Inner Scene

Now that he had an idea, Zhuge Qing no longer hesitated.

He sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion again, regulated his breathing, and followed the method his father, Zhuge Gong, had taught him. He began to quiet his mind and focus his awareness on his spiritual platform.

This was a spiritual technique. Entering the Inner Scene was like sinking his consciousness into a deeper, vaster realm.

In a daze, Zhuge Qing felt as if his consciousness had slipped free of his body and drifted down into a great expanse of chaos.

The scenery around him gradually came into focus.

It was a boundless, gray haze, with no distinction between up and down, left and right.

It seemed as though he stood on solid ground, yet also as though there was nothing beneath his feet.

So this was the Inner Scene?

Zhuge Qing frowned and looked around.

This place... was too vast, and too ordinary.

"Pops said their ancestor discovered that the Inner Scene every sorcerer entered was the same place..."

Zhuge Qing murmured to himself.

But this place was far too nondescript.

What had his ancestor based that conclusion on?

Could it be that different people saw different things here, depending on their cultivation or their understanding?

"Maybe..."

Zhuge Qing thought of his family's legendary ancestor, Zhuge Liang.

According to Pops, who spoke of him with a mixture of pride and reverence, his cultivation had come remarkably close to the legendary ascension to immortality.

Perhaps only someone at that level could glimpse the true secrets of the Inner Scene and confirm that this space was unique.

He shook his head, letting go of a question he had no way to verify for now.

Zhuge Qing began recalling the precautions Pops had told him about the Inner Scene.

First, the Inner Scene connected to what was called the "Heavenly Dao."

In theory, any question could be answered here.

In simple terms, it was like a super search engine.

But getting an answer wasn't free.

The difficulty depended on two key factors:

First, how important the question was to the person asking it.

Second, how much the answer would affect the real world if brought back outside.

For example, Zhuge Qing could ask, "How many ants will be scalded to death by some brat passing by under the third willow tree west of the village entrance tomorrow?"

An insignificant question like that, with virtually no effect on anyone or anything, would be answered in an instant and cost almost nothing.

But if the question concerned someone's fate, some major interest, or even the direction of society as a whole, getting an answer would become exponentially harder.

And what mattered even more to sorcerers was—"deceiving Heaven."

If they told someone outside the Inner Scene information they had obtained there, word for word, it was equivalent to "deceiving the Heavenly Dao."

That would bring down a severe backlash.

The strength of the backlash also depended on how much the information affected the real world.

The greater the impact, the harsher the punishment.

At best, they would be plagued by bad luck, unable to even drink water without choking.

At worst...

Zhuge Gong hadn't been clear about it, but his grave expression had said enough. The likely outcome was something like "dying violently in the street."

That was why sorcerers always spoke in such riddles, like the Riddler.

Using code words, metaphors, or hints to pass on information could avoid or lessen the backlash.

In simple terms, it was like pulling the wool over the Heavenly Dao's eyes.

Once he understood the basic rules, Zhuge Qing felt something didn't quite add up.

"This standard... is a little strange."

He rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

By all logic, the so-called "Heavenly Dao" should be more like the laws of physics—cold, objective fundamentals such as the constancy of the speed of light or the conservation of energy, unaffected by anyone's will.

It should be completely impartial and objective.

But the Inner Scene's standards for judging the difficulty of obtaining answers and the punishment for "deceiving Heaven" were clearly based on people and human society.

Take a simple example.

What would the winning numbers be in the next lottery?

Did this matter at all to the vast universe, or to the so-called Heavenly Dao itself?

Whether some lucky person won a few million or tens of millions, the Earth would keep turning and the universe would keep expanding.

The only people affected would be the winner and those around them, along with the distribution of wealth on a small scale.

Compared to "which ant will be scalded to death tomorrow," was it really all that much more important on a cosmic scale?

Probably not.

But by the Inner Scene's standards, getting the lottery numbers—and the punishment for "deceiving Heaven" by revealing them—would both cost an astronomical amount.

"A human-centered Heavenly Dao?"

