Translator: AnubisTL
"..."
Inside the Stellaris train, Chen Mang sat alone, gazing into the vast depths of space. He remained silent, his mind still grappling with the mystery. All he knew for certain was that the Tier 10 telescope had slipped through his fingers. How it ended up in the hands of that portly man's father, light-years away, remained a complete enigma.
So much had happened recently.
Might as well relax for now.
It had been far too long since he'd allowed himself to unwind.
Back during the apocalypse, relaxation had been a regular occurrence. Though resources were scarce, life had been simpler. Since leaving Aquablue Star, however, things had become increasingly hectic, leaving him with less and less downtime.
He'd almost forgotten what it meant to relax.
"Xiao Ai, summon Ji Chuchu and Yan Yao."
"Understood."
It had been so long since he'd called for them that Ji Chuchu's name sounded almost foreign to him.
Soon enough, Ji Chuchu and Yan Yao entered the locomotive cabin together, followed by a line of women as beautiful as celestial immortals.
"What's this?"
"These were sent from Black Tortoise Star last time, Lord Mang, but you haven't had a chance to enjoy them yet."
"Ah, that's right," Chen Mang nodded, having completely forgotten about them. He casually grabbed a handful of red heart nuts from a drawer and popped them into his mouth as a snack before waving his hand. "Let's start with a tune to liven things up."
Meanwhile—
Countless light-years away,
An elderly man sat in his study, furiously writing. Suddenly, his pen ran out of ink, causing him to frown slightly. Ever since waking up yesterday, he had felt restless, as if something ominous was about to happen.
This minor incident only deepened his sense of foreboding.
Without hesitation, he dialed the Southern Frontier guard team he had hired at great expense. "Report," he demanded.
A response came quickly.
"All is well. The Young Master is happily repairing his armed robot. No issues whatsoever. Any pirates approaching the mining star will be eliminated immediately."
The elderly man finally let out a slight sigh of relief. "Maintain vigilance. Upon successful completion of the mission, the final payment will be delivered along with a substantial bonus."
"Understood."
Only after confirming that his unfilial son was safe did the old man pour himself a cup of hot tea. Yet a persistent unease lingered in his heart, as if something were pressing down on it.
Could it be that my body urgently needs repair?
In a daze, the old man retrieved a device from his pocket and inserted its needle-like probe into his body. He monitored his vital signs in real-time. Despite his vast wealth, he still had to wait until his body was truly failing before undergoing repairs.
Even the wealthiest individuals faced the same constraint.
It had nothing to do with money.
The longer one delayed repairs, the longer one could live.
To this day, no civilization has discovered a method for achieving true Eternal Life. Perhaps such a method should never exist. Even the universe itself is not eternal; how could anything born within it attain immortality?
This includes—
cultivation civilizations.
Even after achieving the Immortal Emperor realm in cultivation civilizations, the "Eternal Life" they sought was merely longevity on par with the universe itself. When the universe perished, their lifespans would end as well. It was not true transcendence beyond all things.
Everything in the universe is dependent on the universe itself.
The old man sat back down at his desk, flipping through the various books and notes scattered across its surface. He had recently acquired something extraordinary: an artifact from a 6th-tier cultivation civilization.
This was no small matter.
His current civilization, the Fifth-Tier Nami Civilization, had only existed for 5,000 years. A 6th-tier cultivation civilization, on the other hand, would require at least millions, if not tens of millions, of years to develop. It would need vast stretches of time to accumulate its power.
Moreover, cultivation civilizations typically follow an extremely uneven developmental curve. In their early stages, at Civilization Levels 1, 2, and 3, they are laughably weak, barely able to withstand any civilization of comparable tier. Even if they eventually become formidable, under the current structure of cosmic civilization, early weakness inevitably means no later stages.
When everyone can step on you, how can you ever reach those later stages?
He had no intention of putting this artifact up for auction in his "Auction House." It would draw too much attention. Instead, he planned to study it himself.
He owned numerous enterprises.
But what truly made him wealthy—and remains his most profitable venture to this day—is the Fengtian Auction House. It generates massive annual profits, and everyone wants to know how he acquires such rare artifacts.
He commands several trains that constantly traverse the cosmos, scouring every corner of the universe for scattered treasures.
But—
All of this is merely a facade.
His true source of these rare items lies in...
