taste was purely salty and dry, with almost no meaty flavor; it was more like scraps of leather that had been thoroughly salted.

3. A small handful of pickled turnips: cut into thin strips and soaked in murky brine with suspicious floating matter.

The color was grayish. Zhang Su picked one up and put it in his mouth. The texture was fairly crisp, but then a strong, earthy, salty and bitter taste exploded in his mouth! The bitterness was very prominent, as if it was not made with refined salt, but with coarse brine scraped directly from the salt mine without any filtration or purification, and the bitterness went straight to his throat.

4. A piece of cheese so hard it hurts your teeth: pale yellow in color, with a dry and cracked surface. The taste is extremely bland, with a faint rancid milk flavor and a chalky texture, completely lacking the richness that cheese should have.

5. A small leather bag filled with clear water: The water is fairly clear, but it has a faint, indescribable taste of old wooden barrels and rust. Once the water is drunk, the leather bag will immediately disappear.

Zhang Su frowned, finished tasting each flavor, and then rinsed his mouth with a large mouthful of sweet water that he had "manifested" from the corner of the cornerstone office.

"Tsk, it really fits the description of 'bland' and 'barely filling'," he commented. "The bread is as hard as a rock, the jerky is so salty it's unbearable, and the cheese is like chalk."

As for the pickled vegetables…” He grimaced, recalling the intense bitterness, “They were definitely made with unfiltered coarse brine; they were so bitter they made you question your existence.”

Most of it... well, except for the pickled vegetables, when you're starving, you can hold your nose and swallow them to fill your stomach.

He shook his head, stuffed the remaining food (mainly the pickled vegetables) back into the cloth bag, tied the bag shut, and put it back into the void.

"Next, the candlelight never ceases."

An old oil lamp with a simple design, a brass base, and a glass shade that was one-third missing appeared on the table.

On the wick, a small cluster of bean-sized, almost transparent, pale white flames burned quietly without flickering, as if frozen in time.

It emitted a faint but clear light, barely illuminating a small area in the center of the desktop.

Zhang Su reached out and approached the cluster of flames. Sure enough, a gentle, soothing warmth enveloped his hand. It wasn't physical heat, but a spiritual comfort, like soaking in warm water when tired, causing his tense nerves to relax involuntarily.

He tried to stare at the pale flame.

At first, I felt comfortable, but after only a few dozen seconds, an irresistible drowsiness crept in, my eyelids became heavy, and my thoughts sluggish, as if they had sunk into thick honey.

He quickly looked away, shook his head, and tried to shake off the exhaustion that had drained his energy.

"The effects are indeed as good as the reputation suggests, a low-level mental comfort and hypnotic tool." Zhang Su concluded, "This thing is definitely the nemesis of insomniacs... or rather, a shortcut to eternal sleep? Using it to hypnotize is too risky, who knows which time you might fall asleep and never wake up again?"

He decisively put away the dangerous oil lamp as well.

“Next… let’s try that mask.” Zhang Su’s mind raced, and a mask with an exaggerated, empty expression, carved from thin, pale wood, appeared on the table—the Mask of the Fool.

Effect: Subtle cognitive interference makes listeners with weak minds or fatigued minds more likely to believe or ignore minor flaws. The cost is that the wearer's thinking becomes dulled and they have a strong urge to talk nonsense and make lame jokes.

Zhang Su picked up the mask and put it on his face.

The mask has a cool touch and fits snugly against the skin.

The moment I put it on, a strange sensation, like a microcurrent passing through my cerebral cortex, came over me.

He felt as if his thoughts were veiled by a thin gauze, becoming somewhat sluggish and dull.

Even stronger is an irresistible urge to speak!

I'm not going to talk about anything serious, but rather I want to say those meaningless, even a little silly, nonsense things, or jokes that I think are very funny but may actually be extremely lame!

"Oh no! I was thinking of going out to find someone to say those things." Alarm bells rang in Zhang Su's mind, his rational mind screaming, "Don't open the door! Don't go out to find anyone! You'll get yourself killed!"

He forcefully suppressed the absurd urge to rush to the door and talk to any crew member or passenger.

But the urge to confide swelled in his chest like a balloon, making him feel suffocated.

Left with no other choice, he took out the ever-burning candle flame from the void, intending to confide in it.

