Chapter 150 In the Name of the System
The black substance was still spreading, yet Chen Chang'an suddenly entered a strange calm.
For a long time, a question had always lingered in his mind—
According to the system's sign-in rules, each day he could gain anywhere from 1 to 100 years of cultivation. If he took the midpoint, 50 years, and calculated: he had lived in this world for 686 years, 365 days per year. In theory, his total cultivation should be:
50 × 686 × 365 = 12,519,500 years.
Even roughly cut, it would still be over 12,000,000 years of cultivation!
Yet the cultivation he could actually sense and mobilize was far below this number.
Even using his own training speed as a reference, he estimated his current cultivation was no more than 3,000 years.
Then came the question—
Where had the remaining 12,000,000 years of cultivation gone?
This question had flashed through his mind countless times but had never been answered.
Until this moment—when the tentacle summoned by Hong Chenji used the law of time to erode his cultivation, when his true essence ebbed like the tide—he finally glimpsed a thread of truth.
Just as his cultivation was about to drop below a certain critical point—
[Ding—]
The system's prompt suddenly rang in his mind, cold and mechanical:
"Detected host's apparent cultivation drastically decreasing. Temporarily opening host's access to backup cultivation pool authority.
Warning: at host's current realm, the backup cultivation pool can only be controlled for 5 minutes, or there is risk of body rupture.
Backup cultivation pool: current cultivation: 12,621,331 years (calculated by host's own cultivation speed)."
Chen Chang'an's pupils contracted sharply!
12,621,331 years!
This number almost exactly matched his previous calculation!
So that was it…
The cultivation gained from daily sign-ins had not disappeared into nothingness but had been quietly stored by the system in a "backup cultivation pool" he had never known about!
No wonder…
No wonder he had always felt his cultivation speed didn't match what he received from sign-ins. No wonder he sometimes sensed an unfathomable power inside himself but could never truly reach it…
Everything now had an explanation.
At this moment, the system had temporarily opened the authority, allowing him to take control of this vast starry-sea-like reserve of cultivation.
But the warning was clear—at his current realm, he could only wield it for 5 minutes.
5 minutes…
12,000,000 years of cultivation condensed into just 5 minutes!
System prompt:
"Begin taking control of backup cultivation pool? [Yes/No]"
Chen Chang'an slowly raised his head, looking at the still-laughing Hong Chenji and the massive tentacle reaching from the void.
[Yes]
[Backup cultivation pool countdown: 00:04:59]
The next second—
Boom!
It was as though billions of volcanoes erupted within his body at once!
12,621,331 years of vast cultivation burst forth like a heavenly river breaking its banks. Every drop of true essence was as heavy as a mountain; every meridian transformed into a resplendent galaxy.
Under the scour of this power, his bones rang like clashing jade, and in his blood no longer flowed red, but molten, golden brilliance.
In that instant, Chen Chang'an seemed to hear the system's deafening roar—
"Now, tell me—
What is my name?!
LOOK INTO MY EYES—
Tell me—
What the hell is my goddamn name?!"
Chen Chang'an's pupils turned completely golden.
In that instant, he suddenly understood—though he had not yet touched the profound laws above the Saint Realm, when power accumulated to such a terrifying degree, quantitative change had already sparked qualitative transformation—
Power, in its purest extreme, was itself a law!
The Law of Strength!
"Crack!"
He reversed his hand and seized the black tentacle that was corroding him.
Those viscous substances, strong enough to erode time itself, now evaporated instantly under absolute power, like dew beneath the scorching sun.
Hong Chenji's expression froze—his mouth gaped wide enough to fit a fist, and the countless eyes across his body bulged as though about to burst from their sockets.
But when he realized what Chen Chang'an was doing, he suddenly bent over laughing, all his eyes squinting shut into slits. "Hahaha! I don't know what method you used, but to survive before the Supreme is already enough to boast. From your appearance—
Could it be you actually think you can harm the Supreme?"
Chen Chang'an ignored him and kept exerting strength.
Tentacle: "..."
Hong Chenji: "Don't waste your effort, that belongs to the Supreme—"
"Rip—!"
A grating tear split the sky.
Tentacle: "???"
Hong Chenji: "???"
Chen Chang'an held half of the mountainous, thrashing tentacle in his arms. "Ah, it broke."
Impossible—
This thought blazed through Hong Chenji's mind, his twisted face full of horror at his shattered understanding.
But the next moment—
"Ahhhhhh—!!!"
A scream tore apart the clouds for a hundred miles.
In Hong Chenji's convulsing gaze, that tentacle said to originate from the Supreme's very body was truly severed. From the break gushed not blood, but collapsing galaxies, each droplet of black ichor corroding the void into miniature black holes.
"Presumptuous!"
A solemn roar rang out from the depths of the void.
The instant that voice resounded, heaven and earth shook violently. The mountains heaved like waves of wheat, and every blade of grass bent toward the source of the sound.
Chen Chang'an instead burst into wild laughter.
His laughter sent golden ripples sweeping outward, cracking space itself like fractured glass. Facing the supreme existence in the void, he swung his fist straight toward the sound—
"Boom!"
The punch unleashed not mere force but a torrent of strength spanning heaven and earth! The space along its path tore like fragile rice paper, revealing behind it the prismatic chaos currents. At the end of the punch's arc, a half-blurred giant shadow tried desperately to evade, but still the shockwave struck it.
"Ugh—ah!"
The majestic voice turned into a cry of pain.
The void fissure violently shrank like a wounded beast retreating to its den, vanishing in the blink of an eye without a trace.
The winds stilled, the clouds froze.
Chen Chang'an's body was wrapped in tangible true essence. The dense golden-red energy distorted space for a thousand feet around, making him appear as though he stood inside a warped mirror.
"This… is this an Immortal Venerable?" Hong Chenji collapsed in the pool of corrosive blood he had created, his shattered cyclopean eye trembling uncontrollably. "No… even an Immortal Venerable couldn't…"
His voice broke from sheer terror. "What kind of monster is this?!"
High above, Chen Chang'an watched the severed tentacle crumble into ashes in the air.
Then he turned suddenly, glaring down at the trembling Hong Chenji.
Their eyes met—
The demon god who moments ago laughed with hands on his hips now looked pitiful, helpless, small…
And even a little aggrieved.
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