Chapter 37: A Glimpse of the Divine
At first, it happened when someone was fighting.
They tried to swing their blade, but when the weapon cut through the air, icy spikes suddenly formed along its edge.
Then, in another section of the battlefield, flames appeared out of nowhere.
Cheng Qisheng was studying the reports sent over by the Blue Sea Research Institute, analyzing why, after a civilization advanced to a higher tier, some residents awakened extraordinary genes.
“It has something to do with energy. After the Safe City reached Tier 3, the air, food, and even the water within the city all contained a trace of an unknown substance that had never existed before.”
“This unknown substance isn’t affected by the Air Purification Towers. It’s more like a law or rule of the world, one that the human body passively absorbs.”
“Some people are naturally able to absorb more of it, allowing them to awaken extraordinary abilities more quickly.”
As she spoke, Cheng Qisheng compared the reports, jotting down notes and diagrams.
“There’s good reason to suspect that this kind of civilization advancement can also occur on an entire planet. In the future, we may encounter civilizations where every single individual possesses extraordinary abilities.”
She turned her gaze toward her believers.
Those who had awakened supernatural powers had split into two groups.
One group could use their newfound abilities immediately, showing no physical discomfort whatsoever.
The other experienced the same rejection reaction as Yin Yuan and Qu Tianming.
These people developed high fevers and had to be escorted off the battlefield by their companions.
“Aether, send them to the temple. Have the temple conduct thorough examinations, then continue observing whether there are any differences after they’ve awakened their abilities.”
The busy Aether immediately replied,
“Understood, City Lord. Rescue protocols have been updated. The primary mission objective has been changed to safely transferring all rescue targets to the temple’s isolation ward.”
The battlefield now fell within the coverage of the AI system. It automatically marked every Blue Sea resident who awakened during combat, developed a high fever, and suffered a sharp decline in combat capability with a flashing red rescue alert.
This was a new feature developed by Blue Sea’s Combat Command Center in Lianyan City.
For now, it only functioned within the AI network’s coverage. Whenever a resident encountered danger and needed rescue—or whenever the AI determined that rescue was necessary—the resident’s phone or smartwatch would automatically light up with a red warning signal.
At the same time, the AI would automatically issue rescue missions to nearby Blue Sea residents.
Once they accepted the mission, they could follow the designated rescue route to reach the resident in need.
Although this rescue feature had already been introduced back in Mianyan City, very few residents had actually used it.
That was largely because the Blue Sea Safe City had already cleared almost all of Mianyan City.
The Tier 3 AI’s coverage extended 300 kilometers outward from the Safe City as its center.
But Mianyan City itself was far larger than the AI’s coverage area.
Blue Sea troops were everywhere. Even in the most remote corners, one could find Blue Sea residents digging through the ruins, trying to uncover more resources. There were more people than zombies, so there was hardly ever any need to call for rescue.
As a result, this was effectively the first time the system had truly been put to use since its development. To ensure nothing went wrong, Aether devoted two-thirds of its computing power to managing the rescue operation.
Under normal circumstances, the rescue mission fee was paid by the resident requesting assistance. The system even thoughtfully offered a loan service.
The Life Loan had no borrowing limit. Even if a resident borrowed ten thousand contribution points to issue a rescue request, the AI would approve it.
Under the watchful gaze of the Great Creator God, no resident would ever treat a Life Loan lightly. The moment they applied for one, it meant they had already accepted that they might spend the rest of their lives repaying the debt.
But the current situation was different.
Aether determined that every awakened superhuman was a vital asset to Blue Sea Safe City, so the rescue costs should be covered by the government.
Likewise, rescuing such valuable assets deserved generous compensation.
Based on Blue Sea Safe City’s economic system and the strategic importance of superhumans, Aether calculated what it considered the most appropriate reward.
It was a rather substantial amount.
Because it was obvious that every Blue Sea resident was completely fired up in battle. If the mission reward wasn’t high enough, it would be difficult to persuade anyone to temporarily leave the fight to carry out a rescue.
