Cultivating in the Wizard World

Chapter 752: Chapter 635: The Night and First Contact (Double Chapter) (2)

Additionally, there are means beyond the five senses.

Jeming stopped walking and closed his eyes briefly.

A faint golden light appeared on his forehead.

Fate System, activate.

The golden light shimmered slightly on his forehead, as if some intangible sense had been opened.

The scene before Jeming’s eyes changed.

Countless thin, thread-like lines of light appeared on the ground of the wasteland, some bright, some dim.

Some extended straight into the distance, others tangled and intertwined at a point, forming one "knot" after another.

These were the destiny lines.

Each "knot" represented a convergence point of fate, usually indicating human settlements, events, or some anomaly.

He did not mobilize these destiny lines.

On this plane, where mystery and law were deeply intertwined, actively pulling the causal network was like flying a kite in a thunderstorm and might lead to unnecessary trouble.

He wasn’t sure what level these "unnecessary troubles" were, nor how deeply connected they were to this world. Until he figured it out, avoiding them was the wisest choice.

But merely "observing" was fine for providing information to himself.

Jeming’s gaze swept over those "knots," searching for two conditions: one was a high degree of entanglement with mystery, and the other was involving fewer people.

He needed intelligence.

Language, writing, social structure, mysterious distribution... all these needed to be gathered from the locals.

He quickly locked onto a direction.

Northeast, about two hundred kilometers away, there was a less conspicuous destiny line "knot."

The density of light there was far lower than the surroundings, with a darker hue.

Moreover, the texture of those lines showed an unnatural twist, as if forcibly twisted together by some external force.

Jeming opened his eyes, and the golden light on his forehead faded away.

He adjusted his direction and moved toward the northeast.

However, he still didn’t fly, only walking.

Flying would produce energy fluctuations, which might be perceived by Night Mysterious, or detected by other presences on this plane.

Before gathering intelligence related to this plane, everything must be approached with caution.

"Ha! This feeling is really nostalgic."

Jeming suddenly couldn’t help but laugh.

Having joined the Elite Combat Unit, he hadn’t experienced this cautious probing and information gathering on a new plane for a long time.

"The last time I was this cautious was with Victor and Amy during the graduation trial... unconsciously, almost two thousand years have passed..."

The wasteland underfoot "slowly" retreated in the dark, leaving only a sigh drifting in the wind.

Jeming’s steps seemed not fast, but each step spanned a hundred meters, a passive enhancement of his body.

No energy output was needed, purely a manifestation of physical quality.

After walking for about half an hour, the terrain in front started to change.

The flat ground of the wasteland became undulating, with low hills sketching blurred outlines on the horizon.

Among the hills, faintly, some regular geometric shapes could be seen, appearing to be human-made structures.

Jeming slowed his pace and dimmed the brightness of the light sphere further.

The buildings grew closer.

With Jeming’s eyesight, he could clearly see that it was a deserted settlement.

Stone walls had collapsed for the most part, and wooden roofs had long decayed, leaving only slanted pillars creaking in the night wind.

Narrow alleys lay between the buildings, filled with rubble and dead branches.

But deeper in the settlement, there were a few relatively well-preserved buildings, with faint orangish-red light seeping through the stone wall cracks.

A bonfire.

Someone was inside.

Jeming did not deliberately hide himself, walking directly towards the direction of the firelight.

His steps were light, but even in the silence of the night, the sound of pebbles being stepped on was still clearly audible.

And the white light sphere beside him revealed his position completely.

Jeming walked into a narrow alley, flanked by half-collapsed stone walls.

The firelight was less than fifty meters ahead, through a broken stone window, he could see the figures of several people moving.

Then, a sharp sound.

Something flew out of the darkness at a speed ordinary people couldn’t react to.

Jeming raised his right hand, spread his index and middle fingers, and lightly pinched in front of him.

A copper bullet was "plucked" by him, its surface still carrying the warmth from the barrel, exuding a faint smell of gunpowder into the air.

Jeming glanced at the bullet, then looked in the direction from which it flew.

Behind the firelight, through a stone window, a figure was holding a thin metal tube, its tip still smoking.

A gun.

Jeming’s eyes brightened slightly.

Judging by the bullet’s caliber, initial speed, and the material of the projectile, this plane’s level of technological civilization was roughly equivalent to the world he traversed from.

Interesting.

Jeming casually dropped the bullet on the ground, continuing forward.

The gunman behind the stone window clearly froze.

From this distance, he couldn’t see Jeming’s face, only seeing the bullet he fired disappearing without an attempt to dodge by the opponent.

Did he miss, have body armor, or something else?

No matter what, his reaction was quick.

Three rapid gunshots rang out.

Three bullets flew in a pyramid formation, two aiming at Jeming’s chest, one at his head.