Chapter 21 Becoming VIP Tomorrow

Chapter 21: Launching Tomorrow

Ji An had nearly 500,000 credits at his disposal. He kept 200,000 for himself as working capital and transferred the rest to Zheng Yan.

When Zheng Yan received the transfer of 300,000 credits, she cried from joy.

In the base, the purchasing power of credits was almost equivalent to that of pre-collapse currency—1,000 credits roughly equaled 1,000 yuan.

300,000! For a poor family that could barely afford food and water, this was life-changing money.

Zheng Yan held this huge sum in her hands, feeling lightheaded. Even after leaving the shop, she remained in a daze.

She stood on the street for who knows how long before coming to her senses as the area emptied out.

Instead of going straight home, she immediately rented a relatively safe one-bedroom apartment in West City before heading back.

Zheng Yan was clever. When she returned, she didn’t show any signs of her newfound wealth, keeping up her usual downcast act.

Zheng Qiu hadn’t slept and was waiting for her at home. Seeing her return empty-handed, he asked suspiciously, "You kidding me? Did those rich fools in West City really buy your worthless junk?"

"You must be dreaming. They can’t be eaten or drunk or used for upgrades—who would want them?" Zheng Yan replied coldly.

"Then where are your things?" Zheng Qiu pushed. "Don’t tell me you threw them away. That’s impossible—you were always so protective of that junk. You refused to toss it even after moving so many times in the apocalypse."

"Like you said, I treasured it. Then some homeless men thought I was carrying something valuable and robbed me." Zheng Yan managed some tears as she spoke.

Crying wasn’t hard for Zheng Yan. Life had been so bitter that she could easily make herself cry just by thinking about it.

"Those homeless men were so mad when they realized they were just junk that they smashed everything to pieces on the spot."

Zheng Yan cried hard. Zheng Qiu stared at her for a long time, apparently convinced she wasn’t lying, before leaving in frustration.

Back in her room, Zheng Yan didn’t say much. She urged her parents to sleep as usual, saying she was worn out.

But that night, Zheng Yan didn’t sleep at all. She was too wired to rest—if not for the fact that the jewelry was gone, she might have thought she’d truly lost her mind.

How could anyone actually want that junk?

She stayed wide awake until the dead of night, waiting until everyone was sound asleep before slipping over to wake her parents.

She didn’t let them speak or pack—not that they had much to pack anyway. Almost all their useful belongings had been taken by their uncles’ families.

Only after they left did Zheng Yan quietly tell them what happened.

Her mother worried, "Could this be a scam?"

Zheng Yan dismissed it. "So what if it is? Nobody wanted that junk even if I gave it away for free. But the nearly 300,000 credits in my hands are real."

Her parents thought it over and relaxed. If this was a scam, then everyone would probably wish to be scammed like this.

When they arrived at their new home—clean, spacious, and without those bloodsuckers from the Zheng family—the three of them hugged each other and wept.

Their suffering was finally over. Morning had finally come for Zheng Yan and her parents.

The next day, Ji An brought a camera and a carbon pen to Tang Ning.

Since Tang Ning couldn’t sense the qi in the gemstones, Ji An instructed her to have the seller write a character on the stone with the carbon pen and then take a photo for records.

This way, even if the gemstone failed Ji An’s inspection and had to be returned, the photo could serve as proof to check if the writing matched the seller’s original markings and position.

This would at least prove they didn’t swap the seller’s items, preventing disputes.

After this, Ji An entered the laboratory.

He’d been itching to start this experiment for a while. The reason he hadn’t gone in earlier was partly because the lab wasn’t ready yet.

All private labs in the base were already taken—there was no way experienced senior professors would hand over their labs to someone with no credentials like him. That was unrealistic and impossible.

Secondly, he lacked experimental materials. To research spatial storage device, he needed jade. All he had was his Space Necklace, and he certainly couldn’t dismantle it.

Ji An had always felt his necklace wasn’t so simple—it was something truly unique.

Today, the lab had just been completed. At the same time, researcher Han Yaokun—specially recalled by the base—and his assistant Zhao Zhen arrived with a group of researchers to inspect the new lab.

The moment they crossed paths, sparks flew.

Zhao Zhen sneered, “Wow, the great Researcher Ji actually scored a lab? What, are you really going to study that so-called spatial storage device? Have you forgotten you live in the modern world, not some xianxia novel?”

Ji An despised pests buzzing around him. The best way to handle pests wasn’t to brush them off—it was to crush them.

After this period, Ji An had fully recovered his psychic superpowered abilities and mastered a new skill.

His psychic energy materialized into a bow and arrow. He drew the bow and shot an arrow straight at Zhao Zhen’s head.

The materialization of a psychic superpowered’s psychic energy was only visible to other psychic superpowered individuals—ordinary people couldn’t see it.

Everyone present was a psychic superpowered, so they clearly saw Ji An’s action. Their faces went pale, but there was nothing they could do.

Though many of these researchers had higher psychic energy than Ji An, the undeniable truth was that they had been conducting research since arriving at the capital base and had little combat experience. Materializing psychic energy wasn’t difficult for them, but at most, it helped them assist in experiments or fetch items—they had zero combat experience.

Even without combat experience, they knew full well that if Ji An’s psychic arrow hit Zhao Zhen, he wouldn’t come out unscathed—he’d probably end up a drooling idiot.

The group of psychic superpowered researchers panicked, none knowing what to do.