Zhang Su cleared his throat and, facing the quiet oil lamp, spoke in a deliberately low but strange tone imbued with the mask:

"Hey, Little Flame, you know what? I was just... uh, thinking of going to talk to a sailor. But I was afraid if I asked him, 'Why is the sea salty? Is it because mermaids shed too many tears?' he would throw me into the sea to feed the fish! Hahaha!" He couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly, feeling really silly.

“And then there’s more,” he couldn’t stop, “a superhuman walked into the bar and ordered a ‘Gaze from the Abyss’… The bartender said, ‘Sorry, sold out, only ‘Loss of Reason’ is left.’ The superhuman said, ‘Never mind, I need to stay sober today… I’m going to find a mask that tells lame jokes!’ Hahaha!” He slammed his fist on the table, laughing so hard he was doubled over, as if he had told the most brilliant joke in the world. The pale flame that had been put away, of course, remained unresponsive and silent.

After laughing for a while, Zhang Su finally caught his breath and forcibly ripped the mask off his face.

The cool air slightly cleared his feverish mind, but the lingering sluggishness and intense embarrassment... mainly stemmed from his own foolish grin at the oil lamp, which made his cheeks burn.

"Phew... This damn mask! The effect wasn't that strong, but the side effects were immediate! I almost really turned into a clown!" He threw the mask back into the void with lingering fear.

Finally, he took out the last extraordinary item given to him by the Qiu family—the Bloodthirsty Dagger.

A rusty, old-fashioned dagger with a dark hardwood handle wrapped with a worn leather cord and a dull obsidian inlaid at the end.

It exudes a cold and eerie aura.

Its effect is to scratch the target, causing it to weaken rapidly (similar to severe anemia). The cost is that the user experiences intense thirst, may have the urge to suck on the wound, and may also become anemic due to overuse.

Zhang Su picked up the dagger; the cold touch and the faint sharpness peeking through the rust made his skin tighten slightly.

He hesitated, imagining the scene of using it to cut the skin on his arm...

"Hiss..." He gasped, immediately putting the dagger down. "Forget it, cutting myself would hurt too much! What if I lose control and actually lick the wound... Ugh!" The thought made him uncomfortable. "And what if I lose control and weaken myself too? That would be too dangerous. I won't try it!"

He put the dagger away, let out a long sigh of relief, and completed the testing of the five items.

Then, he mentally ranked them by their practicality:

Shadow Gloves: "The most useful right now! It reduces your presence, making it a godsend for infiltration, tracking, and avoiding trouble! Although your hands will go numb, you can use it carefully."

Hungry Ghost Bag: "Ranked second! It can save lives in critical moments; being hungry is better than starving to death. The only downside is that the feeling of being possessed by a hungry ghost is a bit unpleasant, and the taste... well, it's alright, except for the bitter pickled vegetables."

Bloodthirsty Dagger and Unquenchable Candle: "Tied to the third tier. A dagger, if used well, can be used to ambush people. Its weakening effect should also be effective against superhumans, but it requires close combat, and the cost and risk are not small. The candle... is good for hypnosis and soothing, but the risk of 'not waking up' is too frightening. I dare not use it unless absolutely necessary."

The Deceitful Mask: "Bottom of the pack! Pure useless! That tiny bit of interference effect is completely pointless, but the side effects are incredibly strong, turning you into a chatterbox and an idiot! Unless I ever have a moment of desperation and decide to go on stage and perform as a clown, this thing will forever remain gathering dust in the void!"

Volume 1: Chapter 33: The Incomplete Path

After thinking for a while, Zhang Su called on Yuan Shu again, as he had a new question.

"[Director, I'm here.]" The inorganic voice of the Source Core responded immediately, like the deep hum of the foundation itself.

“Analyze these five items. How were they formed? Were they artificially infused with extraordinary power? Or... did some extraordinary essence fuse with these mortal objects? For example, the 'characteristics' left behind by an extraordinary person after death?”

[Scanning...] Yuan Shu's voice was completely flat. Just three seconds later, that cold voice rang out again:

Analysis complete. The formation mechanism of the target items (Bloodthirsty Dagger, Unquenchable Candle, Shadow-Stealing Gloves, Hungry Ghost Bag, Deceitful Mask) has been determined: not infused by external force. Their core is confirmed to be a product of deep fusion between 'extraordinary characteristic' fragments and the basic material carrier.

[Key Decision: All the fused extraordinary characteristics belong to the 'remnant path'.]

[Status Description: 'Remnant Path' characteristic; its power is inherently incomplete, distorted, and unstable, far inferior to creations of the same sequence formed by the 'Full Path' characteristic.]

