Chapter 134: Useless!

Chapter 134 Useless!

Even though they were confident they had plenty of high-quality bait, these days, sellers still worried about buyers not recognizing its worth.

What if they didn’t recognize the bait and simply didn’t take it?

Just as everyone was feeling somewhat anxious, they heard that something was rapidly approaching.

They perked up immediately.

Is this it?!

Quick—everyone snapped into action, ready in silence.

Though they had been on guard before, their nerves hadn’t been this tense. Now, not a single person dared to be distracted, let alone bicker. The last thing they wanted was to accidentally let the enemy succeed, making them the ones to blame forever.

Who would’ve thought Sheng Qingquan’s plan would actually work—and with terrifying efficiency? The moment the bait hit the water, it had already attracted the real deal. Holding their breath in anticipation, everyone fixed their eyes on the water’s surface.

They watched eagerly until the shadow finally revealed its true form.

Seriously? Just a fish?

“It really is just a big fish.”

“Even though we’ve been talking about ‘fishing,’ this isn’t the fish we were after.”

If this had been a normal fishing trip, landing such a massive fish would’ve had them taking hundreds of photos and flooding social media with boasts. And that still wouldn’t have been enough—once ashore, they’d parade the fish through the streets, refusing to go home until every last person had seen it.

But now, their disappointment hung thick in the air.

“It’s fine. It’s normal not to catch the fish we want right away. If we got what we were after the moment we arrived, our luck would have to be downright supernatural.” If our planet had that kind of luck, they wouldn’t be facing more apocalyptic disasters per year than there were holidays on the calendar.

Someone spoke up, half to console themselves and half to reassure the others.

Thinking about it, that did make sense.

“The bait just went into the water. We’ll just have to wait.”

Schools of fish swam by the boat, coming and going. The crew, partly to keep up appearances, partly to pass the time, cast a few nets here and there. Finally, the radar detected something again—another large creature, Stone Clan-sized, swimming toward the ship.

“It’s a tuna.”

“It’s a young whale shark.”

“It’s a giant sea turtle.”

“It’s a massive grouper.”

“It’s a small giant squid…”

Time after time, it was everything but the Stone Clan.

Even the hardcore anglers among the crew couldn’t help but start doubting: “Maybe this spot’s cursed? Maybe we should move spots?”

“Maybe so! If we change locations, the real target will take the bait?”

“Could be!” The others jumped on the idea.

Otherwise, if this keeps up, before they can catch any fish, they'll be run ragged.

Wait, run ragged?!

Everyone immediately became alert.

"Normally, would a single ship anchored in one spot encounter so many large fish?"

Although these 'giants' didn’t appear all at once, having them show up within two days seems pretty fishy upon closer thought.

With this suspicion in mind, everyone’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as another large fish approached in the water.

Aside from designated anchorage areas, ships generally aren’t allowed to drop anchor randomly at sea—doing so would be against maritime regulations. Given how rare such situations are, even professionals might be unsure how to call it.

"Thinking about it, this does seem way too many too close together."

"It’s a classic attrition tactic!"

Those damn Stone Clan bastards even know how to use tactics!

Though it’s still uncertain whether this is accidental, might as well prepare for the worst-case scenario.

So even when non-predator sea life approached again, no one felt disappointed. Instead, they were on high alert with each encounter.

By noon on the third day, the sea was dead calm, and the sun beat down, making everyone groggy. As the crew took turns eating, Sheng Qingquan was about to stand up when he noticed the water wasn’t right.

Over the past few days, he’d learned some relevant knowledge—unlike parking a car, anchoring a ship at sea doesn’t keep it perfectly still. Even when anchored, ships drift some due to wind and currents.

Thus, the water movement is never completely calm.

Not only does the ship shift, but external forces like wind also cause ripples.

But now, something felt off.

Realizing this, Sheng Qingquan moved lightning-fast, lifting his fishing rod in one motion.

As the rod rose, something unseen came up with it.

Sheng Qingquan yanked the line back, sending the jade seal skidding across the deck with a sharp *clang*.

But almost simultaneously with the *clang*, a deep, meaty thump erupted.

The two sounds overlapped so closely that, had Sheng Qingquan not known his own strength—and that the imperial seal couldn’t possibly make such a noise—he might have dismissed it.

But now, it could only mean one thing: he wasn’t being paranoid. There *had* been something in the water.

That invisible presence, chasing the seal, had been "hooked" onto the deck.

Regardless of their outward appearances, every ship on this expedition was equipped with the most advanced radar—matching even aircraft carriers in capability.

