Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Combat Power Detection

Wang Jie stared out the window as their vehicle rolled smoothly through the Shang Jing City base. Unlike Jin Ling Base, there was no obvious split between a clean zone and a wastewater zone.

“I don’t know,” he said at last.

Wen Zhao glanced at him. “What is Bai Yuan’s sword art like?”

Qing Zheng snorted. “Even if he told you, would you recognize it?”

“I probably would,” Wen Zhao said, confident.

Qing Zheng leaned back. “Uncle Liu, tell her.”

Uncle Liu shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Qing Zheng blinked. “You’re a Sixth Seal expert, and you’ve been around Shang Jing City. You don’t know Bai Yuan’s sword art?”

Uncle Liu’s tone stayed flat. “Everyone who’s seen it is dead. Most of the time, you won’t even see his sword.”

Qing Zheng spread his hands. “Then there you go.”

Wen Zhao didn’t press further.

They still had time before Zuo Tian arrived in Shang Jing City, and Wang Jie had a priority.

He needed to build a hunting squad.

In the past two years, he’d replayed too many memories and finally admitted where he’d gone wrong.

He’d overestimated himself and underestimated his enemies.

He’d acted alone—too alone—and never learned how to borrow strength from outside his own hands.

As mutated creatures grew stronger and more dangerous, hunting squads had steadily gained power and privileges. They could access intelligence from every base before others. They could apply for aircraft use, flight routes, communications permissions, priority exchanges—everything.

At the very top, a hunting squad could wield more influence than a base.

The number-one hunting squad was Duan Ren Hunting Squad, created by Zuo Tian.

People didn’t trust bases to protect them anymore. They trusted hunting squads.

Because the best fighters—the real elites—gathered there.

A base fought for survival.

A hunting squad fought for the individual.

That was the difference.

To register a hunting squad, you needed a hundred points. Each point represented an unregistered disaster material at Third Seal or higher.

In other words, you needed to find one hundred Third Seal-or-higher disaster materials that no hunting squad had previously filed.

For Qing Zheng, it was trivial. Shou Qing Group’s Shang Jing City branch had stockpiles of disaster materials. They could just use those.

And those materials didn’t have to be turned over to the base. They remained the hunting squad’s property.

Wang Jie registered their squad under a simple name:

Blue Star.

Blue Star Hunting Squad: members Wang Jie, Qing Zheng, Guan Dao—Old Five—and Feng Jiu—Old Nine.

Once the registration went through, Qing Zheng began sweeping up disaster materials like a man possessed. Anything Shou Qing Group had on hand, he claimed. Anything they didn’t, he bought.

Nobody cared where disaster materials came from anymore.

If you could get them, that was the only truth that mattered.

Shou Qing Group had its own hunting squad too—Shou Qing Hunting Squad—which ranked high among Hua Xia’s hunting squads. Even they relied on buying.

But buying wasn’t sustainable.

Disaster materials were too valuable. The prices were brutal, and few people wanted to sell.

Even when someone did, the Shang Jing City base usually bought it first.

And the higher you climbed, the more absurd the point requirements became.

Most of the top ten hunting squads had been around for years—some since early in the apocalypse—collecting and filing disaster materials until their stockpiles became monstrous.

Reaching the top ten was when a hunting squad started to matter.

Wang Jie made his decision. “Tomorrow we go hunt mutated creatures.”

“Why not today?” Qing Zheng complained. “It’s still early. We can take an aircraft out now.”

Wang Jie didn’t budge. “Tomorrow.”

Because today, he had his own problem.

He’d spent the last two days asking around and learned Shang Jing City had a so-called romance holy ground. Tonight, he was going there to gather Sweet Tears.

That night, Wang Jie slipped out.

Old Five, Old Nine, and Qing Zheng followed.

“What do you think Old Boss is doing?” Old Nine whispered.

“Who knows,” Old Five said. “But I’m telling you—Old Boss actually asked Lian Fei to write him a proposal letter.”

Old Nine choked. “What? That’s a thing?”

“You should’ve told me earlier!”

“Mind your business.”

Old Nine frowned. “Lian Qin wants to marry into our family. What do you think?”

“…Fine,” Old Five muttered. “I’m calling old dad. Lian Fei should marry Old Boss. Old Boss finally likes someone.”

Old Nine hesitated. “Wait. Something about this feels off.”

“Come on,” Old Five said. “Maybe Old Boss is on a date with her right now.”

Old Nine nodded solemnly. “Proposal letter means Old Boss wants ceremony.”

“Exactly.”

Meanwhile, Wang Jie crouched in the shadows and waited.

He’d learned his lesson—he wasn’t going to wait for nothing. The moment he saw a couple, he stepped out and stared the man down.

“Propose,” he said.

The girl recoiled. “Brother, we’ve only known each other three days.”

“Try it,” Wang Jie said. “Maybe it’ll work. But there have to be tears.”

The man swallowed. “I… I can’t cry.”

“Make her cry.”

The man stared at him.

The girl hissed under her breath, “Bro, I was about to break up with him.”

“Propose,” Wang Jie repeated.

The man’s voice shook. “This isn’t great. Who are you to her?”

“I’m telling you—propose.”

He stamped once.

The ground cracked.

The man went pale. “Okay, bro. I understand.”

It wasn’t until deep into the night that Wang Jie finally collected enough Sweet Tears.

He felt like he’d just fought an army.

Counting everything so far, he had five materials. The easiest had been Villain’s Severed Palm.

And he still didn’t know how long the rest would take.

The proposal letters were even worse.

He returned to his room and collapsed into sleep.

He didn’t know how much time passed before the door slammed open and Old Five rushed in.