The old man slowly set down his pen, still feeling restless. He glanced down and pulled open a drawer, his eyes landing on a teapot that had mysteriously appeared there. A smile crept across his face—another new find.
It appeared to be a product of a cultivation civilization.
Its exact nature would require further analysis.
Yes.
The treasure that launched his empire was this very drawer—this drawer belonging to the desk. It was a desk he had purchased for a pittance at a secondhand furniture market during his days of decline.
One night, while working late, he accidentally splattered a drop of his nosebleed onto the desk.
A miraculous event unfolded.
The desk suddenly emitted a golden glow, and the drawer sprang open on its own.
From that day forward, various items began appearing in the drawer at irregular intervals. Some were special items of immense value, others were original blueprints for accessories never seen or developed within the Nami Civilization, and still others were artifacts from other advanced civilizations.
For instance, there was once a painting by an artist from a Tier 9 Civilization that fetched an astronomical price at auction.
A Tier 9 Civilization was not necessarily a God-Tier Civilization, but a God-Tier Civilization was always a Tier 9 Civilization. There was no faking it.
The painting bore both the artist's mark and the Civilization Imprint of the Tier 9 Civilization. A mere glance at it conveyed an overwhelming sense of oppressive power.
Using these items, he slowly established his first Auction House. The rarity of the auctioned goods quickly earned him a reputation in the industry.
Everyone wondered about his acquisition channels.
Only he knew the truth: he had struck gold. Fate had smiled upon him.
For the first time, he believed the Goddess of Fate truly existed. The first item to appear in the drawer was a telescope upgraded to Tier 10. From that moment, the gears of his destiny began to turn slowly.
As time passed, his work grew increasingly demanding, and his business expanded rapidly.
The number of Cosmic Gifts appearing in his drawer multiplied.
Yet, he never sold the telescope. It remained on his desk, a constant reminder of his past.
Partly because it wouldn't fetch much money, but more importantly, because it was the first "gift" Fate had bestowed upon him. It held immense sentimental value, marking the turning point in his life.
But one day—
His telescope vanished without a trace.
He searched frantically for days, his anger and fear mounting. He worried that he hadn't merely lost a telescope, but that Fate had withdrawn its mercy, that his drawer would never again yield any Cosmic Gifts.
His fledgling voyage was about to crash once more.
Fortunately, perhaps because of the hardships he had already endured, the Goddess of Fate spared him another catastrophe.
He locked himself in his study for three days.
Only after the drawer continued to endlessly produce Cosmic Gifts throughout those three days did he finally breathe a sigh of relief. The Goddess of Fate remained by his side.
Yes.
He named these items "Cosmic Gifts." He didn't know where they came from or why they appeared in his drawer.
Until one day!
The old man's cloudy pupils gradually dilated, his thoughts drifting as he gazed at the fading words on the paper. That must have been the greatest crisis he faced after building his business empire. He had always kept a low profile after making his fortune, knowing his acquisition methods were illegitimate and would attract unwanted attention if exposed.
He had been as discreet as possible.
Yet something still happened.
At an auction, someone suddenly pointed out that all the items being auctioned were "Cosmic Forbidden Items."
At the time, he didn't understand what "Cosmic Forbidden Items" meant and hastily stood up to explain.
Later, he learned the truth.
In the cosmos, there existed a phenomenon called "temporal rifts." These rifts, like cracks in the skin of reality, occasionally appeared, often leading to the past.
However, the intervals were never too long.
Temporal rifts don't last long.
Moreover, they tend to be confined to extremely narrow spaces, making it impossible to alter the timeline. They're considered a minor to moderate bug in the universe.
If he had a proper education, teachers would have covered these concepts in school.
Unfortunately, he hadn't attended much schooling and remained ignorant of these so-called common knowledge.
Afterward—
If an ordinary object is thrown into a temporal rift, it will return to the past. At that point, the object becomes a bug within this universe.
Because—
Theoretically, the object has appeared in the wrong spacetime, a realm it doesn't belong to.
At this moment—
The object becomes a "Cosmic Forbidden Item," an anomalous existence within the universe. While still usable like any normal item, its name undergoes a slight alteration.
And his drawer!
The drawer he relied on for survival could randomly generate any Cosmic Forbidden Item from across the universe.
Of course—
Many unexpected occurrences also arose.