Under these conditions, if something could board the deck undetected, it couldn’t possibly be a native creature of Tianlanxing.

Though the intruder hadn’t yet revealed itself, its identity might as well have signed their name.

Realizing this, even those still hungry lost their appetites. Only one thought filled their minds: *About damn time!*

The crew opened fire warily toward the area where the loud noise had originated, avoiding the seal. But their shots might as well have been spitballs—while their strikes landed, they barely had any effect.

The attacks bounced right off the enemy, producing little more than sparks. To the Stone Clan, their assault was like those weak-ass Fourth of July sparklers—all show and no go.

What's worse, the enemy pushed through the attacks, determined to seize the jade seal.

As the fishing line went taut, it was clear the enemy had succeeded.

Why hadn’t Sheng Qingquan secured the jade seal yet? Just as the group tensed up and someone blurted out, the jade seal before them suddenly vanished.

Did that invisible bastard steal it and hide it?

That was everyone’s first thought. Or perhaps the enemy had already absorbed or destroyed it.

But soon, the enemy’s raging assaults made them realize—the jade seal hadn’t been stolen. Sheng Qingquan had reclaimed it.

Without the jade seal, not only was the enemy unshackled, but the people of Tianlanxing also held nothing back. The warriors in simple exosuits held the line, shielding everyone while opening fire toward the Stone Clan’s position.

The Stone Clan’s invisibility seemed to have limits. Under genuine assault, they materialized.

A giant composed of rocks of various sizes appeared on the deck.

The Stone Clan member lashed out with boulder-like arms to fend off the firepower, but its eyes remained fixed on where the jade seal had disappeared.

"Roar!" The Stone Clan member suddenly bellowed to the heavens, soundwaves hammering at everyone’s eardrums. "Hand over that stone!"

"Those who refuse—die!" With a sweep of its arm, it pulverized entire decks of the ship into fragments.

Hearing the translated threat, no one responded. Instead, the attacks intensified.

At the same time, Sheng Qingquan suited up in his mech, sitting in the cockpit as he deactivated the default stealth mode that had been active all along.

"Those who refuse—die?"

We’ll see who kills who.

Without stealth, the warriors could now see the mech and coordinate with Sheng Qingquan to box in the Stone Clan warrior.

"A mid-tier mech?"

"How is that possible?"

Even with a rock-hewn face, everyone could see its shock and panic.

The Stone Clan member turned its head, scanning the warriors in their simple exosuits.

"These basic exosuits—weren’t they just your first-gen prototypes? This can’t possibly be the cutting edge of your tech?"

"Isn’t Tianlanxing a Tier-1 tech world? Building these tin cans should’ve maxed you out. How could you have a real mech—and a mid-tier one at that?!"

"Could these just be spare suits for your mech?"

"No, spare suits wouldn’t be this numerous. And spare suits for a mid-tier mech wouldn’t be this janky."

"Spare suits for a low-level mech would make more sense."

"One mech only has one spare suit. You have more mechs, just not deployed here?"

"Ahhh! You disrespecting me? You think this mid-tier mech alone is enough, so you didn’t bother sending other proper mechs, just these backups to deal with me?"

"Roar!"

The more it spoke, the angrier the Stone Clan member became. Blind with rage, its own speculations enraged it, overriding even its fear of the mid-tier mech. Its attacks grew increasingly frenzied.

The Tianlanxing natives thought a life-or-death struggle was imminent.

Suddenly, a soothing and melodic voice rang out.

"Intermediate-grade mechs?"

The voice was frosty, like the tone of a celestial being reigning above the highest heavens.

Pure and beautiful, it contrasted sharply with the Stone Clan’s gravelly growl.

Yet the question posed was identical.

The words carried a hint of puzzlement and surprise.

An unseen force seemed to scan the area.

"Their physiques exceed projections. No wonder the modification serum was consumed so quickly, yet the desired effects were never achieved."

"There isn’t even a trace of transformation on these people."

"Unit 015, explain your target selection."

"Worthless!"

With those two cold words, the Stone Clan member seemed to tremble, its rocky body clattering as stones ground against each other with a thunderous noise.

It seemed to realize something: "No, Master! I can still serve you—"

But before it could finish, its master had already vanished.

The Stone Clan member failed to stop it.

Its stone body convulsed violently, and in the next moment, it exploded. Shrapnel-like debris sprayed, most falling into the sea, while a few landed on the deck.

The once-bellicose Stone Clan warrior was now reduced to a pile of broken stones.

The Tianlanxing natives were stunned. If not for their combat reflexes saving them, many would have been injured by this sudden turn of events.

