Obscure

The taxi slowed down as it followed the flow of traffic.

After a quick U-turn, Lin Sheng caught a glimpse of the accident scene from inside the car.

A large truck fully loaded with steel pipes had slammed violently into a black sedan.

The entire front half of the sedan was crushed flat. A faint trail of blood was seeping out from the driver's cabin.

"Looks like they didn't make it," the taxi driver sighed. "The truck driver isn't around; he must have fled. Who knows if the police will even be able to catch him. This world we live in, sigh."

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Lin Sheng sensed something off in the driver's tone.

"Quite a bit," the driver replied, gripping the steering wheel. "The political situation is unstable. In port cities like ours, right on the border, law and order are impossible to manage. There are too many foreigners, and Celine is under immense pressure."

"Pressure?" Lin Sheng asked, puzzled.

"It's all about the Red-Wither Ore. Celine and Redon have been bickering over it for so long that the conflict is only intensifying.

They say spies and scouts from Redon are constantly infiltrating our port cities. Every so often, they round a few of them up."

The driver lowered his voice to explain.

Lin Sheng fell silent.

This was the "peace" of a world without the deterrent of nuclear weapons; a single large, rare mineral deposit was enough to spark a dispute between two nations.

The reason Celine's technology and economy had stagnated, and why the country was becoming increasingly unstable, was largely due to its lack of national strength. Its abundant domestic resources had only made it a target for other powerful nations, leading to constant infiltration and suppression.

The driver was a chatterbox throughout the ride, fretting over the state of the nation and the people. From current politics down to the most trivial neighborhood gossip, he could talk until he was blue in the face.

Before long, they arrived at the park.

Lin Sheng paid the fare, stepped out, and walked with practiced ease into the sparsely populated Rainbow Park.

He had been practicing his swordsmanship here for quite a while and had long since claimed a regular spot.

He hadn't brought his real sword this time, as his main goal was to practice meditation.

He navigated the gravel paths, turning left and right until he reached the depths of the park.

Then, he wound his way through the small paths between flower beds until he reached a secluded, desolate clearing.

The lawn in the clearing had already been trampled down, and it sat right next to the city moat, providing good airflow.

Best of all, there was a simple pavilion nearby where one could sit and rest.

Lin Sheng usually trained in the clearing and would head to the pavilion to rest when he got tired.

This time was no exception. He placed his backpack on the stone bench in the pavilion and did a few light warm-up exercises.

Soon, he stood still, closed his eyes, and began to meditate on the Gray Seal rune.

The weather was cool—neither too hot nor too cold. Standing in the clearing in his school uniform, he drew the occasional glance from passersby.

But Lin Sheng didn't care.

His only concern was the true purpose of the Gray Seal rune.

After a short while, he completed one cycle of meditation.

He slowly opened his eyes, feeling a hint of fatigue, and walked over to the pavilion to rest.

"I've been practicing for several days straight since I obtained the Gray Seal rune. Why haven't I felt any obvious effects?"

He was quite puzzled.

He had always placed great importance on this Gray Seal rune, dedicating a large amount of time to meditating on it every day.

"It's a pity the Book of Inheritance doesn't record what the Gray Seal actually does. It only lists the prerequisites for learning it and other miscellaneous information."

"But thinking back carefully, after meditating these past few days, my usual training load seems to have become easier. Is it because I'm starting to adapt, or is the Gray Seal actually having an effect?"

He frowned, unsure.

Without precise instruments for measurement, he couldn't calculate such subtle changes.

"By the standards of Black Feather City, I should be considered a standard Level 1 warrior by now. As for a Level 2 warrior, my physical fitness definitely isn't there yet."

He knew very well that although he had killed the Rotten Swordsman—a skilled Level 2 warrior—in his dream, he had only done so by taking advantage of the situation. In terms of both physical fitness and technique, he was still far behind.

After thinking for a while, he felt sufficiently rested. He braced his hand against the side of the bench, preparing to stand up and continue his meditation.

Unexpectedly, as he applied pressure, a sharp, stinging pain shot through his palm from the stone bench.

"Huh?"

Lin Sheng quickly pulled his hand back and looked at the bench.

There was a thumbtack on the stone bench!

It was silver, with the needle pointing upward and a bit of rust on the head. It was impossible to tell how long it had been lying there.

Seeing the rust, Lin Sheng hurriedly lifted his hand to inspect his palm.

To his surprise, even though he had clearly felt the prick, there wasn't even a mark on his skin.

"What's going on?" Lin Sheng paused, carefully inspecting his palm.

Confirming there were no injuries, his gaze immediately fell upon the thumbtack.

"Could it be?" A key thought suddenly struck him.

Without hesitation, he clenched his fist and punched the wooden pillar of the pavilion.

Thud.

The pillar didn't budge.

His fist didn't hurt at all.

"It feels like I'm wearing a thick leather glove," Lin Sheng remarked in amazement, touching the surface of his knuckles.

Only now did he realize that the texture of his skin seemed to have suddenly become tougher and much harder to scratch.

Overjoyed, he stood up, walked out of the pavilion, and threw a fierce punch at a rough tree trunk.

THUD!!

The tree shuddered, shedding a few leaves.

Lin Sheng stood his ground, pulling back his fist to inspect it; there wasn't even a hint of redness on his knuckles!

"Such powerful defense."

He could feel that the moment his fist struck the bark, the impact force had rebounded entirely onto the skin of his knuckles.

Yet, the result was that his fist felt no pain, while the tree bark bore a shallow indentation where the dead outer layer had been knocked away.

"Let's try this!" Lin Sheng picked up a stone from the ground, turned it to a sharp edge, and slammed it hard against the back of his hand.

Thud.

The tip of the stone snapped off.

Lin Sheng raised the back of his hand; there was no pain, as if his very bones were being protected by something.

There was only a white smudge left behind by the stone dust.

"This defense... it's simply unimaginable! I've only been meditating for a few days, and yet..."

Lin Sheng was shaken to his core.

He now understood what the so-called Sanctuary meant.

In his excitement, he had no heart to continue exercising. He packed his things, shouldered his backpack, and hurried away from the clearing to buy a small knife at a nearby convenience store.

He soon returned to the clearing.

With a swish, he drew the knife.

It was a fruit-paring knife, only a palm's length long and a single knuckle wide.

Lin Sheng gripped the handle and gave his palm a light prick.

It didn't hurt or itch; his skin showed no reaction.

Then, he increased the pressure and pricked it again.

It felt slightly itchy.

He increased the force again, using nearly seventy or eighty percent of his strength.

The tip of the knife stabbed hard into the center of his palm.

This time, Lin Sheng felt a sharp sting.

He picked up the knife and saw a tiny, microscopic cut on his palm, just beginning to seep blood.

"This effect is incredible!"

Lin Sheng was stunned.

This was a knife, and with seventy or eighty percent of his strength, if it were an ordinary person, their palm would likely have been pierced halfway through.

He had to remember that he had been training for some time now, swinging a five-pound metal sword every day; it would be strange if his strength hadn't increased.