As a result, some Blue Sea residents—those fighting in less intense areas who still had the time to pull out their phones or glance at their tactical smartwatches when the AI notification sounded—had their eyes light up instantly.
[Rescue Mission Notice]
Level 2 Rescue Mission Issued: Rescue [Resident Photo].
Residents accepting this mission, please proceed to the marked location, locate the rescue target, and safely escort them to the Temple Isolation Ward.
Mission Completion Rewards:
• 1,500 contribution points
• 50% increase to your Weapon Loan credit limit
• One-month 20% discount voucher for the cafeteria.
The Blue Sea residents: !!!
Wang Moning received the rescue mission as well, and her eyes immediately lit up.
Every one of those rewards was incredibly tempting!
Besides, the city gate was only a short distance behind them. This rescue mission wouldn’t take much time at all. Once they delivered the target to the temple, they could come right back and continue fighting.
“Captain!! Let’s head over here! This rescue target is the closest to us!”
Wang Moning shouted excitedly.
She had to yell because it was simply too noisy—everyone around her was shouting at the top of their lungs.
The battlefield was packed. There were simply too many zombies and too many Blue Sea residents.
Only now did Wang Moning understand why the military had erected one tall framework after another outside the Safe City.
The structures looked crude, as though they had been hastily welded together from scrap metal. They came in all sorts of odd, irregular shapes, but they all shared one feature—they were very tall.
Many Blue Sea residents could easily climb them, then leap from one framework to another, using them as elevated pathways to move freely across the battlefield.
Having spent every day climbing chains up and down at the Residential Services Center, Wang Moning had developed pretty good climbing skills herself. She grabbed hold of one of the metal pillars, preparing to climb up and search for the rescue target.
But in the very next instant, a scene suddenly flashed through her mind.
—In the vision, after she climbed onto the framework and let her guard down, a zombie suddenly climbed up after her.
It moved with astonishing speed, reaching out to grab her calf.
How could a zombie climb?
They weren’t supposed to have that ability.
The doubt flashed through Wang Moning’s mind for only an instant, but the scene had felt so real that the instincts she had honed through countless battles took over. She planted a hand on the platform and performed a backward handspring, narrowly avoiding the pitch-black claws that had been reaching for her leg.
It was real!
She swung her saber with all her strength, but the zombie dodged.
Wang Moning’s heart skipped a beat—not because the zombie had dodged. Before setting out, the AI had already warned them that Tier 2 zombies might appear. This one was most likely one of them.
What alarmed her was that something felt wrong with her own body.
Countless images seemed to flash before her eyes.
Just this one zombie dodging her attack generated more than a dozen overlapping images, each from a slightly different angle.
It was so noisy.
The zombies’ roars.
The residents shouting tactics to one another.
The screech of sharp claws scraping against the metal framework.
Her ears throbbed with pain, and her vision was filled with countless overlapping afterimages of the zombie’s movements.
It was as if she could see every possible path the zombie might take.
But there were too many trajectories, and they shifted too quickly. Wang Moning couldn’t tell which one represented reality.
Even as she instinctively kept swinging her saber while retreating from the swarm of “zombie images” rushing toward her, she suddenly felt something brush lightly against her head.
The chaotic visions became slightly clearer for a brief moment.
Amid the deafening noise, she also heard Song Xi’s voice.
“Ningning!!”
Wang Moning slashed forward with all her strength, severing the zombie’s arm.
The next instant, a gunshot rang out.
The zombie collapsed, revealing Song Xi standing behind it.
To Wang Moning, the fight had seemed to drag on for a long time.
But from Song Xi’s perspective, the entire encounter had lasted less than a minute.
All Song Xi saw was Wang Moning nimbly dodge the zombie’s initial attack, then continue retreating across the metal framework while repeatedly swinging her saber.
It was as if she’d gone blind.