The warriors were floored by the outcome. They had prepared for a desperate battle, having written their last letters before coming—only for things to end like this.

But... talk about dodging a bullet!

By the looks of it, the Stone Clan member had likely failed in its mission and was forced to self-destruct by its master.

There was strong suspicion that its earlier overconfident bluster had directly misled its master, making the master believe Tianlanxing was far more powerful than it was.

Moreover, none of the Tianlanxing people who came here were ordinary. If not elite soldiers, they were at least top-tier operatives.

Even those who weren’t wearing basic combat rigs.

It wasn’t that their physical fitness was insufficient—it was that they were short on rigs.

Even though Tianlanxing could now produce such rigs independently, the output was limited, and the failure rate was high. Fielding this many was a logistical stretch.

Sheng Qingquan’s team wasn’t the only priority; other vessels required outfitting too. Hence the shortages.

But those without mech suits were the most skilled martial artists in the military.

Martial artists naturally possess far superior physical fitness compared to ordinary people, especially when enhanced by internal energy—making them extraordinary. Moreover, the nation has spared no expense in funneling premium goods to these elites.

The lion’s share of the bounty traded with the pixies, such as Wildflower Honey, was funneled to them.

Even if guns stopped working later, their raw physical strength in close combat would still make them a formidable force.

Such physical capabilities were certainly not typical of an early-stage tech civilization, which somewhat threw the enemy off.

Additionally, unaware that their bodily anomalies were actually due to modifications, the warriors diligently used healing pods daily to maintain their training routines and ensure their physical conditions didn’t hinder their progress.

They used the devices both to heal injuries sustained during training and sparring and to keep themselves in top shape, so as not to disrupt their exercise regimens.

After the doomsday alert arrived and they realized it was due to modifications, the warriors increased their use of healing pods—from once before bed to three times a day.

They even made sure to heal up before eating.

By the time the Stone Clan arrived, they had just gotten patched up, leaving no traces of modification on their bodies.

Clearly, this was another reason the Lanyans mistakenly assumed the Blue Star was a powerful civilization.

However, the moment the situation exceeded expectations—when the supposed "pushover" turned out tougher than imagined—the Lanyan immediately chose to blow up its slave.

Should this be praised as decisiveness, or does it reveal being way more chicken than expected?

Weren’t the Lanyans said to be super picky about their slaves, given the limited number each could bind? Slaves were supposedly loyal, non-rebellious, and capable—shouldn’t they be valued, even as slaves?

Why waste one without a second thought?

"I finally understand why the Lanyans are called cowards," someone grumbled.

How is this any different from tucking its head in at the first touch?

"We overestimated their principles. Slave owners don’t care about their slaves. They probably think, 'Good riddance to bad rubbish.'"

"Forget about new slaves," someone asked uncertainly, "I just want to know—will the enemy come back?"

"Probably not," came the reply. The Lanyan’s cowardice likely wouldn’t allow it to send more forces.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have had the Stone Clan guy blow up on the spot. If it had any intention of continuing, wouldn’t it have ordered the slave to hide and preserve its strength, waiting to regroup with reinforcements?

This reaction suggests it wasn’t about reluctance to send more troops—it was scared shitless we'd catch the Stone Clan member and trace it back.

So at the first sign of trouble, it cut ties, even at a cost, to eliminate any chance of us tracking it down.

"It really won’t return," Sheng Qingquan said, both relieved and annoyed.

After the Stone Clan member blew up, his hack/system perks had already begun counting up the loot.

The increase in Qiankun Coins and the appearance of merchandise gifts confirmed the crisis was truly over.

The Lanyans’ ability to remotely control their slaves was why they could send them out for resources without fear of rebellion.

The Lanyan likely observed the scene through the Stone Clan member’s eyes via mental link—and noped out.

"They won’t come back. Let’s clean up first."

As the warriors began cleaning up the debris, Sheng Qingquan piloted his mech and dove into the sea.

He had to retrieve all the small stones that had just splashed into the sea.

To avoid any environmental impact from these stones. Besides, bringing them back would provide valuable research specimens for the scientists, right?

Who’s to say they might not even discover something remarkable?

Tianlanxing was as rich as it was poor—nothing could be wasted.

Sheng Qingquan worked diligently to collect them.

After the Stone Clan's death, the scattered stones it left behind lost their radar-jamming properties.

Sheng Qingquan had his mech scan the area, and every ping registered a hit. Unlike before, when he first arrived at sea, he had also activated his mech's detection system, hoping for a quick fix. But back then, nothing showed up—the mech remained completely unresponsive, denying him any shortcuts.

Now, with every stone's location pinpointed, the retrieval work became incredibly easy.

