The golden cascade of uncorrupted geographical data pulsing from the terminal screen reflected in Lin Fengās bottomless eyes, illuminating the cold, damp stone faces of the Great Archive Vault. The sheer velocity of the scrolling system readouts would have left a high-level Central Bureau analyst completely disoriented, but to a regressed soul, the prehistoric code was an absolute book.
The Mount Tai Sector 02 data loop is perfectly synchronized with my internal layout,
Lin Feng calculated, his fingers brushing lightly against the cold obsidian casing of the console.
The legacy clans think the coming primary grand rifts are localized phenomena that can be cordoned off with high-voltage wire and automated turrets. They have no concept that the five sanctuaries are connected beneath the continental plate like an intricate geometric network.
"Student Lin."
The sharp, disciplined voice of Instructor Meng cut through the low, mechanical humming of the vault's internal coolant pumps. She had stepped past the threshold of the secondary security divider, her posture completely rigid, her eyes tightly fixed on the golden script illuminating Lin Feng's porcelain-smooth face.
"Director-General Sun has just finalized the deployment logs for Sector 01's perimeter," she stated, her severe expression masking a hidden layer of institutional awe. "The Central Core branch of the Zhao Clan attempted to file an emergency litigation block through the regulatory courts to reclaim their seized server access keys. The Bureau didn't just deny the motionāGeneral Sun assigned a full heavy mechanized division to permanently occupy their distribution offices."
A cold, undefeated smile touched Lin Fengās lips as he smoothly deactivated the terminal. The golden script vanished instantly, returning the obsidian console to a calm, dead black before the room's backup monitoring systems could log the precise coordinates of the Mount Tai inheritance.
"The Zhao family is trying to fight an administrative war using dead laws, Instructor," Lin Feng said softly, his voice carrying an unhurried spatial resonance that caused the titanium reinforcement bars in the ceiling to vibrate in unison. "When the sky splits open seventy-two hours from now, a judicial decree won't hold back the fire. General Sun knows that. That's why his tanks are parked on their ledgers."
Instructor Meng stepped back slightly, her hands smoothing the fabric of her dark crimson tunic. As a Stage 8 Flesh Refinement master who had spent decades climbing the institutional ladder of the capital, she had trained hundreds of young legacy geniuses. She had seen Zhao Mingās calculated arrogance and the manic, resource-backed progression of the clan heirs.
But the youth standing before her didn't fit into any known category. He had no family lineage, no private tutors, and no gene-stripping enhancements. Yet, his breathing didn't alter by a single hertz under the crushing subterranean pressure of the bedrock vault, and his eyes carried an absolute, vacant weight that made the Academy's ancient text tablets look small.
"Your schedule for the Advanced Special Section has been completely isolated, Student Lin," she said, her voice dropping into a quiet, secure register. "The morning physical review and collective combat drills have been suspended for your file. General Sun has designated your quarters in Dormitory Block D as a sovereign strategic zone. No academic evaluator or corporate observer is permitted to cross your threshold without a three-star military clearance."
"A clean board," Lin Feng murmured, slinging his worn utility backpack over his right shoulder.
He walked past her with a slow, unremarkable gait, looking exactly like the quiet provincial undergraduate the registry logs claimed he was. But as his boot touched the primary hydraulic exit landing, his
Qi Circulation ChannelingāStage 1
senses instantly caught a new, high-frequency energetic ripple cutting through the upper campus grid.
It wasn't the volatile, thermal signature of an Abyssal Maw-Beast, nor was it the heavy, mechanical torque of the
Iron-Core Executioners
.
It was a cold, perfectly silent current of refined spiritual windāa current that moved through the metallic mist of the capital with the effortless fluidity of a phantom.
A true legacy vanguard from the hidden sanctuaries,
Lin Feng analyzed, his pulse remaining a flat sixty beats per minute behind his hoodie.
The capital's core corporations have officially run out of disposable hounds. They are drawing their true bloodlines onto the table ahead of schedule.
He stepped into the rising morning fog of the courtyard, his silhouette instantly vanishing from the database ledger as the countdown to the primary grand rifts continued to bleed away.