First and foremost, the biggest gain was the progress bar. On his wristwatch, the mark at the one o’clock position was now completely filled with dazzling gold, saturated to the brim and about to overflow.

Through Ji Jue’s relentless grinding, the progress had already reached over seventy percent in just a month. But now, after fully digesting the experience pack from the furnace, the progress bar had been completely blown past its limit. If Ji Jue didn’t lack a matrix and the blessing of the Supreme Benevolence, he would have already advanced by now.

Fortunately, reality wasn’t some garbage gacha game. The excess experience points hadn’t gone to waste either. All the insights and changes had already been fully integrated into Ji Jue’s abilities and soul.

No one said that once level 1 was maxed, you had to move to level 2 immediately. In fact, when Chosen Ones had the option, the ones at lower levels often tried to refine their foundational skills as much as possible before advancing, pushing themselves until their abilities could no longer improve further. This was done to maximize their overall stats.

Professor Ye and Ms. Wen had reminded him to do this countless times. Every bit of advantage gained during the Resonance Realm would amplify exponentially during the realms of Metamorphosis, Rebirth, and Transcendence.

These days, independent Chosen Ones were looked down upon by major organizations for a reason. They lacked guidance, matrices, support systems, and even theoretical grounding. Sometimes, being too fast at the starting line meant running out of stamina later on. When enemies became a mix of system-breaking and stat-checking monsters, those who overdrew their potential could only end up suffering bitter losses.

Ji Jue’s situation was no longer a matter of lacking foundation. His foundation had been force-fed a massive EXP potion from the furnace and was now so full it was about to explode, stuffing him until he became a 300-jin fat man in one sitting. He was so full that he could barely walk.

To put it simply, it felt like a familiar car suddenly had its engine replaced with that of an airplane. If he wasn’t careful, his Deus Ex Machina would become too strong, and there were already faint signs that he was starting to lose control.

The solution was simple: just level up. That would solve everything.

But that brought him right back to the same problem as before. To advance, he needed to find a matrix and then obtain a blessing. Otherwise, if he just blindly improved his skill tree, who knew what kind of random, messed-up ability he would end up with.

But the matrix Pacifier was still nowhere to be found. And compared to the growth of the experience bar, what mattered even more were the many insights and records he had gained from the furnace essence, the memories and experiences personally lived through by the furnace itself.

If the previous resonance had only given him an introductory lesson, then the massive amount of records within the essence was a true hands-on practical experience, so much so that he had fully mastered Fluid Alchemy.

His understanding of the Twelve Supreme Benevolences had advanced far beyond what it had been before. Not only that, he had also made considerable progress in the four major elements of alchemy: Elevation, Purification, Transformation, and Harmony. This was the truly valuable part.

From this day on, Ji Jue became the official inheritor of the legendary, almost lost art of ancient alchemy: Fluid Alchemy.

If one divided things according to the beginning of the Cataclysm Era, then the alchemy of the Ember Path was split into ancient and modern forms. Compared to modern alchemy, which had been fully standardized and systematized, the craftsmen of the early era had almost no rules or constraints at all.

In fact, alchemy hadn’t even been a separate discipline back then. It had been grouped together with Entropy formulas, Origin contracts, Aether divination and prophecy, rituals of Ascension, and the various abilities of the Supreme Benevolence paths, all collectively referred to as “esoterism.”

The craftsmen of that era also had strong individual styles, but they also came with all sorts of problems. From a purely technical standpoint, it was chaotic beyond belief.

During alchemy, they would use blood, souls, and all kinds of bizarre materials as offerings, employing methods that Ji Jue couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around no matter how hard he tried.

Don’t ask what the principles were. The answer would just be: no one knew, and it didn’t matter.

According to Professor Ye, early alchemy was like a group of people getting into an elevator. Some laughed wildly, some knelt and bowed, some urinated on the floor, and some did nothing at all. And somehow, they all ended up going up together. As for why, each of them believed it was because of what they personally did.

The strange and paradoxical part of this problem was that, in hindsight, no one could even tell who had actually pressed the elevator button.

In other words, it was all just guesswork. It was as if they went into the bathroom, walked backward four steps, yelled “Deep Blue[1]”, tossed in a line like “don’t bully a young man for being poor,” or maybe shouted something about love and bonds, then somehow... everything would just fall into place.

Every single method was weirder than the last.

Aside from a shared, rough overarching system, their underlying logic was completely different from modern alchemy. In some cases, it even went in the opposite direction.

This didn’t mean they had nothing worth learning from. On the contrary, once you discarded a certain amount of convenience and accessibility, the level of enhancement they achieved sometimes far exceeded what modern craftsmen could imagine.

In the late period of the Eternal Empire, before the start of the Cataclysm Era, the emergence of Fluid Alchemy combined the strengths of both. At that time, alchemical theory had already converged toward modern systems, lacking only the later unification by several sages but still preserving the strong characteristics of classic alchemy.

By abandoning two of the major elements, Ascension and Harmony, Fluid Alchemy reached an unmatched level of mastery in the path of Purification. Its unique technique lay in unifying the external form and internal essence of an object, and then using the elevation of essence to indirectly enhance its external strength and functionality.

Even if it started as nothing more than a blade of ordinary iron when freshly forged, as long as the user carefully nurtured it and continuously communicated with it through their own spirit matter to gradually cultivate its spirituality, it could eventually grow into a peerless, razor-sharp divine weapon.

And this was only the most basic application. Under the hands of Sage Mercury, all creations were as if born of nature itself, leaving no trace of artificial craftsmanship. Their concealment was absurdly strong, while also possessing multiple forms and functions. It could be said that it was Mercury who single-handedly elevated Fluid Alchemy to its current height.