Easier than Candy Crush.

Sheng Qingquan spent just over two hours collecting all the scattered stones.

After handing them over to the warriors, as if sensing he was done,

the orbiting trinkets that had been hovering obediently beside Sheng Qingquan suddenly zipped right between his brows.

What did he get this time?

Sheng Qingquan instinctively raised his hand to touch his forehead while wondering.

Almost simultaneously, he understood what that gleaming, gold-flecked shard was.

It was a type of stone the Stone Clan had once fused into its body—a stone that allowed the wearer to breathe freely underwater. Similar to the legendary Pearl of Aquatic Negation, but with even more miraculous effects.

After fusing with this stone, the Stone Clan gained this ability.

And precisely because of this, it caught the attention of the Lanyans and became their slave.

After all, the Lanyans, who dwelled in the ocean depths, naturally required their slaves to possess the ability to survive underwater.

Unlike the Stone Clan, which had to gamble with probability—fusing with tens of thousands of stones to gain underwater breathing—Sheng Qingquan only needed to absorb this single fragment to acquire the ability.

The contrast made it crystal clear who the lucky one was.

Sheng Qingquan felt a private thrill before an idea struck him. He stowed his exosuit and dove back into the sea.

“What the hell?!” someone muttered, shrieking in shock. “What are you doing, boss?”

“Are there still straggling stones below? Even if there are, there's no need to rush like this!”

He could’ve just gone down in his exosuit. Even if, by some fluke, a stray stone had been swallowed by a passing fish, pursuing it in an exoframe would’ve been faster than swimming, right? There was plenty of time.

Most importantly—

“Can he even swim? Should we go down and rescue him?” someone panicked, unable to stop himself from rushing to the ship's edge and scanning the depths. Only after seeing the figure underwater, immersed in the sea with fish-like ease—though it didn’t look like swimming, there was no sign of drowning—did his tension ease.

The warriors, who had started shedding their gear to dive in for a rescue, halted their movements.

Now at ease, they began speculating how Sheng had managed this feat: “Did he train in some qigong technique?”

“Probably not. ‘Water-Walking’ sounds like skimming across the waves.”

"He took a headfirst plunge into the ocean."

"Maybe it's some kind of swimming technique? Or perhaps he learned breath-control techniques to stay underwater for long periods."

Someone else chimed in with a new idea: "Maybe his inner cultivation is exceptionally deep. Isn't it said that as long as one gathers and maintains their qi without dispersing it, they can achieve things previously impossible? This might be one such application."

"But hasn't he been staying underwater for an unusually long time?"

Can inner cultivation really allow someone to hold their breath this long? At first, everyone was relaxed, chatting while watching the scene.

But five minutes passed, then ten... thirty minutes went by.

Even though Sheng Qingquan occasionally moved his arms and legs, changing positions, looking perfectly fine, everyone grew increasingly worried.

What if something really went wrong?

A few warriors finally gave in and dived down to check on him.

Upon inspection, they found him completely at ease underwater, having the time of his life.

He was playfully making circles with his hands or clapping his palms together, twisting his arms underwater to tease a school of thumb-sized fish, letting them dart back and forth between his hands.

"Why did you all come down too?" Seeing them, Sheng Qingquan pushed his hands outward, sent the fish scattering with the water current to continue their journey.

Only after noticing the warriors' expressions did he realize what he'd forgotten.

He quickly explained about his new power.

Seeing that Sheng Qingquan wasn't done having fun and needed time to familiarize himself with his brand-new ability, everyone understood. Still, they insisted: "You should still check in at regular intervals."

After all, it was a newly gained ability. While most of Sheng Qingquan's abilities clicked instantly for him, there had been exceptions before.

What if, like last time, his control slipped during practice?

This was the deep sea—one slip-up could be fatal.

The more the warriors thought about it, the more uneasy they became: "How about you surface first? Gear up so we can have your back?"

They'd even bring an oxygen tank just in case.

"It's your first time with this ability—we'll have your back. Next time, once you've fully mastered it, you'll have free rein." To avoid making Sheng Qingquan feel restricted, one warrior added.

Though Sheng Qingquan felt it unnecessary—this time, the merchandise gift had been much more manageable right out of the gate, and there'd been no issues in the shallow waters—he knew he'd messed up for diving without warning and getting so carried away that he forgot to check in.

Besides, when fate turns, anything can happen.

"Don't worry, we're not pulling people off duty. We have to wait for the other ships to regroup anyway—we weren't leaving immediately. This is a good chance for us to have some fun underwater too."