For instance, an item he had once sold mysteriously vanished from the buyer's vault, only to reappear in his drawer. Though handling the situation was tricky, he managed to resolve it discreetly, avoiding any major scandal.
He didn't know who had coined the term "Cosmic Forbidden Item."
But he always sensed there was more to it than just a name. The term implied something deeper than mere classification.
Through the drawer, he periodically obtained documents and historical records from various civilizations. Though he lacked formal education, his understanding of cosmic civilizations now rivaled that of university professors.
He learned that several civilizations had once spent vast sums to acquire "Cosmic Forbidden Items" without limit, accepting any item that qualified.
Some had even hired the "Goblin Civilization" for this purpose.
The process involved first locating a temporal rift, tossing in massive quantities of ordinary objects, and then sending goblins through the rift to retrieve the items that had transformed into "Cosmic Forbidden Items," thus mass-producing them.
In the cosmos, only the "Goblin Civilization" and the "Cultivation Civilization" could safely traverse temporal rifts.
The former could almost ignore the effects of temporal distortion, while the latter possessed vast lifespans to resist the erosion of time.
Other civilizations were unable to enter temporal rifts.
Upon entering, they would age rapidly and die before they could exit.
Physically traversing a temporal rift was an exceedingly difficult feat, even for a train.
In the cosmos, all secrets could be unraveled through a single method:
Finding differences and finding commonalities.
The civilizations that had extensively acquired or manufactured Cosmic Forbidden Items were invariably Tier 9 Civilizations.
This single piece of information was already sufficient.
The Nami Civilization, a Fifth-Tier Civilization, had access to the restricted-level Civilization Library, a repository of immense value. Nearly all information about other civilizations currently known to the Nami Civilization was stored within this library.
The library was not open to the public.
Its primary purpose was preservation and transmission of knowledge to future generations.
Only authorized personnel were permitted to access its contents.
Having visited the library himself, he knew that information about advanced civilizations was exceedingly scarce. Even information about Sixth-Tier Civilizations—just one tier higher—was virtually nonexistent. The information barriers between civilizations grew exponentially with each tier of difference.
His understanding of advanced civilizations was even more limited than his own.
This explained why the "painting" from a Tier 9 Civilization had fetched such an astronomical price back when he was just starting out. He hadn't grasped its true value at the time, nearly causing a major disaster. Although the money from the painting ultimately slipped through his fingers, it opened doors to countless opportunities. His business thrived, receiving continuous support and guidance, propelling him to become a renowned entrepreneur.
But
After acquiring more artifacts from advanced civilizations, he dared not sell them again. The prices were too high, and selling them would not only yield little profit but also draw unwanted attention.
A business can't grow too big.
If it does, it's no longer your own.
It becomes someone else's.
In this civilization with strict regulations on private armed forces, civilization itself loomed over him like a mountain. No matter how much wealth he accumulated, he remained a walking blood bank. The moment someone's child wanted to start their own venture, he would be forced to step aside.
But
"Sigh."
The old man sighed deeply, gazing wearily at the books stacked on his desk. Though his lifespan could extend for centuries, he was preparing to gradually hand over his business to his son.
Unlike others, he hadn't fathered a dozen children to select the perfect heir. Perhaps because he had risen from humble beginnings, he valued familial bonds above all else. He couldn't bear the thought of his children tearing each other apart over wealth. One child was enough—one child to inherit all his riches and secrets.
Money was no object.
His wealth rivaled that of entire nations. To put it bluntly, the combined wealth of a Third-Tier Civilization might not even match his own.
Yet he dared not spend it.
Nor was there anywhere to spend it.
Without building a train, his current fortune could sustain him in extreme luxury for nearly a million years, with every conceivable comfort.
Of course, he hadn't told his son about the family's immense wealth. It was simply too much to explain—he feared frightening the boy.
He had once gathered the children of Tier 4 Suppliers, hoping they would play with his son and alleviate his loneliness. But his son had dismissed them as spoiled rich kids whose flamboyant behavior he disliked.
Hearing this, he felt utterly helpless.
That was just the child of a Tier 4 Supplier. Above them were Tier 3, Tier 2, and First-Level Suppliers, all of whom depended on his father for their livelihoods. You are the true heir of wealth.
The gifts of fate always come with an invisible price tag.