The zombie had already moved to her side, yet she kept slashing at the empty space in front of her.
Fortunately, at the critical moment, Wang Moning managed to chop off the zombie’s arm, and Song Xi arrived just in time.
Otherwise… she’d be facing Zombie Ning right now.
Song Xi dug out the zombie’s crystal core. It was a pale red color.
She had no time to determine whether it belonged to the rumored Tier 2 zombie before leaping over to Wang Moning’s side.
“What’s wrong? Are your goggles fogged up?”
Wang Moning shook her head.
“My ears… My ears hurt so much!”
The brief moment of clarity vanished almost immediately.
The chaotic sounds flooded back into Wang Moning’s mind, as if her hearing had suddenly become dozens of times more sensitive.
She clutched her ears, overwhelmed by the noise until her vision blurred.
She could hear the waves crashing against the shore.
She could hear the faint rustling of a crab scuttling across the beach.
She could hear seabirds crying in the distant sky.
She could hear the crack of bones snapping as zombies were cut apart.
She could hear people shouting nearby.
“That rescue target was assigned to us first!”
“You say you got it first, so what?! The person’s in our hands now! Whoever gets there first keeps the mission!”
“Guys, can you stop arguing? I’ve got a fever… I’m so dizzy… I just want to soak in the hot springs… Could you please take me back first…”
“Oh, right! The AI automatically calculates everyone’s mission contribution anyway. What are we arguing for? Hurry up—let’s work together and get him back! He’s practically roasting alive!”
Too loud!
It’s so unbearably loud!
Why are there so many sounds? Why is everything so deafening?!
Then—
It felt as though a gentle force was softly stroking the top of her head.
The sensation eased her suffering.
Her racing heartbeat gradually slowed.
Who… is it?
It felt as though some immensely powerful existence was watching over her from above with infinite gentleness.
It caressed her.
It cared for her.
It protected her.
What was it?
Was it… the Great Creator God?
Yes.
It had to be.
Wang Moning had a strange premonition.
In her current state, she might be able to catch a glimpse of even a tiny fragment of the divine.
What does the great Creator God of Blue Sea—the god who embraces me, who accepts me—look like?
Human curiosity, the instinctive desire to seek knowledge, compelled her to look up.
But the moment she raised her head, every instinct in her body screamed at her to stop.
Don’t do it!
She wanted to shut her eyes.
But she was too late.
Wang Moning looked toward the sky.
“AAAAAHHHH!!!”
The scream was so shrill and agonizing that every nearby Blue Sea resident was startled and immediately turned to look.
All they saw was a young woman kneeling atop the metal framework, clutching her eyes as she cried out in pain.
“Ningning? What’s wrong? Don’t scare me!”
Song Xi hurried over and caught hold of Wang Moning.
But when Wang Moning lowered her hands, Song Xi froze.
Bloody tears streamed from Wang Moning’s eyes.
Her eyelids were squeezed tightly shut as she trembled uncontrollably in Song Xi’s embrace.
Song Xi hoisted her onto her shoulder and rushed toward the city gates.
Along the way, other residents who had accepted the rescue mission joined in to escort them. Some chose to remain on the battlefield, but still cleared away the zombies blocking their path.
After all, the AI was watching.
Even killing just one or two zombies that obstructed the rescue counted toward a person’s mission contribution.
“I… I can’t see…”
Still clinging to Song Xi’s shoulder, Wang Moning kept her eyes tightly shut as bloody tears continued to flow down her face.
Shivering, she repeated the same words over and over.
“I can’t see…”
As she ran, Song Xi tried to reassure her.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Once we get back to the temple, the archbishops will heal you. You’ll be able to see again soon!”
She assumed Wang Moning had injured her eyes and had fallen into a panic because she’d gone blind.
But after offering those words of comfort, Song Xi heard Wang Moning murmur softly to herself,
“I didn’t see it…”
“…Thank goodness I didn’t see it.”
When she looked up at the sky, all she saw was a blinding mass of light.