At this moment, Zhao Zhen suddenly remembered that Ji An had secured an individual lab—not through research achievements, but through his extraordinary combat record.

This was a one-man army who had single-handedly escorted an ordinary person into a zombie nest, returned unharmed with valuable experimental equipment, and mowed down a dozen Level 3s, one Level 4, and countless lower-level zombies!

Just as the researchers were panicking helplessly, a crackling web of lightning snapped down from above, catching the psychic arrow.

The lightning net then transformed into a giant hand, effortlessly gripping the arrowhead and slowly presenting it back to Ji An.

“Your arrow.” The owner of the lightning hand was none other than Gu Jinsheng. “Pests are irritating, but you can’t just squash them.”

Gu Jinsheng spoke seriously, ignoring Zhao Zhen’s fury.

Ji An nearly burst out laughing, his bad mood vanishing instantly. He waved his hand, and the psychic arrow dissolved in the lightning hand’s grip. Without the arrow, the hand twitched, as if disappointed, before vanishing.

“Got it,” Ji An replied before turning and entering the lab.

Gu Jinsheng was about to leave as well when Zhao Zhen blocked his path.

“Don’t I deserve an explanation, Commander Gu? Before coming, you assured us that your base had excellent security and absolutely no trigger-happy maniacs!”

Gu Jinsheng frowned slightly. “You provoked him first. Are you sure you want to pursue this?”

Zhao Zhen looked ready to explode. Zhou Fanxiu quickly stepped in to mediate. “Kids will be kids—tempers flare. Seeing how easily Commander Gu neutralized Ji An’s attack, Ji An was just messing with him. Let’s just drop it. No one’s blameless here.”

Zhou Fanxiu was right. Ji An wasn’t about to lobotomize someone over trash talk. Even if the arrow had struck Zhao Zhen’s head, worst case, he’d have a migraine for a week—a slap on the wrist.

Han Yaokun, as a top-level researcher, was always under tight security and enjoyed the highest privileges wherever he went. Never before had he been so publicly humiliated. He coldly said to Zhou Fanxiu, "Your student is truly remarkable. My laboratory has no place for him."

Han Yaokun's words made Zhou Fanxiu and Bai Na turn pale.

As the current head researcher of the Third Base, Han Yaokun’s meaning was clear—Ji An would never be accepted into the research team in the future.

Without guidance, Ji An’s path in scientific research would be nearly impossible to progress. This was cutting off his path entirely.

Unless Ji An could make his own way without joining the research team, no one could stop his advancement.

But the so-called spatial storage device Ji An was working on sounded completely unrealistic—how could it ever become reality?

Almost no one believed Ji An could succeed, yet he himself remained absolutely certain.

Back when he was a ghost, Ji An had already considered this issue. At that time, his thoughts were simple.

Hadn’t Tang Tang gotten ahead in the Third Base by pretending to be a rare spatial superpowered? As long as she was valued, her lack of combat ability didn’t matter—just protecting supplies was enough.

Ji An thought, if he could develop a spatial storage device, then everyone could have their own space. Once spatial abilities were no longer rare, he’d see how Tang Tang could get by on hers.

Back then, as a ghost, he couldn’t go anywhere and was trapped in Tang Tang and Chen Chen’s bedroom. If he didn’t distract himself with other thoughts, he feared he’d go mad.

So, day after day, he worked through calculations in his mind. It could be said that even then, Ji An already knew how to create a spatial storage device—he just needed to actually build it.

Now, the only thing Ji An wanted was to follow the blueprint in his mind and create the spatial storage device.

Once he immersed himself in the experiment, he was more dedicated than anyone. Ji An basically lived in the laboratory, waking up to experiments and falling asleep still thinking about them.

He ignored the outside world, whether it was day or night—his eyes were fixed solely on his research.

A month and a half later, on an ordinary noon, Ji An finally emerged.

During that time, he had survived on food stored in his spatial superpower, barely eating properly. Now, he headed to the cafeteria.

Completing a small research project had indeed led to a small advancement, just as Zhou Fanxiu had said. It seemed that psychic superpowered advanced faster through intellectual pursuits. If he relied on combat, who knows how long it would take to level up?

The boost in his psychic power made his mental strength even stronger. The moment he stepped into the cafeteria, he overheard people talking about him.

"Have you heard? That guy Ji An hasn’t left the lab in a month and a half. Not eating or drinking—could he have died in there?"

"Don’t talk nonsense! Have you forgotten? He’s a dual-ability superpowered with both psychic and spatial abilities. He must’ve prepared food before going in."

"Ah, I forgot. Before this, psychic superpowered had never awakened another ability. I thought they couldn’t develop other superpowers."

"Honestly, Ji An is really impressive. He actually awakened a dual-ability superpowered, and his combat skills are terrifying. Remember when he faced Zhao Zhen? That materialized arrow nearly made him piss himself."

"Really? Or is that an exaggeration?"

"If that death god pointed a psychic arrow at you, wouldn’t you wet yourself?"

The person being questioned actually took a moment to think seriously before replying, "Hard to say."

Not far from them sat Han Yaokun and his team of researchers.

Zhao Zhen scoffed. "A month and a half? What could he have possibly done? Even if it were possible, it couldn’t be done in such a short time. Our professor’s projects take years. And that thing he’s working on is just an unrealistic fantasy anyway!"

Han Yaokun shook his head. "Young people can dream, but it’s better to keep their feet on the ground."