Although the Desk hadn't demanded anything from him yet, he had a nagging feeling that when it finally made its request, he would be unable to refuse, nor would he want to. He didn't know how much longer he had to live and only wished to pass on his wealth and legacy to his son as soon as possible.
He had never believed anything in this world came for free.
But he had no choice.
As long as his wife and son could live happily, free from financial worries, it would be enough. What did these sacrifices matter?
---
"Tell me."
Meanwhile, aboard a train drifting through the Cosmic Pseudo-Four-Dimensional Space, a young man with long hair suddenly mused, "Boss, if his dad can afford to hire us for this much, wouldn't we make even more if we kidnapped him?"
"One last job, then retirement?"
"..."
The scarred man in the driver's seat spoke coldly, his expression unchanging. "In our line of work, the worst thing you can do is say you'll retire after one last job. That last job rarely ends well."
"Besides, how many times have I taught you?"
"Love what you do."
"Keep your promises, and you'll sleep soundly and eat well. Live simply, and you'll be much happier."
"Go. More pirates are coming. Prepare to engage."
"Wait," the long-haired young man said, scratching his head in frustration. "Why are so many pirates coming to this mining star? Is there something special about it? Staying in Pseudo-Fourth Dimensional Space for this long consumes a lot of resources. With all these pirates, we can't end up losing money on this job, right?"
"The escort fee is 100 billion per day. If we lose money on this, you can retire right now. Enough talk, get to work!"
---
"Finally fixed it!"
On the mining star, the young, chubby man stretched contentedly after repairing his robot. He gazed up at the sun overhead. It was a beautiful day, and he had specifically chosen a mining star near a star.
Though the pay was slightly lower, the comfort was worth it.
Some mining stars had such harsh environments that, while they offered higher pay, the conditions were simply uninhabitable.
What puzzled him slightly was this:
He had heard that pirates frequently raided mining stars, stealing all the extracted resource mines. He had initially been worried, but after so long, he hadn't encountered a single pirate.
Had the pirates overlooked their mining star?
Or was it possible that...
There weren't actually as many pirates in the cosmos as people claimed?
That made sense.
Why would so many people choose to become pirates? It was incredibly dangerous. Wouldn't it be better to have a proper job? Even if the pay wasn't great, at least you could live in peace.
Inside the Stellaris train's locomotive cabin, Chen Mang, having finished his health-boosting exercises and stress-relieving activities, returned to work mode. He gazed at the Doppler Radar screen, admiring the Arcanon Main Cannon—a dao of destruction hurtling through the Cosmic Void, still tens of thousands of years away from reaching the Niya Star System.
After traveling for countless millions, or perhaps even billions, of years, the Arcanon Light Energy Main Cannon's destructive power had reached an utterly absurd level.
Upon reaching the Niya Star System, it was estimated to instantly annihilate the entire galaxy, with the devastation spreading even further, plunging the surrounding region into chaos for tens of thousands of years to come.
But—
If one could ignore the devastating consequences of the Light Energy Cannon and simply appreciate its spectacle, it was actually quite impressive.
He wasn't worried about it.
The distance was too vast.
This was something that would happen tens of thousands of years in the future. By then, he'd be long gone, so there was no need to concern himself with it for now.
He glanced at the Zerg Civilization again.
Still no movement. They didn't seem ready yet, which suited him perfectly, as he needed more time himself. He checked the mining progress on the mining stars—it was progressing rapidly thanks to the massive deployment of Mining Robots.
It's worth noting that—
The nearly ten thousand civilizations within the Kasha Civilization Federation had completely polarized.
Those that had adopted a policy of non-resistance had already relocated to the 27th Galaxy, the galaxy closest to the Zerg Civilization. In recent days, numerous civilizations had also sent negotiation requests to the "human civilization."
However, these civilizations couldn't reach him directly and were forced to spread their messages through forums and other channels.
He ignored them all.
It wasn't time for negotiations yet.
Just as Chen Mang was about to review his recent work, a refrigerator in the corner of the locomotive cabin began flashing red. This refrigerator was a portal to the Starfire Civilization.
Inside, a red light was connected by a cable.
If the Starfire Civilization had an urgent message, the red light would illuminate.
It was a basic but reliable communication method.
Cables.
A relatively primitive means of signal transmission, yet perfectly suited for use within a refrigerator. It was an ingenious solution, enabling instantaneous communication across countless light-years—far simpler and more convenient than routing cables through wormholes. After all, the refrigerator offered a stable, non-hostile environment.