"The Path of Desolation?" Zhang Su frowned slightly. The term carried an ominous sense of decay, instantly grabbing his attention. He knew that there was more esoteric knowledge for him to learn.

“Explain in detail, Genshu. What is ‘remnant path’? What is the fundamental difference between it and ‘full path’? I need to fully understand this concept.”

[Definition Explanation: The Distinction Between Paths - 'The Whole Path' and 'The Broken Path'] Yuan Shu's voice seemed to carry a deeper resonance, as if he were deciphering an ancient taboo stone tablet.

1. 'Full route' (complete path):

The anchor of existence is firm: its 'definition' (the foundation of existence, the source of power, the secret of advancement) is clear, complete, and indelible. Like a great river flowing from its source to the ocean, the source of its living water is inexhaustible, and the riverbed is clearly discernible.

Unbroken lineage: Typically possesses a clear and traceable origin (ancestor, true god, embodiment of law) and a relatively complete system of inheritance (potion recipes, rituals, symbolic symbols). Its power system possesses internal logic and growth potential.

Pure Power (relative): Although each has its own costs and risks, its power manifestation is closer to the essence of the path, with huge potential and the ability to climb to the higher sequence.

Symbolism: Like a timeless recipe written by a master chef with a complete family lineage, clear lineage, and unparalleled skill. The ingredients, cooking time, and procedures are all complete. Later generations follow the recipe, and although the results may vary due to differences in their abilities, they can ultimately reproduce its essence and have the potential to innovate.

2. 'Incomplete path' (a flawed or incomplete route):

The foundation of existence has collapsed: its 'definition' has suffered irreversible damage, loss, or has been forcibly distorted and polluted by higher beings. It is like a dead-end river with its source dried up, its channel silted up, and its flow chaotic.

The lineage has been severed/polluted: the source has vanished without a trace, or has become taboo. The original, complete path to advancement (especially the higher-level sequences) has been completely lost or corrupted and distorted. Later generations can only piece together incomplete and erroneous 'pseudo-recipes' by excavating relics, analyzing the remains of those who went out of control, or conducting dangerous experiments.

Distorted and Weak Power: The power gained through condensing traits or advancing in rank is inherently distorted, unstable, and has an extremely low ceiling. It's like forcibly cooking with a broken recipe and expired, spoiled ingredients—it may fill the stomach, but the taste is bizarre, and it may even contain deadly poison (a huge side effect). Its power manifestation often deviates from the core of the original path, becoming strange, weak, and difficult to control.

Advancement Shackles: For those who transcend the path of rebirth, even with exceptional talent and extraordinary opportunities, their limits are usually locked at Sequence 7. Advancement methods at Sequence 6 and above, along with their corresponding 'definitions,' have long since vanished into the dustbin of history or been deliberately erased by higher beings, becoming a precipice of despair. Those who can reach Sequence 7 are already "relatively complete" on the path of rebirth, extremely rare.

The cost is severe: due to its flawed and distorted foundation, the side effects of its flawed nature are often more severe, bizarre, and difficult to avoid.

After hearing the explanation, Zhang Su immediately entered a state of deep thought.

Yuan Shu uses the metaphors of a "river of dead ends" and a "spoiled recipe" to coldly and precisely depict the despairing scene of the "path of ruin"—a dead end destined to lead to a dead end, full of thorns and poisonous miasma. In contrast, the "path of success" represents the possibility of still climbing to the summit, a relatively "orthodox" and "bright" road, although equally dangerous.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Zhang Su spoke again, his curiosity piqued: "Then, Yuan Shu, can you analyze the 'residual path' characteristics contained in these five items, specifically which path they belong to, and can you also analyze the sequence names?"

"It can be analyzed, Director," Yuan Shu replied.

[Note: The names "remnant paths" mostly originate from the intuitive descriptions of their distorted appearance by later researchers or those who encountered them, or from far-fetched associations based on fragmentary information obtained from excavated relics. Their names are chaotic, overlapping, and lack consistency, and most cannot be traced back to their true, complete origins. To reduce confusion, only two relatively common appellations are provided for each path for cognitive anchoring.]

“Okay, that works. Let’s briefly learn about their ‘origins’.” Zhang Su nodded.

[Analysis Report: The Five Items' Residual Path Sequence]

【1. The Deceitful Mask (Sequence 10 - The Lower Path):】

The term is used as a euphemism for "a person who is delirious" or "a chatterbox."