The question of how to actually use the Fortification Gem—
Feng Qi had spent half a day testing it.
His conclusion: the enhancement effects of the gem depended on the material of the weapon or item it was embedded into. The stronger the material, the greater the enhancement.
But there was one really vague factor about the gem.
That was the direction of the enhancement.
For example, when it enhanced a weapon or piece of equipment, the gem would boost things like sharpness or durability—essentially just strengthening the physical properties of the material.
But when embedded into a tablet, it had somehow boosted the tablet's overall processing power.
That clearly went beyond just upgrading the material—it had even improved the installed software.
That didn't make any logical sense.
It was like the direction of the enhancement was somehow influenced by the user's own perception.
In other words, whatever function the user believed the item was meant for, that's the direction the Fortification Gem would go—not just physical durability or toughness or other standard attributes.
Totally illogical.
[Bro, are you seriously trying to apply logic to a miracle item?]
Hearing that snark from the narrator, Feng Qi couldn't help but sweat a little.
Come to think of it, the narrator was right. Miracle items were never about logic.
There were no weak miracle items—only weak miracle users.
Even the most seemingly useless miracle, in the hands of the right person, could become terrifyingly powerful.
Multiple timelines had already proved this to be true.
Like the True God Bracelet, or the Elf King's Life Furnace, for example.
If this world were a game, miracle artifacts scattered around would be like cheat codes—completely breaking the rules of the system and operating outside the game's normal logic.
Like the first miracle item he'd encountered: the bloodstone.
Even just a broken piece of it had violated the law of energy conservation by endlessly generating smaller bloodstones without losing any mass. That effect didn't stop even inside an energy vacuum lab.
Every miracle item seemed to run on its own rules—defying the world's natural order.
Thinking about this, Feng Qi's mind drifted to Little Black.
By now, he had a clear grasp of Little Black's background. Existing intel confirmed that Little Black's appearance was directly linked to Mo.
He had briefly spoken with Mo.
At the time, when he'd asked about Little Black's origin, Mo had replied that he merely "assembled" Little Black—but didn't actually create it. He even referred to Little Black as a "rule composite."
Now, tying that to miracle items being rule-based anomalies, Feng Qi couldn't help but wonder if Little Black was actually a fusion of multiple miracles.
But the real answer—only Mo knew.
Right now, Feng Qi was still far from strong enough to confront Mo and earn a conversation as equals.
Thinking of Mo reminded him of something else.
In a previous timeline, he had managed to delay the destruction of the human world and personally witnessed the process of the Mo Moon devouring the sun.
That memory was still vivid.
The world had split into two halves—on one side, the sun blazed overhead; on the other, the blood-colored Mo Moon hung in the sky.
Two worlds, sharply divided, with a rippling, twisting spatial rift between them.
He'd seen countless Domain factions appear and join the battle against Mu Yue. The Mo Moon had then overwhelmed the sun and eventually swallowed the entire world.
He had seen that kind of scene twice.
But in the timelines that followed, that apocalyptic collapse never showed up again.
That was strange.
Logically, humanity's strength was growing with each timeline. So the apocalypse should've been pushed even further back, not erased entirely.
Fiddling with the wristwatch embedded with the Fortification Gem, Feng Qi sank into thought, analyzing what exactly had changed in those two altered futures.
Reviewing the memory logs, he quickly found the pattern.
In both timelines where he'd seen the end-of-world collapse, he had done the same thing: he had targeted the Institute of Technological Research.
And Mo happened to be in that institute.
Clearly, his actions had disrupted some part of Mo's setup—slowing down Mo's plan to consume the human world.
But what exactly had he done?
That, he didn't know.
Back then, his sacrifice timelines didn't give him much access to detailed historical records.
That time, the Crimson Research Institute had to retreat underground early on and cut off contact with the outside world. He didn't have the long lifespan to observe everything. There were also plenty of hidden Domain factions in Star City, and the harsh environment made it impossible for him to collect a large amount of useful historical data.
Now, one thing was clear.
Choosing the route of targeting the Institute of Technological Research could help delay Mo's plan to devour the human world.
But there were too many variables in that timeline.
Behind Mo was Hei Ying. Behind Hei Ying was Hei Xuan. And Hei Xuan was tied to the Psionic Race from the ancestral land.