"Hmm?"
Chen Mang raised an eyebrow, immediately setting aside his work. He strode into the refrigerator with the elder, Xiao Ai, and the others, arriving in the Starfire Civilization. There, they quickly spotted the Starfire Civilization Leader hurrying toward them, his face etched with anxiety.
"Chen Mang."
The Leader's usual composure had vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of urgency and panic. Even his footsteps were hurried and uneven. "We've encountered a minor issue."
"The Starfire Civilization has always traveled to the far corners of the universe through random wormholes."
"This is the ability of the Cosmic Behemoth beneath us."
"But this time—"
"It seems we've randomly arrived at an extraordinary place. The random teleportation ability cannot be used continuously or activated manually. It's a passive action of the Xuanwu beneath us, and even he can't control it."
"..."
A flicker of surprise crossed Chen Mang's eyes. He knew the Starfire Civilization wandered the cosmos through random teleportation, but he hadn't realized they couldn't actively control this ability.
It sounds...
A bit like a weaker, uncontrolled version of Mundo.
Mundo's random teleportation is controllable but limited to a single planet, unable to transport him across the cosmos.
If that's the case...
Wouldn't Cosmic Behemoths of the Xuanwu species be separated from their parents soon after birth?
But there was no time to dwell on that now.
Following the direction pointed out by the Leader of the Starfire Civilization, he gazed into the distance. His entire body froze instantly, his mouth slowly opening in involuntary shock. At that moment, he finally understood why the Leader of the Starfire Civilization was so frantic.
Even... terrified?!
The scene before him defied all logic and shattered his understanding of reality.
Bright. Utterly blindingly bright.
The entire sky was illuminated.
Amidst the overwhelming light, he could barely make out a colossal sphere that dominated nearly the entire sky. Yet even through the glare, he could discern that this massive shadow was a... palace!
Yes, a palace.
Though distant, its surface structures remained remarkably clear. He could clearly see the "giant pillars," though he couldn't fathom how tall or massive they must be to remain visible from such a distance.
The spacetime around the palace's surface shimmered with distortion, creating an otherworldly spectacle.
This palace possessed the ability to reflect starlight, making it the brightest planet in the night sky.
He finally understood why the Leader of the Starfire Civilization was so terrified.
What the hell is that thing?!
Had they just glimpsed the Heavenly Palace?
"Wait for me. I'll bring the train over."
Without another word, Chen Mang turned and strode toward the refrigerator. He needed to use the radar for a thorough scan; the naked eye couldn't reveal enough.
Soon—
He brought the train over.
The Heavenly Palace quickly materialized on the Doppler Radar screen, its various parameters displayed.
The palace was colossal, nearly the size of Aquablue Star. Calling it a Heavenly Palace was no exaggeration.
Such a structure couldn't possibly have arisen naturally in the cosmos, could it?
While anything was theoretically possible in the universe, could something so clearly crafted have emerged from the depths of space? This was almost certainly the work of another civilization.
But—
"No lifeform signals detected."
Outside the train, Chen Mang pointed to the screen mounted on the hull, addressing the Leader of the Starfire Civilization. "My radar shows the Heavenly Palace is currently uninhabited. There's no one inside."
"Two possibilities," he continued.
"First, it's genuinely empty."
"Second, my radar can't detect them."
His Doppler Radar was at Tier 200, with a detection range of 100,000 light-years. For a Second-Tier Civilization, this was more than sufficient, though he currently possessed the resources to upgrade it to Tier 500.
But he had no intention of upgrading it further.
Ever since learning about the existence of "Cosmic Landmines," he had come to view the entire universe as a game of Minesweeper. A higher Radar Level wasn't necessarily a good thing; no one could predict what kind of "mines" it might uncover.
Tier 200 was sufficient for now.
No further upgrades were necessary.
Yet...
Though reason suppressed his desire to explore, his instincts urged him to take a closer look.
Who could resist investigating that?
A Heavenly Palace drifting through space!
It might be a secret base left behind by an advanced civilization, brimming with treasures and riches.
"No one should be here?"
The Leader of the Starfire Civilization let out a long sigh of relief, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. To be honest, when he had first randomly teleported to this area, he had nearly lost his soul in terror. His immediate thought was that he had stumbled into the homeworld of some advanced civilization.
