Chapter Twenty-Four: Severing Ties

Fan Bei continued reading his book, "The Latest Architectural Designs for Defense Against Evil Spirits." The volume was substantial, and on the inside back cover, it thoughtfully included a newly updated map of the distribution of malevolent entities, carefully folded for convenience. He had already perused part of it before, but had been interrupted by Da Bai and its companions; now he returned to his reading.

The map spanned a thousand kilometers both east to west and south to north, marking the terrain with precision. Red points indicated evil nests; yellow and green points showed known shelters and settlements. The shelters were established projects from earlier times, while the settlements had been constructed using new technology developed within the past five years.

“To build a truly safe refuge, one must understand the distribution of nearby evil entities—or, as some say, unknown spiritual beings—and also attempt to predict how that distribution might change in the future. Without this foresight, even the best designs will yield only half the desired results.”

This note beneath the map resonated deeply with Fan Bei. It was just like their own shelter: no sooner had it been built than a nest of evil spirits appeared nearby—who could they possibly complain to? It wasn’t anyone’s fault; rather, it was the absence of modern predictive technology at the time, a consequence of the era, not individual negligence.

The map retained latitude and longitude markers, and Fan Bei, well-versed in their use, quickly located his own shelter—a valley in the western mountains on the map. This range was known as the TH Mountains and had been recorded in ancient times as a place “full of valleys, where the landless poor went to cultivate.” There, a yellow dot marked Shelter 364, with a red dot pressed close beside it, annotated: “Gathering place of minor evil entities.”

Yes, it was precisely such a group of minor evil entities that had whittled down the inhabitants of this small shelter of over three hundred souls until only he remained.

He soon finished studying the entire map—a testament to the advances of modern civilization, for even without setting foot outside, one could gain a broad understanding of the surrounding situation.

The nearest settlement to his refuge lay to the northeast: Copper Fortress, a domain controlled by Lang Sheng, some 143 kilometers away in a straight line. This was the one with which he was most familiar, for it was there that the benevolent system he had arranged was in operation.

He had already sketched out his plans for this place in the “Private Diary Page” of the “Father of Systems,” so he set it aside for now.

The second closest was a much larger settlement to the southeast called “Silver City.” The green marker on the map spanned a wider area than Copper Fortress, indicating its greater size. Measuring the distance, it was more than three hundred kilometers from his Shelter 364.

Fan Bei immediately recalled another radio signal he had received—faint and intermittent, far weaker than the one from Copper Fortress. Lang Sheng had mentioned them before, though he called it “Silver City” as a shortened form.

To hear him tell it, Silver City was a wicked place, where people were seized as slaves and forced trades were the norm.

It was important to note that Lang Sheng had made these remarks after binding himself to the benevolent system; the credibility was therefore high, for slandering others without evidence was a grave violation of the system’s principles—no one would risk deactivating the system for such a lie.

Fan Bei was glad he hadn’t contacted anyone from that city. Still, by his reckoning, it wouldn't be long before they came knocking on their own. Even if the city’s leaders saw no value in his meager possessions, there would always be underlings willing to take a chance—after all, a “minor evil entity gathering place” was hardly enough to deter everyone.

These were the two nearest survivor settlements; the others were much farther away—five or six hundred, even seven or eight hundred kilometers—and scattered besides. Given the state of the roads, there was little cause for concern at present.

As for evil nests, perhaps because he himself was near one, there were no other red dots within a hundred kilometers. However, due east of Copper Fortress, more than two hundred kilometers away, a large red dot loomed, accompanied by a warning: “Suspected Silver-class Nest—Keep Away!”

After carefully studying the map, and now with a better grasp of his surroundings, Fan Bei turned his attention to the practical content within the book.

This so-called “latest architectural design” was indeed impressive. First, it offered precise analysis and forecasting of evil entity distribution, enabling settlements to be established in relatively safe areas. Second, it employed the latest technology so that, with only a tenth of the gold, silver, and copper previously required, fully enclosed settlements could be built with two to five times the original defensive capability.

This meant that with limited resources, more settlements could be constructed, accommodating a larger population.

According to the book, a fully equipped settlement would include air circulation systems, ecological agriculture, water recycling, necessary factories, and more—all powered by the latest fission reactors for greater endurance.

One should not think that living atop a fission reactor was so perilous; even during peacetime, thousands lived aboard nuclear-powered carriers every day. Faced with the threat of the unknown, people would rather brave a known risk.

The settlement thus became a nearly closed ecosystem, keeping evil entities entirely at bay and vastly improving resistance to the tide of malevolent forces. At the very least, ordinary people living within would no longer succumb to madness and death from such attacks.

Of course, the ecosystem could not be completely sealed. It required regular ventilation, material exchange with the outside, and trade—the diversity of resources and specialties made complete isolation impossible.

Fan Bei read on, heart surging with excitement, turning page after page until he reached the end, where he found an “Editor’s Note” that he couldn’t help but read aloud in a low voice:

“War is the cradle of technological leaps. What makes us human is our enduring wisdom to overcome adversity and survive in new environments. This has always been so, and will remain so. Humanity may one day perish, but it will not be in our generation! Salute to all the unnamed workers striving in their posts.”

He was still a little moved when a faint “humph” reached his ears. At first, he took no notice, but soon he felt a wave of dizziness and ringing in his ears.

Fan Bei nearly called upon the spiritual reserves stored in the “Father of Systems” to help, but in a flash of understanding, he resisted, simply collapsing sideways onto the sofa.

“Master, what’s wrong? Wake up!” Da Bai barked, running over and shaking Fan Bei with its furry front paws.

Fan Bei managed a weak wave of his hand, signaling that he was not in serious danger.

Da Bai set him down and immediately spun around, barking furiously at the little white wooden dog.

“Xiao Bai! You rascal—how could you treat my master like that? I’m cutting you off!”

“It was he who said he wanted to communicate with me directly. I merely gave a single ‘humph’ to show my disapproval of his words, and he couldn’t even withstand that. Is that really my fault?” retorted the little white wooden dog in Da Bai’s mind.

Da Bai was momentarily speechless, sulking off to the side to play with its iron egg, treating the once-cherished wooden dog as if it were mere scrap, no longer even offering to show it the book.

Seeing this, the little white wooden dog, so righteous a moment ago, now felt a pang of panic. If this system-bound dog—its only reliable channel of communication—truly cut ties, it might have to wait decades, centuries, or even millennia for another chance. Its grand plan, its ultimate goal, might die before it ever began.

It had tried communicating with humans before, hoping to set its plan in motion, but each one who heard its voice went mad and perished. Though its power was weak, its essence was such that ordinary human minds simply could not endure direct contact.

The reason for its abrupt action just now was twofold: to mock the editor’s self-important words, and to confirm whether this dog’s master was truly as useless as he appeared.

If he truly were so feeble, how could he have survived here alone, and how could he remain so unfazed by its presence?

Now it appeared that he could withstand a single “humph,” suffering only brief dizziness and recovering quickly—his mental strength was indeed far above average, perhaps twice as strong as most, but no more than that.

So, he was one of humanity’s spiritual outliers—those with innately powerful minds who excelled at mental cultivation. That was the source of his composure and confidence, both now and in the future, that he would never be cowed by such a weak spiritual being.

How laughable! A mortal is still a mortal. He had no inkling of the nobility and greatness he now faced!

By now, surely this fellow knew the proper manner in which to engage with such a being.

But before that, it would have to placate this silly dog—couldn’t risk a real falling out.

“Da Bai, I just remembered something really fun…”

Da Bai continued playing with its iron egg, but its ears perked up at once.