Just that fleeting brush of radiance was enough to split her head with agony and send searing pain through her eyes.
Yet in that single instant, it felt as though she had witnessed the beginning and end of all things.
She saw mountains collapsing and the earth breaking apart.
She saw planets being reassembled.
She saw civilizations fall into extinction.
There was too much.
Far, far too much.
The torrent of information nearly made her head explode.
The mere act of recalling it caused Wang Moning to scream in agony, her instincts refusing to let her think about it any further.
She didn’t dare retain even the slightest fragment of those visions.
Otherwise, she had no doubt that the overwhelming flood of knowledge would reduce her to an idiot.
Forget it.
Forget everything.
It was as though her brain, in a desperate effort to protect her, was rapidly erasing those memories, blurring every last trace of them.
Her instincts told her that she had merely glimpsed a tiny speck of the light radiating from the divine.
The stabbing pain in her eyes had been a form of protection, physically cutting off her vision.
Had she looked for even a moment longer…
She might have become an idiot on the spot.
“…Thank goodness…”
“…I didn’t see it…”
As the flood of impossible knowledge gradually faded from her mind, Wang Moning’s desperate, ragged breathing slowly steadied.
Keeping her eyes closed, she felt as though she had finally returned to the world of the living.
Sensing that Wang Moning had calmed down, Song Xi also breathed a sigh of relief as she carried her through the city gates.
“Ningning, what are you talking about? What do you mean you didn’t see it? What didn’t you see?”
Wang Moning slowly shook her head.
“I didn’t see… our God…”
She felt that gentle touch once again brush over the top of her head.
The deity had forgiven her for trying to peer at Her.
Or perhaps…
The deity simply hadn’t cared.
She merely remained there in silent stillness, drawing the child who had nearly broken herself by glimpsing a mere sliver of Her radiance into Her embrace, as though gently comforting her.
Under the blessing of that touch, the stabbing pain in her eyes gradually subsided.
Tears streamed down Wang Moning’s face.
“Thank You, my God.”
But this time…
She no longer dared to raise her head.
The divine cannot be looked upon directly.
The divine cannot be truly heard.
The divine cannot be pursued.
That…
Was what it meant to be…
A god.
—
Cheng Qisheng sipped her milk tea while gently patting Wang Moning’s head over and over.
It looked almost as though she were tapping a wooden fish during Buddhist chanting.
As she patted her, she muttered to herself,
“She should be okay by now, right? …She won’t go blind, will she?”
She had long known that Wang Moning’s senses were far sharper than those of an ordinary person. So the moment Wang Moning awakened as an extraordinary, Cheng Qisheng immediately shifted part of her attention to her.
When she realized Wang Moning’s supernatural ability seemed to be related to enhanced hearing, and saw her clutching her head in pain, Cheng Qisheng had kindly reached out to pat her head, bestowing a blessing to ease her suffering.
Then Wang Moning simply looked up…
She glanced toward the sky…
And her eyes reacted as though they had been scorched by something.
Cheng Qisheng switched through several different believers’ perspectives to look at the sky herself.
She saw nothing at all.
From that viewpoint, it seemed that the only thing Wang Moning could see…
…was her.
…Could it really have been because of me?
I didn’t do anything.
At the time, she had merely been sipping the tapioca pearls in her milk tea while simultaneously dividing her attention three ways—comforting the extraordinary who were suffering physical distress, and binge-watching a TV drama at the same time.
Cheng Qisheng quickly followed the chain of faith to inspect Wang Moning’s mind.
What she found was utter chaos.
An enormous flood of information had nearly torn Wang Moning’s mind apart.
That won’t do.
She had only just awakened as an extraordinary, and judging by appearances, she seemed to possess a rather powerful ability.
She couldn’t be allowed to end up an idiot.
Cheng Qisheng immediately guided the chain of faith, slowly calming Wang Moning and helping her clear away the chaotic memories filling her mind, barely managing to pull her back from the brink.