He quickly contacted Chen Mang, planning to flee to Chen Mang's territory as soon as possible.
His detection methods confirmed that the Heavenly Palace was indeed empty.
He gradually calmed down.
If anyone had been present, their sudden appearance would have surely drawn attention and brought trouble.
"That's great!"
The Leader of the Starfire Civilization immediately turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Chen Mang asked, grabbing his arm.
"To run in the opposite direction, wait for the next random teleport, and get out of here as fast as possible!"
"Don't you want to go up and take a look?"
"Absolutely not."
The Leader of the Starfire Civilization shook his head without hesitation. "The third law of cosmic survival: all curiosity is the Death God's curse."
"Really not curious?"
"Not at all."
"..."
Chen Mang fell silent, his gaze lingering on the colossal palace that dominated half the sky. He genuinely wanted to explore it, but it was clearly a relic of some advanced civilization.
Even if it appeared empty now, who knew what unknown entities might still lurk within?
Advanced civilizations could crush Low-Tier Civilizations with dimensional reduction.
This wasn't just numerical superiority; it was a complete dominance in rules, methods, and understanding.
He, too, felt a growing reluctance to investigate.
Yet he still wanted to look.
After pondering for a long while, he retrieved several refrigerators from the train and launched them into the depths of space, letting them drift freely. In the end, he abandoned the idea of exploring himself; the danger was simply too great, an entirely unknown entity.
No one could know what lay inside.
However—
He could leave a few refrigerators behind for now. In a few days, he could find some brave warriors to enter the Palace and investigate the situation, or wait until his own strength grew before returning to examine it.
"What do you think that thing might be?" Chen Mang asked, turning to the Leader of the Starfire Civilization. "A place where the upper echelons of an advanced civilization indulged themselves, or perhaps the cosmic tomb of some big shot?"
"Neither seems likely," the Leader of the Starfire Civilization replied, shaking his head. "I suspect it's more like a Civilization Tomb."
"A Civilization Tomb? What's that?"
"When a civilization faces inevitable destruction, they often preserve their history, culture, and other legacies in a single location, then let it drift through space until another civilization discovers it."
"It's like leaving behind their history in the cosmos."
"It's not an uncommon practice. Many civilizations wish to preserve their history, even after their demise."
"This could be it."
Chen Mang nodded, understanding the sentiment. The Mechanical Civilization, with Princess Tuotuo at its helm, had clung to its final obsession before its destruction: to leave behind an accurate record of its history.
"So, if what you're saying is true, does that mean everything inside is valuable?"
"Not necessarily."
The Leader of the Starfire Civilization shook his head again. "If this truly is a Civilization Tomb, then a structure of this scale must belong to a civilization of considerable Tier. Typically, such tombs are guarded by layers of trials to prevent civilizations of insufficient strength from entering."
"In other words—"
"Whether this is a Civilization Tomb or not, it harbors immense dangers within."
"My advice is to stay as far away as possible."
"In the cosmos, even the greatest opportunities cannot grant you eternal life. Yet even the smallest crisis can ensure you never see tomorrow's sun."
"When opportunity and danger coexist, it's like mixing shit and chocolate. You can't eat a mouthful of shit just for a taste of chocolate."
Chen Mang tilted his head, a peculiar expression on his face as he glanced at the Leader of the Starfire Civilization. "I must say, there's a certain... flavor to your life principles."
"They'll do."
In the end, Chen Mang chose not to explore the unknown Heavenly Palace. He left behind only the refrigerator before setting the Stellaris train back on course for the Niya Star System.
The Leader of the Starfire Civilization swiftly maneuvered the Xuanwu away from the area.
Chen Mang had encountered many people, but he had never met someone who so perfectly embodied the principle of "knowing and acting as one" like the Leader of the Starfire Civilization.
Everyone has their principles, but few can truly adhere to them in the face of temptation. Even Chen Mang, usually cautious and prudent, had felt the urge to explore the Heavenly Palace when he first saw it.
Yet the Leader of the Starfire Civilization harbored no such thoughts.
His only desire was to escape.
He didn't even want to glance at it.
Inside the train, Xiao Ai's voice echoed through the cabin.
"The palace is coated with a substance that makes it extremely bright in space. From a design perspective, I don't think it's a very good choice."
"At least it's a bit too bright."