Maybe it was the participation of Tiger Soul Research Institute (the old Mystery faction) in the operations against the Technological Research Institute that disrupted Mo's plans.
Maybe the move against the Institute revealed Hei Xuan's plan to the Psionic Race, and they stepped in to sabotage it. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
Too many unknowns. The intel available couldn't provide a clear answer.
He didn't plan to go after Mo just yet.
After all, Mo's early-game setup was far too stable. With humanity's current strength, they had no way to go up against those Domain powerhouses who had signed task contracts with Mo.
To defeat Mo, humanity first needed enough strength.
Having understood why he couldn't witness another apocalyptic collapse scene, Feng Qi didn't dwell too much on the deeper issues.
He pried off the reinforcement gem embedded in the watch and casually tossed it forward.
The now-purple gem streaked through the air as a stream of light, traveled about twenty meters, then curved midair and returned to him. The moment it touched his body, it automatically merged back into his spiritual sea, returning to the fourth talent track.
That confirmed it—this reinforcement gem was now bound to him.
Even if discarded, it would automatically return. It couldn't be thrown away.
[Just from this alone, doesn't it feel even more like a game, Feng Qi the player?]
"If this world is a game, then what are you? A tutorial system?"
[I'm your daddy.]
Feng Qi: …
...
With the tests done, Feng Qi left the training room and headed straight to the Crimson Research Institute's blood bank.
Lately, he often visited the blood bank to draw blood.
The next future timeline he planned to choose was the Faith Growth Route. Blood was a crucial component in crafting faith statues, and it was also one of the core elements in that route.
So, he had to supply a huge amount of blood.
Taking advantage of this recovery period after returning, he planned to boost Crimson's blood reserves through regular donations.
In the previous timeline, he'd struggled to meet the blood volume required for making those faith statues.
There simply hadn't been enough stored blood to handle large-scale statue production.
And this blood had to last through fifteen hundred years.
Early statues would inevitably degrade later on, so additional blood reserves were needed to replace or maintain them over time.
But in this dream of the future, he had gained a talent ability: Blood Generation.
The trait allowed him to efficiently convert internal energy into blood.
With that ability, his donation efficiency had increased tremendously.
On the way to the blood bank, a figure in Crimson Institute uniform and glasses came running up from the hallway corner. Stopping in front of him, the man spoke respectfully:
"There's news from Winterfell City."
Hearing that, Feng Qi stopped in his tracks and nodded.
"Take me there."
With that, he followed the staff member to the Intelligence Room of the Crimson Research Institute.
Once inside, his view expanded.
This was a room over a thousand square meters in size, filled with various communication devices used to connect with other cities.
At the center sat a row of Crimson Institute communication officers wearing headsets, busily working. In front of them were two large, joined display screens and a control console.
This was the communication hub that Crimson Research Institute used to coordinate with external institutions.
For example, if Crimson needed to contact the Technological Research Institute to order or customize equipment, they would do it from here.
Communicating with Crimson squads dispatched outside also went through this room.
Feng Qi glanced at the screen.
There stood a familiar burly middle-aged man in specialized armor. A dagger was strapped to his right forearm, and a natural air of killing intent lingered in his gaze.
His name was Gu Ke, the former commander of the Brain Recovery Squad from a previous sacrifice timeline.
This time, the investigation into the Sword Clan in Winterfell City was under his charge.
"Uncle Gu."
Standing before the console, Feng Qi greeted him on screen.
Gu Ke gave a firm nod, then began to speak.
"I'll update you on the situation in Winterfell City. Over the past few days, we've entered the city under the name of the Crimson Research Institute. Our first move was to head to the restricted mining zone, using the excuse of seeking mineral resources to make contact with local parties… Based on our investigation so far, the situation in Winterfell is extremely chaotic. Those Sword Clan members who held top positions have all vacated their posts and are no longer handling any affairs."
"From that alone, it's highly likely something happened to Jian Ji. But we haven't been able to dig deeper. We'll have to keep hiding in the city and wait for a better opportunity."
After hearing Gu Ke's update, Feng Qi nodded.
"If you really can't get further in your investigation, I'll head to Winterfell myself. I've got a lot of stealth skills at my disposal—enough to dig deeper into what's really going on there. If Jian Ji is dead, then there's no need to let the Sword Clan continue to exist. Erasing them in the current timeline would align with the goal I worked toward in the previous sacrifice line."