After that came another round of enthusiastic head-patting.
‘Sorry. This is the only trick I know.’
She continued bestowing blessings until Wang Moning gradually returned to normal.
Only then did the Great Creator God finally breathe a sigh of relief.
She popped another tapioca pearl from her milk tea into her mouth.
Then she tapped Wang Moning lightly on the forehead and turned her attention to the fragments of information that had been separated from Wang Moning’s mind.
There really wasn’t anything remarkable about them.
They were just scenery—
The same kind of scenery Cheng Qisheng had long since grown accustomed to seeing on Dark Star.
Although those memories spanned hundreds of billions of years, the actual memory fragments added up to only about five hundred years, and even those were incomplete and scattered.
So… was Wang Moning’s extraordinary ability the power to perceive things that others couldn’t?
For example…
Could she glimpse fragments of the future and the past during battle?
Or perhaps she could simply perceive far more information than ordinary people?
The moment Wang Moning awakened as an extraordinary and looked up…
Had she inadvertently captured five hundred years’ worth of information from Dark Star?
She had the ability to receive it…
But not the ability to process it?
Chewing thoughtfully on her taro boba, Cheng Qisheng poked Aether—who was diligently busy working—in the rear, finally realizing something.
An ordinary human only lived for about a hundred years.
Five hundred years of memories…
Yeah, that really was a bit too much.
If she hadn’t reacted quickly enough to pull those memories out of Wang Moning’s mind, Wang Moning would definitely have become an idiot.
Cheng Qisheng remembered that when Wang Moning had looked toward her, the TV drama she was watching had just reached its most exciting scene.
The heroine’s marriages to the first, second, and third male leads had all been exposed.
The first male lead had just discovered that the second male lead was actually his own son.
The third male lead turned out to be his cousin.
And at that exact moment, the first male lead was pointing a gun at the second male lead, preparing to shoot him.
Even the Creator God had to pay attention to a plot twist like that.
So, during that brief instant…
Cheng Qisheng had looked away.
“Ah…”
“That was close.”
“Good thing I looked away.”
Otherwise, if Wang Moning had actually made direct eye contact with her…
Her brain might have been scrambled instantly.
She had almost lost one of her most promising subordinates.
After finishing her milk tea, Cheng Qisheng tossed the empty cup into the trash can and sat down in front of the television, deep in thought.
She had always thought of herself as nothing more than a patient.
No matter how much Aether insisted that her mental power was unimaginably immense, the fact remained that she still had to walk slowly because she couldn’t yet fully control her own body.
But now…
She felt it was time to seriously reconsider that assumption.
Just five hundred years of memories…
Had nearly turned an ability user into an idiot.
But Cheng Qisheng had been watching over Dark Star for hundreds of billions of years.
Aside from the first half year, when the pain had been so unbearable that it felt as though a hundred billion people were sawing through her body at the same time, she had gradually grown used to it.
It went from excruciating…
…to merely painful.
Then to a dull ache.
And finally…
…to no pain at all.
Honestly, after Aether explained the cause of Mortal Vessel Syndrome, Cheng Qisheng had no choice but to admit that the worsening of her condition was probably connected to her constant vigil over Dark Star.
According to Aether, every time she looked in on her believers, she was actually using her mental power.
Which meant that throughout those hundreds of billions of years spent watching over Dark Star, Cheng Qisheng had been continuously exercising her mental power, unconsciously tempering and expanding her mental domain.
The stronger one’s mental power became…
…the less capable the physical body was of bearing it.
And so…
…the more severe the illness became.
“…Okay, stop.”
Cheng Qisheng firmly refused to dwell on how she had somehow managed to make herself more miserable the harder she worked.
Now, that raised a question.
She stared at her own reflection in the television screen.
My believer merely glanced in my direction…
In fact, she didn’t even truly see me…
…and she nearly became an idiot.
“…So…”
“…Have I already become something… incredibly powerful?”