"It's like a firefly in the night, afraid of going unnoticed."
"Not exactly," Chen Mang replied, shaking his head. "The Doppler Radar can clearly detect the Heavenly Palace, which means it either lacks any cloaking devices or they've malfunctioned."
"Tier 200 Doppler Radar is rare in the cosmos."
"If any other civilizations were nearby, they would have definitely noticed the Heavenly Palace."
"But when we passed by earlier,"
"I noticed that there wasn't a single civilization within a hundred thousand light-years."
"There were many planets,"
"But not a single civilization."
"I left plenty of refrigerators there. Once the Niya Star System's resources are depleted, we might consider relocating to that zone. Many of the resource-rich mining stars there could sustain us. The only things we need to figure out are why there are no civilizations in that zone and what exactly the Heavenly Palace is."
A major reason he cultivated good relations with the Starfire Civilization was their ability to teleport randomly.
This was essentially the upper-tier ecology of "Mundo."
This civilization's ability to randomly teleport across the universe allowed Chen Mang to keep throwing out refrigerators. To put it bluntly, if the "human civilization" ever faced an unavoidable catastrophe—as long as it wasn't a timeline reset—he could survive by having multiple escape routes, like a cunning rabbit with three burrows.
And if he found a promising zone...
That would become his new base of operations.
Take this zone, for example.
Although it didn't have many mining stars, its greatest advantage was the absence of any other civilizations. No one would compete with him for resources; everything was his, making it completely safe.
However...
The fact that there wasn't a single civilization within a hundred thousand light-years—not even a low-tier one—didn't exactly inspire optimism.
Chen Mang fell silent, his gaze fixed on the information displayed on the control panel screen, lost in thought.
But the next moment...
The refrigerator in the corner of the locomotive cabin suddenly began flashing red again.
What now?
A flicker of confusion crossed Chen Mang's eyes as he hurried back to the Starfire Civilization with Old Pig and the others. They found the Starfire Civilization Leader frozen in place, his body trembling as he pointed shakily toward the horizon. Following the Leader's gaze, Chen Mang froze as well.
What the hell just happened?
"Did you teleport randomly again? Weren't you not supposed to be able to do that twice in such a short time?"
"N-no."
"What about the Heavenly Palace?"
"It suddenly vanished."
"Wait, what do you mean it suddenly disappeared?"
"Exactly that." The Leader of the Starfire Civilization clasped his hands together. "It just vanished without a trace, no sound, nothing. It simply vanished into thin air."
Chen Mang took the surveillance footage offered by the Starfire Civilization Leader. The video clearly showed the Palace disappearing abruptly. He watched in silence for a long time, utterly speechless. How could something so massive vanish without a trace? It defied all his understanding.
He was now grateful he hadn't entered the Palace earlier. Who knew where he would have ended up?
This damn universe is too dangerous! he thought. Why are there always so many weird things happening?
Meanwhile—
Countless light-years away, in the Northern Frontier of the Nami Civilization, an elderly man sat hunched over his desk in his study, writing furiously. Suddenly, he felt a faint tremor in his drawer. Understanding immediately, he pulled it open. His drawer had brought him another "Cosmic Gift," but this time...
Something seemed different.
The drawer was completely empty.
The old man frowned slightly and began feeling around inside. Had the Goddess of Fate finally exhausted her favor toward him? Would there be no more Cosmic Gifts?
Or perhaps this thing was invisible.
Untouchable.
A particularly rare type of Cosmic Gift?
The value of Cosmic Gifts was entirely random. Sometimes it might be a completely useless pebble, with no discernible range of value. The number of gifts delivered each day was also completely random.
Everything was random.
Just then—
A piercing alarm blared through the study. The old man froze, glancing up at the window. No, the alarm was echoing across the entire city. Looking outside, he saw everyone on the streets gazing upward.
As if something in the sky had captured their attention.
Following the crowd's gaze, he tilted his head back. His body stiffened, his eyes widening with terror and disbelief!
For there,
A colossal Palace, radiating light like a star, had materialized above the planet, dominating nearly the entire sky.
The only relief was that the Palace remained suspended in the air, showing no signs of descending.
And faintly,
He sensed that this Palace was the Cosmic Forbidden Item the drawer had brought back this time—just a bit too large to fit inside, hence its appearance in the sky.
(End of the Chapter)
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