What Ji Jue had just learned and mastered were only a few basic circuits and structural concepts she had created. Compared to true experts like Professor Ye and other masters, the gap was beyond measure.

Even so, it was enough.

“Hahahahaha, from today on, call me Sir Squid!!!”

Inside the mobile workshop of the devil's work ball, Ji Jue excitedly spread his arms in front of the furnace. Four mercury limbs refined through alchemy extended from his back, like some floppy deep-sea creature writhing and drifting weakly in the air. They didn’t look like powerful arms at all, but more like tentacles...

Wriggle, wriggle...

This was Ji Jue’s very first result after learning Fluid Alchemy. At first glance, it was clearly just trash.

An Ran reached out and poked a tentacle. One of them snapped in half mid-air, dropped to the ground, and flopped like a dying fish before wriggling its way back to Ji Jue’s back.

“So weak.”

The careless child delivered this blunt verdict, only to be immediately refuted by an embarrassed and furious Ji Jue. He argued that it was actually cute in its own way, that being able to stretch this far was already impressive, and that endurance was what really mattered, and so on, creating a cheerful and chaotic atmosphere.

The good news was that he had learned how to do it. The bad news was that he still had a long, long way to go before he could actually use it properly.

Fluid Alchemy naturally had its unique strengths when dealing with liquid-type materials. For example, the name Mercury came from her godlike mastery of liquid mercury. Ji Jue naturally followed suit, copying what he had seen.

Unfortunately, with his beginner-level control and skill, he simply couldn’t support such a complex construct. It was basically a hollow shell. In fact, when reduced from four limbs to one, it became noticeably more responsive, at least enough to help him hold tools or carry a bag.

In short, it was a toy.

The real achievement, however, came from something else he casually made. Inside a box in his backpack, there were densely packed bullets. Inside each bullet, the core had been hollowed out and filled with specially treated mercury.

Their tips were pre-engraved with Supreme Benevolence emblems of Ruins and Swarm, enhancing their durability and destructive power. Depending on the situation, they could also be swapped with bullet cores engraved with other Supreme Benevolence properties to achieve different effects.

By using Fluid Alchemy to reinforce the entire bullet and using mercury as a carrier, there was no need for An Ran to charge the bullets on the spot anymore. They could be pre-empowered using the Sword Cry matrix in advance and stored, ready to be triggered at any time when needed.

This greatly solved Ji Jue’s problem of insufficient attack power and his difficulty breaking through heavily armored defenses. Just this alone made the trip worthwhile.

But what about the matrix, the Pacifier?

Professor Ye, your strategy guide is useless. There have been who knows how many patches in the meantime.

Since entering the rift, Ji Jue had gathered a ton of clues, even to the point where he had almost uncovered the mysteries behind the collapse of the Celestial Pillar and the fall of the Eternal Empire, but he still hadn’t found even a trace of Pacifier.

Was he really going to be stuck on this level?

The thought that he could return empty-handed, or even be unable to return at all and remain stuck here in the rift forever, sent a shiver down Ji Jue’s spine.

Just as he was lost in thought, the devil's work ball said, “Stop spacing out, kid. Someone’s coming!”

Light lines traced themselves into form, revealing the scene outside.

Just beyond the temporary safehouse they had set up in the ruins, several sneaky figures were peering in from the edge. They looked around curiously, their eyes cautious and alert. In their hands were heavy, bulky weapons, something like firearms, but of a design never seen in the outside world.

More importantly, their appearances all showed varying degrees of mutation and fragmentation, as though beast-like or bodily deformations had taken hold. At the very front, leading them was the “local resident” Ji Jue had let go of earlier.

For a moment, Ji Jue was stunned. Was this the consequence of not finishing the job?

But under the tense standoff and preparations on both sides, the middle-aged man hesitated for a long time. In the end, he actually separated from his companions and walked toward the safehouse. He circled ‌the ruins, unable to find the entrance to the workshop, and whatever courage he had mustered seemed to drain away. He sat down on the ground, as if he were waiting for them to appear.

An Ran stood up, leaning on his cane, but Ji Jue stopped him.

“He might not be here to fight,” he said. “I’ll go take a look.”

After preparing his defenses, he opened the door. As if Ji Jue appeared out of nowhere, not only was the middle-aged man at the entrance startled, even the others in the distance seemed shocked, quickly raising their weapons in fear and hesitation.

Ji Jue looked at the man curiously. “What is it? I don’t think I signed up for any local TV service. Why are you all the way out here collecting fees?”

The mutated man hesitated for a moment, then said, “Outsider, please come with me. The Seer wants to see you.”

This time, it was Ji Jue’s turn to fall silent. Putting aside the invitation, the word “seer” already carried a kind of unsettling, cult-like connotation that made him instinctively wary. He turned his head and exchanged a focused glance with An Ran behind the door. Slowly, he shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit busy, and I don’t really have time for your local, lively community team-building activities. So, I’ll pass.”

The man froze. Then his voice became urgent, distorted, as if human speech was mixed with the chirping of insects. It sounded panicked, as if he was rushing to explain something. After a while, Ji Jue finally made out what he was saying.

“The Seer said she knows where Pacifier is.”

Ji Jue also froze.

After a long moment, he turned back and looked at An Ran. He hesitated for a long time, but he gave in eventually. “Lead the way.”

1. Here, the raw writes 深蓝, which translates to deep blue. “Deep Blue” is an investment term, referring to blue-chip assets with the highest investment value. ☜