“Old Boss!” Old Five blurted. “Wen Zhao went out.”

Wang Jie sprang upright. “Where?”

“Outside the base. A Trialist showed up—someone from Shang Jing City tipped her off.”

Wang Jie was already moving.

Outside the Shang Jing City base, under a hundred curious stares, a chubby boy lounged on a stone bench with his eyes closed.

He wore exquisite black battle armor that swallowed sunlight instead of reflecting it. No one needed telling—this wasn’t Blue Star craftsmanship.

Over his left eye sat a dark green lens with shifting numbers pulsing across it. It looked so advanced it barely felt real.

Bai Yuan stood below the wall, hands behind his back, watching the boy.

When Wen Zhao arrived, Bai Yuan’s gaze flicked to her. “Do you know him?”

The numbers on the boy’s lens jumped. Beeps sounded in quick succession. He opened his eyes and grinned as soon as he saw Wen Zhao.

“Wen family miss!” he called, waving enthusiastically. “What a coincidence. You’re here!”

His grin widened. “And congratulations—Eighth Seal.”

Wen Zhao’s eyes narrowed. “You.”

“You know him?” Bai Yuan asked.

Before Wen Zhao could answer, the chubby boy bounded over, cheerful as if he’d come for tea. “Not bad, Wen family miss. You’re actually hanging out with these natives. Come on, tell them I’m a good person—a kind, good person.”

“What are you doing here?” Wen Zhao asked.

The boy pointed at the city. “This is the biggest force in the trial grounds. Plenty of disaster materials, right? I’m here to buy.”

Bai Yuan looked from him to Wen Zhao. Trialists knowing each other was normal. But Wen Zhao’s caution was unmistakable.

By the time Wang Jie arrived, they were already talking price.

The goods the chubby boy showed were simply too tempting.

“Combat Power Detector?” Wang Jie took the dark lens Bai Yuan handed him and fitted it over his own eye.

Numbers jumped.

He looked at Bai Yuan.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The number stabilized at 500.

The chubby boy grinned. “Five hundred is the minimum for Seventh Seal. A cultivator who’s just reached Single Seal scores a one. The higher the realm, the higher the number.”

He lifted a finger. “But don’t mistake it for true combat power. The number jumps during battle, and it rises and falls with imprint power.”

Wang Jie understood immediately why Bai Yuan was interested. With this, you could locate stronger mutated beasts faster—and you’d get an early warning before something too dangerous got close.

The boy looked pleased. “Useful, right, Wen family miss?”

Wang Jie glanced at Wen Zhao.

Wen Zhao nodded. “In the universe, many cultivators wear these.”

“Exactly,” the boy said smugly.

Wen Zhao’s gaze stayed cool. “But the more elite you are, the less you rely on it. It can mislead you.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Can we not do the elite lecture here?”

Then his voice sharpened, the grin fading into something more serious. “No offense, but you all should understand your position. You’re big shots on Blue Star, sure, but compared to the great powers of the universe, you’re bottom-rung.”

He tapped the lens. “And sooner or later, you’ll be sent to the interstellar battlefield.”

“In the interstellar battlefield, the most important thing is running. Don’t dream about fighting, or merit, or glory. That’s all nonsense. Living is what matters.”

“So if you can add tools now, add them. Don’t regret it later.”

Before Wen Zhao could reply, he thrust another lens into her hand. “Wen family miss—this one’s on me. Good luck in this trial.”

Wen Zhao accepted it with a faint smile and said nothing.

Bai Yuan and Wang Jie both saw what the boy was doing—buying Wen Zhao’s silence. He was hiding something.

But the warning he’d given wasn’t wrong.

Wang Jie handed the lens back to Bai Yuan.

Bai Yuan gestured politely. “Shall we discuss this inside the city?”

The boy agreed without hesitation, as if the idea of being surrounded didn’t even register.

As he followed Bai Yuan toward the gates, he glanced back at Wen Zhao’s leg.

“Friendly reminder,” he said lightly. “That thing on you isn’t just tracking. It’s analyzing your power.”

Wen Zhao didn’t react.

Bai Yuan didn’t either, as if the accusation bounced off empty air.

Wang Jie watched the boy’s back. “Who is he?”

Wen Zhao answered evenly. “Milky Way Defense Corporation.”

“Qi Wu.”

“Milky Way… corporation?” Wang Jie echoed.

“It’s what you’d call it,” Wen Zhao said. “A commercial consortium that manufactures combat equipment. They participate in trials and sell gear.”

Wang Jie nodded slowly. “If he can enter a Jia Yi Sect trial, he’s not weak.”

Wen Zhao didn’t add anything.

In the city, Old Five and the others caught up. It was time to hunt.

Shou Qing Group had aircraft stationed in all five major bases—more than one.

They boarded and flew two hundred kilometers out, into the true danger zone where mutated creatures thrived.

The Combat Power Detector Wen Zhao received saved them time immediately.

They landed in a forest of towering trees—some normal, most mutated. But mutated didn’t always mean hostile.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

The detector kept sounding, now perched over Wang Jie’s eye.

He turned his head. “Eight hundred meters to the right—a Seventh Seal mutated beast.”

“Two kilometers out—cluster of Fifth Seal creatures.”

“Split up,” he ordered. “Move.”

For two straight days, they hunted in the danger zone without pause.

With Wen Zhao and Wang Jie’s strength, they didn’t have to worry unless they ran into something at the absolute pinnacle—like the moon plant they’d encountered before.

Everything else died in a handful of moves.

And during those two days, Old Two—Qing Zheng—pushed through to Seventh Seal.