Not everyone had a hidden destiny.
But the odds of having one were high. Around seventy or eighty percent of humans had one, though most destinies were so peculiar that they might never come into play even once in a lifetime.
When such a coincidence happened, people might simply think they were having a bit of bad luck. They would never consider that it was the inevitable result of fate.
Lu Cang's perception drifted over everyone on the island. It wasn't just people who had destinies—even creatures like rabbits and ants had hidden destinies, too.
Their destinies were simply much more insignificant, and the odds of them having one were far lower than for humans.
Perhaps only one ant in ten million had a hidden destiny, and even then, it would only involve some trivial matter.
After searching for a while,
Lu Cang's gaze finally settled on a Level 2 planter.
"Oh, this destiny could actually be useful."
"Always spotting a dangerous enemy before they discover you."
If a combat-class person had this destiny, their combat power might soar to a whole new level. At the very least, they'd never be ambushed.
But for a Level 2 planter,
it meant that one afternoon after working in the fields, while walking around a corner, they might spot a monster a little early, get badly startled, and then casually slap it to death.
The same destiny could mean vastly different things for different people.
Lu Cang casually raised a hand.
The text above the Level 2 planter's head suddenly came loose with a pop, as if breaking free from its chains.
The destiny transferred to Lu Cang, and the few indistinct, flickering symbolic characters gradually merged into his body.
An inevitable destiny had been grafted onto him.
Yet there was no reaction.