Chosen: Beyond Fate

TD[1].

The screen flickered as the message finished sending.

Ji Jue turned off his phone screen and shook his head with a sigh. “Unbelievable. A little thunderstorm and they’re already asking for leave. Useless trash.”

He had wanted to curse a bit more, but the alt account he had just registered, called @CliffCityTopLaner, got banned after only a single insult. Those dogs at city hall never did anything useful in their lives, yet when it came to acting like loyal lapdogs and banning accounts, they moved faster than anyone else.

Ji Jue suddenly lost interest. Forget it. He’d write it down for now and switch to another alt account some other day to continue cursing in the comment section.

In Cliff City, there were three things you could never avoid: wind, rain, and insulting the governor.

Cliff City was located in a remote region right beside the Endless Sea. Typhoons came nonstop every year, and the rainy season dragged on endlessly. Flooding happened every few days, yet the sewer system was such a complete disaster that it might as well not exist at all.

Over the years, governors came and went, all focused only on lining their own pockets. Their slogans were louder than anyone else’s, but they never did a shred of actual work. Instead, they installed trash cans costing eight hundred thousand apiece all over the streets and alleys.

Who wouldn’t get frustrated? The fact that people had only stopped at cursing the governor and hadn’t gone further was proof enough that the populace was still simple, honest, and preserved some ancient virtue.

In just that short span of time, the weather, which had been fairly clear a moment ago, was once again swallowed by dark clouds. A drizzling rain began to fall once more as lightning flashed and thunder roared.

He yawned and gave one final wave of his hand. On the workbench, the cracked alchemical item shattered under the destructive force of the Dissociation Technique, breaking apart into dust.

A lingering thread of refined essence flashed from within, only to be caught by Ji Jue and absorbed through the power of Deus Ex Machina. As the flood of visions and sensations hit him head-on, Ji Jue bared his teeth in discomfort, nausea rising in his throat.

After several days of work, he had finally finished crushing all the scrap-grade alchemical junk he’d hauled back from the villa earlier. The progress on his Dissociation Technique had improved gratifyingly. While the effect was still relatively weak, he could now achieve a one-hundred percent success rate when casting it with both hands.

The problem was that the refined essence squeezed out from all that discarded equipment was pitifully scarce, but it was better than nothing. As a result, the growth of Deus Ex Machina had also been minimal. It was still stuck at ninety-five percent completion of Level Two, with less than five percent growth.

Some people would think this looked impressive on the surface as their followers flocked around them, making them feel important, yet every alchemical item they carried was cheap scrap. The quality was horrifyingly low, and the craftsmanship was so bad it made one cringe.

Some of the workmanship wasn’t merely bad enough to ruin one’s appetite, but it was bad enough to make one flip the entire table over in frustration. People would always manage to surprise you in bizarre and unexpected ways.

It was like when Ji Jue repaired a car and, after removing the wheel, discovered brake pads polished smooth as mirrors; or when a car owner complained about strange noises while driving, only for him to crawl underneath and discover the driveshaft had already snapped clean off and was dragging along the ground.

The sheer absurdity bordered on an engineering miracle. Ji Jue almost wanted to hand them a cigarette and ask, “Sir, how the hell did you even manage this?”

Compared to that, even the pendant of Transcendent Vision from earlier suddenly seemed decent and properly made.

After growing accustomed to Professor Ye’s flawless precision and creations so smooth they seemed heaven-made, Ji Jue’s standards had been raised way too high. He simply couldn’t tolerate the low-grade junk circulating on the market anymore. Just looking at it was enough to trigger his obsessive-compulsive irritation.

In reality, among ordinary alchemical creations sold on the market today, eighty to ninety percent were exactly this kind of garbage. There were far too few qualified craftsmen, and far too much demand.

Fully qualified alchemical craftsmen could already take commissions independently and provide one-on-one customized services for clients. There was no need for them to set up street stalls. As for the standardized equipment mass-produced by large workshops, even that was nowhere near enough to fill the demand gaps of the major organizations.

Which meant that most of the items ordinary people managed to buy were practice pieces made by apprentices. Their only advantage was that they worked, and as long as they worked, that was good enough. Beyond basic functionality, though, their durability, stability, and safety were terrible across the board.

Higher-grade creations carrying blessings were even rarer. More often than not, the products had more backdoors than front doors, consumed more spirit matter than directly burning raw spirit matter material, and the side effects of using them were more disastrous than jumping off a building.

No wonder Chen Xingzhou had gone speechless when Ji Jue claimed that becoming a craftsman was easy. In reality, most people hearing such shamelessly arrogant words would already be showing restraint if they merely laughed and said, “Young man, don’t aim too high.”

From an apprentice’s first steps to becoming a qualified craftsman, even with wholehearted guidance from a teacher, generous support, and exceptional natural talent, the average time required was seven to nine years.

And that was under brutal, all-out competition. Slack off even slightly, have slightly worse aptitude, or get careless instruction from a teacher, and spending ten or twenty years on it was hardly unusual. Plenty of people signed up for the exams year after year, only to eventually study themselves into a mental breakdown and end up in psychiatric hospitals.

The Dragon Gate[2] was difficult to cross no matter where you were. Even now, although Ji Jue’s practical skills were already infinitely close to a perfect score thanks to absorbing knowledge through Deus Ex Machina, the gaps in his theoretical foundation still couldn’t be compensated through cheating.

Of the sixteen official artifact archetypes that a formal craftsman needed to master, he had learned less than half. He had barely entered the beginner level for engraving multiple Supreme Benevolence emblems and constructing advanced composite circuits. As for experience in creating Blessed Creations, he had almost none. There were simply too many experience bars left to grind.

But when you already had lice, one more itch didn’t matter. How long had it even been since he entered the field of alchemy? Ji Jue wasn’t worried in the slightest.

After finishing this morning’s work, he glanced at the clock. It was only a little past eleven, and his mood immediately became even lighter. After washing his face, he headed toward the living room while humming a tune.

The moment he stepped out of the elevator, he ran straight into Ye Chun. Having slept in until now, Ye Chun was still yawning, hesitating over whether to go back and lie down for a bit longer. The moment she saw Ji Jue, her eyes widened, and she subconsciously turned as though ready to flee.

A hand landed on her shoulder, followed by a smiling face popping up beside her, grinning brightly in exaggerated surprise.

“Oh? So you already knew I received the Church’s Radiant Benevolence Badge?”

Ye Chun nearly rolled her eyes. Here it comes again. He’s at it again, isn’t he?! Who the hell asked you?!

Ever since this bastard came back from leave a few days ago, he simply hadn’t stopped. He had pinned the Radiant Benevolence Badge to his collar and showed it off to everyone he met.

1. TD is an internet slang, commonly used to:

• Indicate that something is special, distinctive, or noteworthy.

• Express a particular mood, state, or attitude.

• Convey humor, teasing, or playful sarcasm.

• Show frustration, exasperation, or helplessness, especially regarding a difficult situation or problem.

• Serve as a general emotional shorthand in casual online communication.

The exact meaning is context-dependent and may differ across online communities, regions, and social groups. ☜

2. I have briefly explained this before in a previous chapter, but thought that I’d refresh your memory for those of you who forgot and add more info here.

In Asian culture, the Dragon Gate is the ultimate metaphor for overcoming hardship, determination, and achieving one's full potential. The phrase "The carp has leapt through the dragon's gate" is a classic Chinese proverb. It is used to describe an individual who works diligently and is eventually rewarded with success. ☜