Tubuai Island is covered with thick vegetation, like a green leaf on a vast sea. Sparsely populated villages are scattered across this green leaf, like white eggs left by butterflies.
The local residents have lived in this tiny place for generations, and the extreme scarcity of resources makes them cherish everything here. They know that the land beneath their feet is only so big, and the things on it are only so much; once they're used up, they're gone. They cherish every handful of soil, every tree, and every drop of fresh water. Apart from what is necessary for survival, they hardly cut down any trees, and even the houses they build are as simple as possible.
Therefore, the vegetation here is lush and even, and there are very few exposed rocks except by the sea. However, the hillside where Qingmu is located is an exception.
This place is like a scar on a green leaf, eaten by insects, or a withered mark left from a harsh winter. No matter how many springs this leaf experiences, it can never reawaken its long-extinguished vitality. In the vast expanse of green, there is not a single tree, thorn, or blade of grass, only scorched yellow-brown earth and rocks.
The hillside is not very undulating, with some weathered rocks scattered sparsely in the first half. It is not until the top of the slope that the number of rocks increases. Near the top, there are piles of rocks that seem to be arranged in a disorderly yet orderly manner.
However, Qingmu was still some distance away, but he now felt that there was a wall blocking his way.
He knew very well that this wall was invisible, a kind of mental barrier.
An ordinary person might not feel anything different; they could simply stretch out their foot and pass through without hindrance. However, if the person is mentally sensitive or possesses the ability of lucid dreaming, their consciousness would likely be affected by this formidable mental wall, to the point that their brain would actually perceive a wall in front of them, forcing them to take a detour.
Qingmu certainly wouldn't hallucinate because of this, but he would also find it difficult to break through easily. If he were to run at full speed now, he would have to pierce through the mental barrier in front of him with all his might, but it would be difficult to use his Mental Power to interfere with the rapidly shooting bullets. He also couldn't withdraw his Mental Power and walk up like an ordinary person, otherwise he would really become a sitting duck.
He could only move forward slowly, step by step.
This mental wall was extremely thick, and the further you went in, the more solidified and dense it became, like being trapped in a swamp surrounded by viscous liquid.
He had to struggle through the swamp while also carefully avoiding any bullets that might fly by.
Qingmu was almost certain that this Mental Power was not released by any single person. He could clearly sense that this power lacked a conscious subject, somewhat like the Mental Power attached to the bullet that had just been fired. Moreover, it would be difficult for a single consciousness to release such a massive amount of Mental Power; even if it could, it would be a losing proposition.
Just like Qingmu himself, he would use his Mental Power to hypnotize other people's consciousness, enter their dreams, or interfere with their Mental Power and control parts of their nervous system to influence their behavior. He would never be foolish enough to release his power like a flood, unless he wanted to influence the thoughts of tens of thousands of people in a stadium. But what would be the point of that? That kind of consumption is not something ordinary people can afford, and recovery would be very troublesome.
If it wasn't released by a person, then where did this Mental Power come from?
Qingmu looked up at the piles of rocks on the hilltop that Qiqika called Tapu.
Crow circled in the sky. Judging from its posture, it had probably encountered the same situation. Therefore, this thick spiritual wall was not just a horizontal wall, but a raised hemisphere centered on Tapu.
Therefore, the trajectory left in the sky by the bullet that was shot at the Crow was not the mental trajectory of the bullet's own explosion, but rather the trajectory left when it tore through this heavy mental barrier.
As he approached and his Mental Power expanded, Qingmu confirmed his suspicions. But what surprised him most was that the center of the Tapu was empty. There was no Mental Power there at all, like the eye of a typhoon, surrounded by thick clouds and level twelve storm waves, while the center was peaceful and serene, as if isolated from the world.
Qingmu was quite certain that the sniper with the gun was hiding in the center of this vacuum-like, nerve-wracking storm—among those strange piles of rocks—but he couldn't find the consciousness.
He knew this was a contrast effect, because the concentration of Mental Power on the outside was too high and the interference was too severe. As long as the person hiding inside was careful and did not deliberately release Mental Power, they could hide themselves.
Qingmu squinted and took a few steps forward with force. The invisible thick wall was broken open like the ice of the Arctic Ocean when it encountered an icebreaker.
A bullet flew towards Qingmu.
At this distance, the bullets were coming too fast, Qingmu had to be careful. The moment he was locked onto by the bullet, he suddenly stopped and used his Mental Power to interfere with the bullet's trajectory.
With a "thud," the bullet struck a crevice in the nearby rock.
But a second bullet came right away.
Sensing a great threat, the gunman had no intention of letting him go this time, nor did he intend to test his marksmanship. Instead, he fired several bullets in quick succession.
This was exactly what Qingmu wanted.
He doesn't care how many bullets there are, as long as the bullets are still imbued with Mental Power and their speed hasn't increased, he can control them no matter how many come.
From the faint, fleeting trajectory left when the bullet tore through the mental barrier, Qingmu could determine the sniper's exact location. The reason several trajectories were needed was because the center of Tapu mental barrier was empty; there was no Mental Power there, and the bullet had no trajectory. Qingmu had to fill in the gaps in his mind; a single bullet wasn't enough, at least not precise enough. As for the approximate location, even without using Mental Power, he could have determined it long ago simply from the bullet's direction.
Every single bullet grazed past Qingmu.
Qingmu finally pinpointed the man's location: behind a pile of rocks. The shape and crevices of the rocks there acted like a naturally designed battlefield barrier, allowing the gunman to ambush from behind while remaining unseen by those below the hillside.
The moment the location was determined, Qingmu concentrated his Mental Power and instantly grasped the person's consciousness.
Petru, gun in hand, hid behind a hard rock, and began to seriously doubt his marksmanship.
He had always been very confident, whether during his time as a mercenary or his pirate career, his marksmanship was second to none. However, today, he had missed ten shots in a row, unable to even hit a bird in the sky, and this was despite the Mental Power provided by this Tapu.
He felt that relying on the bullet's mental lock-on function was no longer sufficient, and he had to use a scope.
But when he tried to attach the scope to the gun, he suddenly found himself unable to move. He was certain his blood circulation was normal, and he wasn't numb or injured, yet he couldn't control his muscles and bones, as if his body no longer belonged to him, but was being controlled by another consciousness.
As the man drew nearer, he stared at him in terror, then, using the only remaining muscle in his throat, he uttered a hoarse question:
Who are you?