Gu Ke nodded in agreement.
"Give me a few more days. If we can't dig anything up, then you can come in person. I'll arrange the handoff when you arrive."
Halfway through speaking, Gu Ke suddenly recalled something and changed his tone.
"Right—there's another reason I suspect Jian Ji is already dead. Another faction that's been hiding in Winterfell has become really active lately. That group is called the Shield Scale Clan. The way they've been moving seems to suggest that Jian Ji, the backbone of the Sword Clan, is already gone."
"Shield Scale Clan?"
Hearing the name, Feng Qi paused, then remembered there was indeed such a faction in Winterfell.
But in history, their presence was almost nonexistent.
Though said to be one of the two hidden factions in Winterfell, they couldn't compare to the Sword Clan in any meaningful way.
The Shield Scale warriors could go toe-to-toe with Sword Clan fighters and not fall behind. But as long as Jian Ji was alive, they stood no chance of defeating the Sword Clan.
A Sword Clan with Jian Ji and one without Jian Ji were two entirely different concepts.
Even if the Shield Scale Clan grew a hundred times stronger, they still wouldn't stand a chance against Jian Ji.
They hadn't been wiped out before simply because Jian Ji never saw them as worth the effort. And keeping them around helped maintain a steady resource supply. He believed Winterfell needed to remain stable, so the plan to eliminate the Shield Scale Clan was shelved.
If Jian Ji had ever decided to strike, he wouldn't even need to activate the Million Sword Spirit Array. He could've wiped them out easily.
The most important detail was that the Shield Scale Clan was actually part of Jian Ji's Million Sword Spirit Array plan.
Jian Ji's sword momentum wasn't something you could just copy. The Shield Scale Clan clearly didn't understand the hidden risks and ended up becoming sacrificial offerings.
After his conversation with Gu Ke, Feng Qi had a good grasp of the surface-level situation in Winterfell. He decided to give Gu Ke a few more days. If no concrete info about Jian Ji came through, then he would go investigate himself.
Realistically, based on the intel, it was already likely that Jian Ji was dead.
But without seeing the body, it was impossible to make a definitive judgment.
Traveling to Winterfell in the current reality did carry some risk—but it was minimal.
It's not like he was going there to fight Jian Ji head-on.
Jian Ji wouldn't activate the Million Sword Spirit Array just for him.
With Feng Qi's current strength, as long as Jian Ji didn't activate that formation, he could hold his own and retreat safely if needed.
He was just going to investigate, not fight to the death.
If Jian Ji was confirmed dead, then he'd wipe out the Sword Clan in passing. If not, and Jian Ji turned out to be alive, he'd just pull a move like Mu Yue did in her first encounter with Jian Ji—fight, then retreat at will.
After rationally analyzing the potential risk, Feng Qi felt there was no problem with going to Winterfell himself.
But whether or not he actually needed to go would depend on Gu Ke's next report.
With that, Feng Qi left the Intelligence Communications Room.
Since he no longer had the habit of carrying his phone, he often missed updates. This time, he went straight back to his room and stuffed the phone into his pocket.
The moment he stepped out, a call came in from Wei Wei:
"Lin Ran's memory implantation surgery is complete. He's crying really hard right now. As his best bro, don't you think you should come comfort him?"
"I'm on my way."
Feng Qi ended the call, completely calm.
Lin Ran's reaction didn't surprise him at all.
He knew exactly how deeply Lin Ran loved Yin Ling. If it hadn't been for that, why would he have insisted on keeping such painful memories?
Implanting that memory—especially the part where Yin Ling died—clearly broke Lin Ran emotionally.
Good thing was, all those regrets could now be made up for with the alliance between the human race and the Silver Moon Clan. There'd be plenty of sweetness in the future.
What Lin Ran really needed to worry about now was how to raise his status at home.
Right then, the narrator's voice popped up in his head:
[I'm curious about something.]
"What?"
[Do you think humans and Silver Moon Clan members have reproductive isolation? If they do, doesn't that mean the Lin family line ends here?]
Feng Qi: …
The narrator's question was so twisted, Feng Qi didn't even know how to respond.
Because he'd never even considered it.