Chapter 53: Forced Rest

[Task Complete. Entity 1-003 successfully contained.]

The scene before his eyes rapidly dissolved, and Fu Qian found himself back in the warehouse, leisurely listening to the mission debriefing.

[Rating: The Insightful]

[Imagination is the source of wisdom; without it, even with the path right before them, the blind remain unable to find it.]
[Along the transcendent path, some threats are inscrutable to gods and ghosts alike—so terrifying that even the fear they inspire cannot be conveyed. Once stepped into, these dark wells offer almost no return.]
[They do not even require malice; their mere existence is a threat.]
[As one of the unfortunate few, you successfully perceived the unimaginable mystic information and saved a portion of the stray lambs—though the lambs will never remember the existence of the shepherd.]
[This catastrophic incident existed in the minds of its victims for less than half an hour before being thoroughly forgotten. The dead and the missing vanished forever from the outside world, leaving not a single trace even within memories.]
[No records whatsoever of this accident were ever kept.]

[Kills: None]

[Rewards: Sanity +20; Inspiration +5; Berserker 2/3]

[Current Sanity: 55]

[Playback event review?]

Why are the kills recorded as none? Shouldn't there be another twenty-six kills added to the tally?

Fu Qian looked at the mission statistics, expressing his grievance.

What a scam!

Complain as he might, Fu Qian could roughly guess the reason.

That group of people, including Feng Yunhong, had already been counted for kills once before, and he had already received the corresponding benefits.

It seemed such kills would not be repeatedly calculated; otherwise, he could have delayed completing the mission and farmed a hundred headcounts back and forth, perhaps triggering some achievement rewards.

Speaking of which...

Fu Qian quickly flipped to his actual reward.

[Berserker: Digestion Progress 2/3]
[Maintaining the calmest mind amidst the most violent slaughter is the essential quality for confronting all powerful entities.]

As the information flashed past, a wave of spiritual energy surged from head to toe, vibrating through his entire body.

Unlike the previous violent torrents of vital blood, under the impact of this wave, his emotions instantly relaxed, his mind eased, and his thoughts became clearer than ever before.

The mental trauma caused by forcibly enduring the torrent of information was also rapidly repaired.

Not only that, but his resistance to mental attacks felt vastly enhanced as well.

He had finally taken another step forward!

The second stage of digesting the Berserker path seemed to lean heavily toward the mental plane.

The reason for this successful digestion most likely had to do with his stubborn resistance against the mental shock upon the stone throne.

Previously, he had worried that encountering a high-tier mental-type transcendent might result in falling victim to their abilities by accident; now, with the increased mental resistance, he probably had nothing to fear.

This reward was surprisingly suitable, well worth the psychological torture he had endured.

Recalling his experience sitting on the stone throne, Fu Qian's very brain felt an involuntary twitch.

[Today's work is complete. Thank you for your efforts.]

[You have worked four consecutive days. To ensure a proper balance between work and rest, the next three days will be a mandatory leave, during which you will be unable to log into the warehouse.]

Four days of work and three days off?

Fu Qian was stunned for a moment, then expressed his absolute satisfaction with such humane regulations.

The task intensity of the past few days had been higher than the last; he certainly needed a break to relax his nerves.

As a freelancer, Fu Qian always had plenty of time on his hands, but this feeling of a proper vacation was a long-lost luxury.

Leaving the warehouse and returning home, it was still quite early.

Fu Qian whipped up a simple meal for himself, then stepped downstairs for a stroll with the pace of a retired elderly gentleman.

Fu Qian's home was located in an old residential complex, the kind without even an elevator.

Most of the residents were retired elderly couples whose children had already started families of their own, and many were old neighbors of many years.

At this hour, the sun was just beginning to rise, and the office workers had not yet woken up; only a scattering of morning exercisers and dog walkers could be seen.

Speaking of which, purely for health reasons, Fu Qian had once persisted in early morning exercises for a period of time, only to be forced to give it up shortly after.

The main reason was that grandpas and grandmas simply slept very little.

Every day when Fu Qian went out for his morning exercise, no matter how early it was, he would find them neatly seated on the long benches by the roadside, even dividing themselves into rows of men and women—truly a unique sight in the neighborhood.

Any young person passing by would have their backs tracked by dozens of gazes until they vanished from sight, followed by a round of spirited discussion. Even a stray dog passing through would have its ancestry traced back a few generations.

Fu Qian was not someone suffering from social anxiety; this spectacle wasn't enough to scare him off.

However, many of the elderly folks were quite familiar with his family's situation, and every time they saw him, they offered a wave of pity, sympathy, and warm inquiries.

People always sympathize with those who pose no threat to them.

In his childhood, Fu Qian had been the lingering childhood shadow of many neighborhood kids, but now that he had turned into an unemployed vagrant, the grandpas and grandmas held no grudges anymore, choosing instead to encourage him to work hard and not give up on himself.

After a few such encounters, Fu Qian gave up his morning exercise routine.

Today, however, he once again strolled leisurely all the way to the neighborhood entrance, and even found a spot to sit on a long bench, soaking in the warmth of the rising sun.

He finally understood why the elderly folks loved basking in the morning sun here.

Just like cats, the soothing feel of the early morning sunlight thoroughly unlocked the laziness within one's heart.

The laziness of old men differed from the legendary aristocratic demeanor; the former was an apathy born of fully satisfied desires, while the latter was a sense of release after forsaking desires.

As for Fu Qian, his was a mud-slide style of taking things as they came—though he preferred to describe it as being smooth and adaptable, unbound by external things.

Fu Qian's appearance naturally drew the attention of the grandpas and grandmas.

Yet, given that he had been absent for a long time, no one came over to strike up a conversation just yet, though private gossip was already swirling.

Fu Qian cared not a whit about this, simply focusing on enjoying his moment of leisure until the sunlight grew scorching enough to drive him back home.

On the second day of sun-basking, while Fu Qian was sitting with his eyes closed in meditation, he suddenly heard a commotion from the spectator area beside the bench.

Fu Qian opened his eyes and looked over, only to see a sleek, vibrant red sports car driving right into the complex.

Though they had never eaten pork, they had seen pigs run; the grandpas and grandmas still had an eye for quality, and their focus quickly shifted to the sports car.

Fu Qian glanced over as well.

He wasn't particularly enthusiastic about cars, but he certainly didn't mind appreciating such a crystal of human industrial civilization.

Observing the car's sharp, aggressive lines, Fu Qian realized he actually recognized it.

If memory served, Young Master Qin Mingze had drooled over this car on more than one occasion, though it was always heartbreakingly expensive, leaving him with nothing to do but sigh in despair.

The roads in the old residential complex were very narrow, but the sports car moved forward quite cautiously, as if terrified of bumping into the elderly residents.

The grandpas and grandmas were exceptionally cooperative as well, itching with anticipation and looking as though they wanted to walk up and stroke the vehicle.

Amidst the collective gaze, the car stopped right in front of Fu Qian.

"Is that him?"

The driver's side window slowly rolled down, and a woman wearing sunglasses pointed a finger at Fu Qian and turned her head to ask.

"Yes."

Qin Mingze's head popped up from the back seat, nodding with a complex expression.