Zhuge Qing found the idea absurd.

Wouldn't that be more like... a set of rules someone had made up?

Or perhaps the so-called Heavenly Dao was concerned with human society in the first place?

He couldn't figure it out.

He had too little information. Guessing would be pointless.

Practice was the only test of truth.

Zhuge Qing took a deep breath and decided to test the Inner Scene himself.

He focused his thoughts and silently asked his first question:

"How many ants in total will die by accident within Zhuge Village tomorrow—for example, by being scalded, stepped on, or drowned?"

As soon as the thought formed,

a fist-sized orb of soft white light silently appeared in the gray void ahead.

The orb wasn't solid. It even looked a little unreal.

Zhuge Qing could tell that all he had to do was direct his thoughts toward it, and he could easily "open" it and obtain the information inside.

Just as Pops had said.

Obtaining this kind of insignificant information was practically effortless.

He didn't open it right away. Instead, he asked a second question:

"What are the standard answers to every subject on my school's final exams next month?"

That was clearly more important to him personally than the fate of a few ants.

But as far as society as a whole was concerned, the impact was negligible.

Another orb appeared.

This one was denser than the previous one, and its light shone brighter. He could sense a faint resistance from it.

Zhuge Qing tried to "touch" it with his thoughts. It felt like he needed to use a little more "strength" to open it.

"Interesting."

The corners of his lips lifted. He raised the stakes.

His third question:

"What is the launch code for the 'nuclear football' carried by the current president of the United States?"

This question could have a nuclear-level impact, both on him personally—since he would know something he shouldn't—and on the global order.

Humm...

The space seemed to tremble slightly.

An extremely dense orb, almost solid, appeared before him.

It radiated a blinding white light, distorting the space around it.

Zhuge Qing could even sense a strong warning in it, as though forcing his way in would bring catastrophe down on him.

He couldn't even think of opening it. Just getting close made his heart pound.

"Yeah, I'd better not touch that."

Zhuge Qing sensibly withdrew his thoughts.

It seemed the Inner Scene's rules were more or less as Pops had described.

Importance and impact determined the difficulty and the risk.

He'd tested enough. Zhuge Qing's eyes shifted, and a sly smile appeared on his face.

He cleared his throat and asked his next question,

"What's the ending of Naruto?"

The question had no practical significance to him personally.

Its impact on this world was still uncertain...

After all, the Naruto manga had only just started running in Weekly Shonen Jump in this world.

Once Naruto became famous, it would surely have a huge impact on the world. In his previous world, it had become a global phenomenon.

But at this point, that wasn't necessarily the case...

The moment the thought formed,

an orb appeared in response.

It was about the same size as the orb for the first question, about the ants. It was just as hazy, just as soft.

He barely had to exert any effort. He touched it lightly with his thoughts.

Whoosh—

A flood of familiar, complicated information poured into his mind.

Naruto and Sasuke's Battle of the Valley of the End, the severed arms, their reconciliation.

Kakashi becoming the Sixth.

Naruto and Hinata's wedding...

So the standard for judging impact was how much it affected society at the time?

Or would Naruto not become as popular in this world as it had in his previous one?

What bothered him even more was that, in this world, there was no way anyone but him, a transmigrator, could know the ending in such detail.

Yet the Inner Scene had given him the answer, and even the panels matched his memories exactly.

That was very intriguing.

He hadn't specified the form of the answer, but the Inner Scene had directly given him the detailed contents of the manga.

There were at least two possibilities behind this.

The first possibility: the "Heavenly Dao" the Inner Scene connected to really was omniscient and omnipotent.

It knew not only the past and present, but even things that hadn't happened yet and "information" from different worlds.

The second possibility: the Inner Scene gave him that answer not because it "knew" it, but because the person asking the question—Zhuge Qing himself—already "knew" the answer.

The Inner Scene had simply read and reflected his own memories, which was why the manga matched them exactly.

"Tsk..."

Thinking of that, Zhuge Qing licked his dry lips. Things were getting more and more interesting.