Targeted

—Activating Precognitive Vision took roughly a third of a second, and the stamina it consumed was about equal to throwing one full-force punch.

Even Ian, whose stamina had improved considerably, could not activate and deactivate it more than twenty times in a row.

It was not that he lacked the stamina, but that his mind could not withstand the strain caused by activating Precognitive Vision.

It was like an ordinary person—did they not have the stamina to throw twenty punches in succession? They simply had not mastered the method and used their strength incorrectly, so after repeated punches, their elbows and arms would naturally ache and feel sore.

Ian believed that through extensive practice, he could gradually improve the speed and endurance of activating Precognitive Vision, mastering a more scientific and efficient method.

Maintaining Precognitive Vision also consumed stamina.

The consumption was not particularly great. Provided he had eaten his fill, Ian could keep it active for over a minute before feeling tired, roughly equivalent to brisk walking. After resting for a few minutes, he could recover.

Besides that, Ian discovered that the range of Precognitive Vision continuously expanded after activation.

The world turned misty by Precognitive Vision formed a circle around Ian with a diameter of roughly a hundred meters.

Only within this range could he immediately detect "danger" and "opportunity."

However, Ian was still human after all, and his field of view was cone-shaped. Therefore, outside his visual cone, an expert like Hilliard could evade Precognitive Vision's detection through his blind spots if Ian was not paying attention.

As Precognitive Vision remained active, the radius of this circle expanded at a rate of over one meter per second, while its stamina consumption increased rapidly along with it.

When Ian kept Precognitive Vision active for one minute and the precognitive circle reached a radius of one hundred and ten meters, he could no longer endure the intense stamina drain.

Ian guessed that if he could control the range of the precognitive circle and keep it within a certain limit rather than allowing it to expand freely, he could maintain Precognitive Vision for longer.

Perhaps in the future, he could even keep the precognitive circle active around the clock!

That way, no matter who it was, ambushing him would be incredibly difficult.

Though he could not do it yet, Ian believed Precognitive Vision was controllable—it merely required long-term practice.

He added this to the "preparatory work notebook" in his mind as part of his daily training from now on.

"There are quite a few things I need to train."

After exercising until noon, Ian finally felt tired. He boiled a pot of hot water and prepared to cook some wheat porridge.

As he lit the fire, he summed up, "Psionic power and the body complement each other. Neither can be neglected—at this training intensity, I need to eat at least twice as much food to ensure I grow rather than wear down my body."

According to Hilliard, as well as his own observations, Ian had realized that the physical limits of Terrans were astonishingly high.

Even ordinary people who had not embarked on the path of sublimation could, if they persevered in training and honed their bodies to the limit, wrestle an adult bull barehanded and even defeat it.

These were not bulls from Earth. Terra bulls were massive creatures weighing over two tons on average, with cartilage plates covering their bodies—veritable biological tanks!

Beef cattle were one thing, but riding bulls were a third larger than their kind. Once enraged, they could easily smash down a small house.

Even knights took pride in taming a riding bull, while "bull rider" was a renowned title for strongmen.

However, rather than becoming someone capable of wrestling bulls, Ian was more interested in the bodily structure of Terra Continent's cattle and why they could grow so enormous.

Unfortunately, just as on Earth, cattle on Terra Continent were a primary force in farming and a source of various strategic resources.

One bull could plow a hundred times more land than an ordinary farmer, while its sinews could be made into greatbows, and its hide and bone plates were natural sources of armor materials.

Not to mention the price. A well-developed adult bull cost a terrifying two hundred and fifty Taler, and was even more expensive in Harrison Port—equivalent to decades of labor for a farming family without eating or drinking.

Thus, Ian could only regretfully postpone his plan to dissect a bull.

"Hm?"

Even while letting his thoughts wander as he cooked porridge, Ian did not forget to activate Precognitive Vision from time to time to train his psionic power.

If someone had been inside the house, they would have seen rings of crystalline azure light occasionally flare in the white-haired boy's eyes before swiftly fading, flickering like fireflies.

But during one casual sweep, Ian suddenly noticed something was wrong.

He raised his head and looked out the window.

There seemed to be something suspicious there.

"That is..."

Ian rose from his crouch before the stove. His expression turned solemn as the fluorescent light in his eyes lit up, locking onto the suspicious target beyond the wall and outside the cottage. "Someone is watching me?"

Within Precognitive Vision, a pale white humanoid mist was walking along the street.

There was nothing unusual about that. Unlike where Ian had originally lived, the new house Elder Pude had chosen for Ian and Hilliard was located in the seaside district, where there was much more foot traffic during the day.

But this mist had already gone back and forth along the street three or four times, for over ten minutes in total. No matter how he looked at it, it was highly suspicious.

Who is it? Why? It can't be a native, can it? Who would be that brazen?

After thinking for several seconds, the boy moved closer to the window and calmly peered outside through a gap.

A man was passing through the street. He crossed it, turned into the corner of another street, then emerged ten-odd seconds later and passed by the door again. He pretended to be merely passing through, but was actually secretly observing the house's doors and windows.

Ian focused his gaze and realized that the man was someone he knew.

"Brin, the herbalist who wanted to steal my sleep powder?"

Raising his brows, Ian recalled the act he and his teacher had put on before everyone two nights ago.

At the scene of the fire, one of their neighbors had noticed that the bag in his hands contained a considerable amount of valuable sleep powder. That person had tried to seize it by force, only to be stopped and rebuked by Elder Pude, leaving with his tail between his legs.

The herbalist wandering outside the window was precisely Brin.

He was pretending to pass by, but he kept observing Ian's house. His eyes remained fixed on the windows and doors, while his lips moved continuously as he muttered something under his breath.

"Looks like I've been targeted."

Ian shook his head slightly in understanding.

Leaving aside everything else, the clinics in Harrison Port had always purchased this natural substance, which could be used as a painless anesthetic, at high prices. The guard force also needed it badly, as it could be used to capture high-value prey and even magical beasts without injuring them.

Blades and swords had no eyes. Slaying magical beasts made it impossible to ensure their bodies remained intact.

Whether from arrow wounds, sword cuts, or traps, a magical beast's high-quality fur, flesh, and bones would inevitably be damaged and could not be sold at the highest price.

But if one had sleep powder and could capture it alive, that was another matter entirely. Intact fur and internal organs commanded entirely different prices.

Fur materials and processed products from various unusual sublimated plants formed the core of trade between Imperial immigrants and the Redwood Natives. As long as one had them, there would never be any worry about finding buyers.

"What clumsy scouting. Who does this in broad daylight? Doesn't he have a job?"

"Or perhaps he isn't after the sleep powder. Maybe he has another purpose..."

Muttering a complaint, Ian saw that there were quite a few people around and decisively opened the window.

He took a deep breath, then shouted loudly at the man still "passing by" outside, "Brin, why do you keep wandering around in front of my house?"

I would also like to thank Weirdo September, Yin Liuxiao, Bear Dumpling, Night's Glory, Holy Light Seeker, Former Lesbian 527, Cosmic Pigeon, Lord Re-Dye, Arbitration Authority, God-Tier Battleship, Grilled Carp, Yu Mengjun, Melancholy Lord, Azure Spirit Sea, and the other friends for their donations! I've been focused on writing lately, so my thanks came a little late. Please forgive me!