With things put this way, Sheng Qingquan feared that refusing might prompt the warriors to call in the brass. So he popped back up and waited for them to gear up.

Once equipped, the warriors made sure to bring extra oxygen tanks.

This time, Sheng Qingquan didn't stick to the shallows but swam toward deeper waters.

The underwater world was absolutely stunning.

Sheng Qingquan discovered a coral reef.

What a magical sight!

It looked straight out of a storybook unfolding before his eyes.

Vibrant corals swayed softly, while schools of tiny fish and shrimp darted through them.

The corals were brilliantly vivid, with incredibly high color saturation, yet they didn’t appear harsh to the eyes—instead, they looked just right, as if any more would be too intense and any less would be too dull.

The colors were so stunning no artist could fully capture them.

Sheng Qingquan breathed a quiet "wow." It hit him—corals weren’t limited to just red and pink.

Living corals underwater were way more vibrant and alive than those seen on land.

Blue, purple, yellow, green—red and pink were actually the rarest here.

A scallop swam by like it owned the place.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

So this was how scallops swam! He had always imagined them moving vertically, opening and closing their shells in a ‘V’ shape. But instead, it was horizontal, like a ‘>’ symbol, zipping forward like a mini bulldozer.

It was so fast that if not for Sheng Qingquan’s sharp eyesight, he wouldn’t have been able to see it clearly. In the blink of an eye, it disappeared behind a reef.

Then a group of transparent jellyfish floated into view. To his amazement, Sheng Qingquan noticed that inside their translucent bodies were two rainbows!

The shimmering, kaleidoscopic colors of the rainbows were so mesmerizing that, if they weren’t so tiny, they truly would have looked like rainbows rising from the seabed.

These rainbows were only about the size of a palm, and if not for the fear that they might be poisonous, Sheng Qingquan would’ve totally palmed one.

If he couldn’t reach for the stars, then at least he could hold a rainbow in his palm—just the thought of it felt incredibly romantic.

Just as Sheng Qingquan was feeling a pang of disappointment, an egg-yolk jellyfish floated past him.

At first glance, it really did look like a poached egg drifting by—freshly cracked into a bowl, not yet cooked.

His stomach growled.

The thought came to him instinctively. Only afterward did he realize how random that thought was. But he really was craving it now.

After returning, he’d cook himself a poached egg and have some jellyfish salad with extra vinegar!

An unknown large fish swam over, and Sheng Qingquan tagged along with it for a while before bidding farewell to his traveling companion, his attention drawn by a nearby starfish.

After observing the starfish for a bit, his sharp eyes caught sight of a sea turtle in the distance. Sheng Qingquan chased after it and hopped on for a free ride.

The chill sea turtle gave this moocher a lift for a stretch, and in return, Sheng Qingquan cleaned off the parasites clinging to its shell.

The turtle affectionately nuzzled him before flipping away into the blue.

What’s that yellow thing up there? It grew on the seabed like coral, yet its appearance was completely different.

Its wrinkly skin looked like a hollow tube.

He’d seen something like this before.

Sheng Qingquan swam loops around it before it clicked—

It's kind of like chikuwa—those fishcake tubes you drop in hotpot.

Yellowish and kinda like a big sea sponge.

Wait—is this where SpongeBob’s design came from?!

Once his curiosity was satisfied, something else caught Sheng Qingquan’s eye.

The ocean was full of weird and wonderful things, and Sheng Qingquan, a land-dweller, found everything fascinating. Whether it was a strange rock, swaying seaweed, or a crab with menacing claws...

Each made Sheng Qingquan pause. If fish ever grew legs and walked on land, they’d probably be just as amazed.

By the time Sheng Qingquan was halfway satisfied, the warriors had already gone up to change their oxygen tanks several times.

If he wasn’t starving—and not in the mood for raw fish—Sheng Qingquan would have been reluctant to surface. Even so, when he finally left the seabed, he still felt a lingering sense of dissatisfaction.

Next time, he’d bring his own spices and a portable stove.

After cleaning up a little on deck, Sheng Qingquan ate his fill of the food he’d been craving. Before long, nearby ships had all arrived.

Returning to the port and going ashore, he headed home. While the scientists were busy studying those broken rocks, Sheng Qingquan found more opportunities to play in the ocean a few more times—even achieving seafood freedom in the process.

Crabs wider than a sink, shrimp thicker than a Coke bottle, scallops larger than soup bowls... all-you-can-eat fresh seafood, no limits.

For once, Sheng Qingquan actually got to unwind and enjoy a few all-you-can-eat feasts.

But before he could really enjoy it, a new Doomsday came knocking again.