286: Chapter 287 is outrageous! The Martial Saint is coding online.

The Earth Fiend Cave, deep within the karst cavern.

The twenty-second day of secluded cultivation.

Lin Qi felt as if he were about to turn into a stone.

He had maintained the exact same posture for seven full days and nights without moving.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move, but that he couldn't.

His entire mind was immersed in an extremely profound state.

If before he was using his ears to "listen" to the heartbeat of the world,

then now, he had turned himself into a "compiler," "reading" the underlying code of this world line by line.

This process was far more tedious and dangerous than he had imagined.

The tedium lay in the fact that the amount of information he had to process every day was more massive than all twelve years of gaming in his previous life combined.

Every pulse of the world's heartbeat carried a "syllable."

Seven heartbeats, seven syllables, formed a "code block."

These code blocks flowed through his body like a continuous stream.

What he had to do was capture, record, analyze, and understand within this endless flow of information.

This job simply wasn't meant for humans.

If it were anyone with slightly less willpower, their Soul would have been washed into a blank slate by this massive torrent of data within three days.

But Lin Qi held on.

Having been a Martial Saint in his previous life, his willpower was tempered like steel. More importantly, he had "experience."

The "syntactic structure" of this underlying code was seventy to eighty percent similar to the underlying code of the martial arts era in his memory.

It was like a programmer proficient in C++ being thrown into learning Java. Although the languages were different, many of the underlying programming concepts were the same.

He picked it up extremely quickly.

On the first day, he could understand about one percent of the code blocks.

By the third day, that number became five percent.

On the seventh day, which was today, he could already preliminarily understand most of the "base code" flowing through his body.

For example, he now "saw" a segment of code.

[Function Name: Quality_Decomposition]

[Parameters: Original_Quality, Target_Object]

[Function: Decomposes primitive source matter into standardized energy absorbable by the target object.]

[Notes: This function is one of the System's core functions. Invocation permission: Highest.]

Lin Qi: "..."

Isn't this the process where the System panel converts monster essence into experience points?

So at the level of underlying code, it's just such a simple function call.

The so-called System was essentially a set of "applications" running on this world's server.

It encapsulated complex underlying code into "skills," "attributes," and "Ranks" that ordinary people could understand.

Convenient, fast, but also... stupid.

Because encapsulation meant shielding details and losing infinite possibilities.

Just like the difference between a point-and-shoot camera and a DSLR.

Anyone can use a point-and-shoot; you just press the shutter.

But a true Great Master uses a DSLR where you can manually adjust the aperture, shutter speed, and ISO.

Everyone in this world was using a "point-and-shoot camera."

And he, Lin Qi, was currently taking apart the casing of this camera to study the circuit board inside.

The danger lay in the fact that this code... was "alive."

They weren't static text, but dynamic, flowing energy bodies that even possessed "emotions."

Once, he tried to forcibly analyze a segment of underlying code regarding "space."

That segment of code instantly became "irritable," rampaging through his Meridians and nearly tearing his left arm apart.

Fortunately, he cut the connection in time to prevent a major disaster.

That feeling was like trying to use Notepad to open a running core program, resulting in a System-wide blue screen.

Since then, he had learned his lesson.

Only "read," don't "write."

Only "look," don't "touch."

Like a cautious intern observing a lead programmer coding, he absolutely didn't dare to recklessly change a single character.

But today, he prepared to take a risk.

Because he had discovered a very interesting "BUG."

Or rather, a permission vulnerability.

Below the core function "Quality_Decomposition," he found a line of commented-out "deprecated code."

//[Backup Function: Quality_Reconstruction]

//[Function: Reverse reconstruct standardized energy into matter of a specified form.]

//[Status: Deprecated. Reason: Insufficient stability, prone to uncontrollable mutations.]

Source Matter Reconstruction.

The underlying logic of Alchemy?

Turning stone into gold?

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat.

Although this function was "commented out," meaning the System wouldn't actively call it,

it still existed in the underlying code library.

It was just like a piece of software updating to a new version, but the code for old version features wasn't deleted cleanly, only hidden away.

So, was it possible for him, someone who could directly read the underlying code, to... manually invoke this "hidden feature"?

Once this thought appeared, it grew wildly like weeds.

The risk was huge.

The comment clearly stated: "prone to uncontrollable mutations."

If things went wrong, he might "mutate" himself.

But the reward was equally massive.

If he could master this ability, what would it mean?

It meant he could bypass the System's "shop" and "create" things himself.

If he needed a sword, as long as there was enough energy, he could directly "mold" one out of essence.

If he needed a Medicinal Pill, as long as he understood the material composition of the pill, he could theoretically "print" it out.

This was no longer in the realm of martial arts.

This was the power of a creator.

Let's do it!

Lin Qi had always been a risk-taker.

High risk, high reward—this was a deal worth making.

He took a deep breath, simulated a small strand of his Five Elements True Qi into an "invocation command," and cautiously probed toward that commented-out code.

Because his True Qi was synchronized with the world's heartbeat, it was "legal" to the underlying code and wouldn't be rejected as a virus.

This was his greatest reliance.

The moment his True Qi touched that code.

Lin Qi's head buzzed.

It was as if a long-sealed door was being slowly pushed open.

A brand new stream of information flooded into his consciousness.

It was no longer dry code, but 3D, dynamic "blueprints" regarding material composition.

From the most basic hydrogen atom to complex protein macromolecules.

From an ordinary stone to an energy-containing medicinal herb.

The "recipes" for all things were clearly displayed before him.

Lin Qi endured the feeling of his Soul being nearly burst open and chose the simplest "recipe" from among them—water.

Two hydrogen atoms, one oxygen atom.

Simple and safe.

Even if he failed, at most he'd create a little water inside his body; no big deal.

He mobilized a wisp of liquefied True Qi within his body as "raw material," then began to attempt "reconstruction" according to the blueprint for "water."

This process required extremely precise control.

It was ten thousand times harder than the most delicate surgery he had performed in his previous life.

He felt less like a Martial Artist and more like a madman stacking blocks at the atomic level.

One second.

Two seconds.

Ten seconds.

In the "world" of his inner vision, that wisp of green True Qi began to twist, decompose, and reorganize under the power of invisible Laws.

Then...

Poof.

A soft sound.

Reconstruction failed.

That wisp of True Qi directly annihilated, turning into a harmless stream of heat.

"Damn, it really isn't that easy."

Lin Qi cursed in his heart.

He wasn't discouraged.

What was one failure?

In his previous life, to conquer a BOSS, he could die hundreds of times.

This little setback was just a drizzle.

He calmed his mind and reviewed the reason for the failure just now.

Was the energy output unstable? Or was the atomic structure not assembled correctly?

He re-examined the molecular structure diagram of "water," engraving every detail into his mind.

Then, he began the second attempt.

Still a failure.

The third time.

Failure.

...

He didn't know how many times he failed.

Lin Qi felt like his Mental Energy was about to be sucked dry.

Just when he was about to give up.

In the meditation room, while he was sitting cross-legged on the bluestone, he suddenly extended a finger.

At his fingertip, a crystal-clear droplet of water appeared out of thin air.

Then, it dripped onto the ground.

Drip.

The sound was exceptionally clear in the silent cavern.

Lin Qi snapped his eyes open, a terrifyingly sharp light bursting from his gaze.

He looked at his wet fingertip, and then slowly, his mouth curled into a grin, and he laughed.

He laughed like a child who had gotten a new toy.

He had succeeded.

Even though it was just the simplest water.

But it meant that he had pushed open that door.

From today onwards.

He was no longer just a Martial Artist.

He was a... BUG-level "Alchemist."