Who exactly was the scriptwriter?
Perhaps the mission had already been cleared successfully long ago, but this question was hard to ignore.
Unfortunately, the Warehouse summary contained very little information on the subject.
Yet the gains before him seemed to offer a few possible answers... Wu Chang? Jade Soul Master? Or perhaps something whose name didn't matter?
Yes. The instant his perception returned, Fu Qian clearly sensed the staff outside the Spirit Ash Institute, going about their daily routines.
And the Witch had made it quite clear: because of how the Burial Scroll worked, its effects weren't perfect. He could only sense those who were sensing him.
He was in such a secluded spot right now that it wouldn't be easy for the mentors to sense him.
Fu Qian had always maintained that the greatest advantage of being fully prepared was being able to find an explanation as quickly as possible when something felt off. They weren't sensing him—they'd simply been given access to his presence.
Some kind of shared network was active, just like the one Bailuoke had used back then.
If anything, this one was even more discreet.
There should be no opening above them, and even the adjustments to the script were more seamless.
He had to admit, at first glance, the whole thing felt a little out of place.
After all, the reward for that mission had been a divine trait called Lie, whose fused form was known as the Pale Prophet.
For the longest time, Fu Qian had imagined that behind Bailuoke stood some specific Higher Being worshiped by prophets and seers.
But based on his earlier judgment, Jade Soul Master had clearly followed a path of cultivation, and yet that corresponded to the imagined "candy."
Once he accepted that premise, however, it wasn't