Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Talent

Because of those toxic mosquitoes, Ling Mo insisted on long sleeves and pants even at home. With the air-conditioning on, it wasn’t too hot, but one bite would make you suffer.

Inside her pocket space, Ling Mo didn’t rest. She started making the rounds, checking on crops and animals.

The vegetables were growing well. In a few days, she could harvest them. Grains like wheat needed more time.

When she passed the orchard, she picked an apple, wiped it on her clothes, and took a bite.

The crops in her pocket space didn’t need pesticides—truly clean food.

The livestock had all grown bigger and were in great shape, plump and lively. They were friendly toward Ling Mo too, not afraid of her at all.

Even the animals she’d brought back from Interstellar were adapting well. The abandoned, unhatched eggs had started hatching over the past few days. Aside from being a little smaller than what she’d seen before, they were healthy.

Ling Mo nodded in satisfaction.

She didn’t know the growth cycle of Interstellar animals, but she knew how it worked for animals on Blue Star.

At this rate, in half a year she’d have chicken, duck, and fish whenever she wanted.

After checking everything, Ling Mo went to look at the seedlings.

The ones she’d planted later had already grown as lush as the first two.

And the very first marrow-cleansing fruit and medicine fruit trees were already in bloom.

Blooming meant fruit was on the way. Her pocket space really was perfect for growing them.

Once she’d finished her rounds, she began studying the machines she’d brought out of the game.

They were ridiculously convenient. A little old, sure, but fully functional—and fully automated.

Before, the pocket space didn’t require manual labor, but harvesting only happened when she thought to do it. If she forgot, ripe crops would just sit there.

With these machines, that problem disappeared.

They could identify what needed doing—seeding, watering, harvesting—on their own.

The chicken, duck, and goose pens could be fed automatically too, cleaned, and even had eggs collected.

After one last check, Ling Mo finally left her pocket space.

With the air-conditioning blasting at home, she didn’t feel any discomfort when she returned.

She turned on the TV. They were reporting what happened at the mall, and all the suspects had already been arrested.

On the screen, a huge bolt of purple lightning slammed into a criminal, killing him on the spot.

All Ling Mo could think was: Incredible.

But could someone who’d just awakened really be that powerful?

On the learning machine, she’d looked up talent classifications.

In Interstellar, talents were divided into four types. The first was elemental-type talent—water, fire, earth, wind, light, lightning, ice, wood, and the like.

The second was body enhancement—your body becoming far stronger than a normal person’s, or a specific part or sense being enhanced: hands, feet, eyes, ears, nose, even your voice.

The third was mental, like Ling Mo’s psychic-type talent. Under that were many subtypes, such as mind link and mind control.

Overall, psychic-type talent was the parent category; anyone who awakened it could potentially develop abilities like mind link or mind control.

The last category was special-type talent. Things like pocket space and healing fell under that.

Ling Mo looked back at the TV and noticed something else: the lightning user was accompanied by a petite girl.

Ling Mo suspected the girl had awakened a blessing-type talent.

It was even rarer than healing talent. Like healers, it had little offensive power, and it couldn’t mend injuries either. Its only role was boosting a companion’s combat strength.

But blessing talents had many subtypes, and Ling Mo had no idea which one the girl possessed.

“After this, the people lurking in the shadows should calm down for a while.”

She checked her phone. The internet was still a complete mess.

Some people were doom-posting and telling everyone to live for today. Others swore the apocalypse was coming and urged everyone to stockpile—if you couldn’t stockpile yourself to death, then stockpile like your life depended on it.

Ling Mo even saw plenty of posts begging for help.

Some had driven out to fight for supplies, only for their car to break down halfway. When they tried to find a mechanic, either they couldn’t find one at all, or the one they found demanded a sky-high price.

And everyone knew money was losing its bite. Having cash didn’t guarantee you could buy anything, so the gougers weren’t asking for money—they wanted supplies.

People cursed them online, but no one responded.

Others posted SOS messages. The heat was too intense; their elderly family members or children couldn’t take it and had passed out from heatstroke. The ambulance still wasn’t coming, and they begged anyone nearby to help drive them to the hospital.

Those pleas went unanswered too.

It wasn’t hard to see why. It was so hot that most cars couldn’t handle it, and on top of that, gas prices were climbing fast.

Ling Mo glanced at the electric scooter charging in her living room.

She’d noticed it too. Lately, even a single trip out drained the battery much faster than before, and her phone’s battery dropped quickly as well.

And this scooter was brand new. Even though she had more in her pocket space, she couldn’t afford to burn through them like this.

She made up her mind. Tomorrow she’d buy more electric scooters.

Money couldn’t buy much food now anyway. She might as well spend it on other things.

Just then, another notification popped up.

It said the day’s temperature had already broken 60°C, warning everyone to watch for heatstroke, and included a photo of an overcrowded hospital.

Over 60°C… no wonder today felt unbearable.

Ling Mo opened the game forum again, scrolled for a while, then checked her messages.

She’d expected a lot, but the “999+” notification still startled her.

There were all kinds: people trying to butter her up, freeloaders, moral blackmailers, and even some looking for “support.”

Ling Mo blocked the first three types. As for the last kind, she pretended she hadn’t seen them. Compared to the others, they weren’t quite as unforgivable.

At least… the girls had nice figures.

Ling Mo wiped at the corner of her mouth as if there were drool there. Her disguise must be working, because they all thought she was a man.

The rest just wanted to keep buying machines from her.