Stone Ridge Mountain, the study.
The walls here had been built from the hardest forbidden-zone ore, yet at this moment, they were trembling faintly.
Chu Qing stood barefoot on the icy blue stone floor. Before him hovered the gray core he had stripped from inside the High-Dimensional Parasite. Its surface was covered in dense strings of code that were constantly collapsing and re-forming, and the light and shadow it projected silently wove together in the dim room.
That was the "Harvest Table."
Chu Qing's fingers hovered in midair, his fingertip lightly touching a string of pulsing red characters.
[Designation: Zero. Nature: Tinder Harvest Experimental Field.] [Estimated reset time: four hundred and ninety-three years.]
"Less than five hundred years."
Chu Qing murmured. His voice was hoarse, as if it had been scraped across a rough grindstone.
Five hundred years. To the assault class of Stone Rock County, that was an unreachable lifespan. But on the scale of this boundless Chaos Sea that had devoured countless epochs, it was no more than the time it took a Scribe to yawn.
Chu Qing's five fingers suddenly clenched.
(Physiological reaction): His finger joints let out a series of cracking Explosive Sounds, "crack, crack." A blue vein at his temple abruptly began to throb, and the line of his jaw went taut like a block of pig iron.
A baleful aura surged up from deep within his spine, accompanied by the Purple True Blood accelerating through his veins, and in an instant it burst through the disguise over his body.
The air in the study abruptly liquefied. The heavy pressure of his rank made the redwood desk creak under the unbearable weight, then with a crack, several savage fissures split across it.
He continued looking down.
Behind the form, the products after harvest were recorded.