146: Chapter 143 My Name is Yang Xing

Just as his heart was racing and his mind was spinning with all sorts of possibilities.

A faint sound of wind came from above.

A person jumped down from the deck of the giant ship.

Landing lightly on the deck three meters in front of him.

From a distance, he looked ordinary—a young man from Dongzhou with a neutral temperament.

Up close, the young man's features seemed varied and complex, making his eyes blur slightly.

Was he a Survivor from the Fusang or Taegeukgi Civilization?

No, judging by his gaze and posture, he was a Survivor from the Yanhuang Civilization.

He could not ignore the inexplicably solid aura radiating from him.

A Gold Tier Houseboat—was this another unknown, powerful Survivor from Yanhuang?

Yang Hang paid no mind to Michael Carter's scrutiny and glanced at him.

Then, he lowered his head and began to unfasten the watch on his own wrist.

The clasp opened, and the watch was removed from his wrist.

Then he stepped forward.

He placed the watch onto Michael Carter's stiff left wrist.

The clasp snapped shut, the watch fitting snugly against his bronze-colored skin, the screen lit up, and the heart rate numbers flickered.

Michael Carter's eyes shifted to his wrist, staring at the black watch that had suddenly appeared on his hand.

Then his gaze shifted to Yang Hang.

Throughout the whole process, only his eyes could move.

"You…" He discovered that his mouth could still speak, his voice sounding tight, "What are you doing?"

It was in the language of the Stars and Stripes.

Yang Hang didn't answer. He was adjusting the strap of the watch to ensure it fit tightly enough.

Michael Carter's mind was racing. He didn't know this young man in front of him. He only knew that the other party was a top-tier Yanhuang Survivor who possessed an ultra-luxurious warship and some kind of terrifying, absurd control ability.

But the other party didn't kill him. And he even put a watch on him?

What did it mean?

A thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

Michael Carter's eyes lit up.

"Hey," he changed his tone, trying his best to make his voice sound enthusiastic and friendly—which seemed somewhat comical given his body was completely stiff, "You are a Survivor from the Yanhuang Civilization, right?"

Yang Hang lifted his eyelids to glance at him and gave a slight nod.

"That's great!" Michael Carter immediately put on a sincere smile—at least his mouth was trying its best to smile, "I am a visitor and user of the Cause and Effect Fate Platform! Michael Carter, Star-Spangled Banner Camp, a die-hard fan of the Fate Platform!"

His voice grew a few decibels louder.

"Brother, you don't need to do anything. Just let me go, and I'll commit suicide to exit this match. I admit defeat, I'm completely convinced."

He paused, then added another sentence.

"Consider this victory a gift from me, in exchange for your friendship. Having more friends on this Magic Sea means having more paths, right?"

Yang Hang finally finished adjusting the watch.

He straightened his back, tilted his head slightly, and looked at Michael Carter.

His expression wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either; it was just that very ordinary, casual look.

"You're quite thick-skinned," Yang Hang said.

It was in the Yanhuang language. But the effect of the Universal Language allowed Michael Carter to hear it in pure English.

Michael Carter was stunned.

"Do you think you still have a chance to win?" Yang Hang smiled curiously, earnestly asking for his thoughts.

Michael Carter's smile froze for half a second. Then he chuckled, and that face crisscrossed with scars actually managed to squeeze out a somewhat naive and endearing expression.

"No, no!" He said repeatedly, his voice filled with obsequiousness, "Big Boss, I'm just joking, really just joking! I'm just a small fry of the Silver Grade, how could I possibly be your opponent, Big Boss?"

When he said "small fry," he used clumsy Chinese pronunciation, obviously internet slang from Yanhuang he had learned from the Fate Platform.

"I mainly just wanted to save you some effort, Big Boss," he continued, "The result is the same anyway."

He paused, then asked tentatively.

"By the way, Big Boss, could you tell me your name? Let's get to know each other. I love making friends with Survivors from the Yanhuang Civilization, really, I've felt that way since the first day I used the Fate Platform."

Yang Hang glanced at him indifferently.

Then, the invisible suppression emanating from him vanished.

Michael Carter felt his body suddenly lighten. It was like surfacing from deep water, every pore breathing. He subconsciously moved his shoulders and arms; the metal blades had receded, revealing normal skin.

The numbness and soreness in his arms were rapidly fading.

He secretly sized up Yang Hang while rotating his wrists.

The young man stood two meters away from him, his expression extremely calm, as if all of this—defeating him, imprisoning him, putting a watch on him—was just a trivial matter done casually.

"My name is Yang Hang," Yang Hang said.

His voice wasn't loud, his tone peaceful.

Michael Carter was looking down, moving his fingers, and didn't look up the first instant he heard the name.

"Yang Hang…" He subconsciously repeated it in English, "Yang Hang…"

Then he switched to clumsy Chinese, repeating it again with a heavy accent.

"Hello, hello, Yang Hang… Yang Hang…"

He continued to move his body as he spoke, his mind still thinking about what kind of talent that terrifying suppression he had just experienced was.

"Yang Hang…"

The third time he said the name.

His voice came to an abrupt halt.

His movements froze.

It wasn't the kind of stiffness caused by external force.

It was him stiffening on his own.

Yang Hang.

He was all too familiar with this name.

Personal Merit Ranking, first place.

Merit Points: 29,017,832,106.

That name.

The name that was repeatedly mentioned by all Yanhuang Survivors on the Fate Platform with almost religious devotion.

The name that also sparked countless discussions and speculations among Survivors from other civilizations.

The name that was rumored to be the master behind the Cause and Effect Fate Platform—the "Fate Master."

Michael Carter, like a computer that had suddenly crashed, maintained his hands in a half-raised position and slowly, mechanically lifted his head.

He looked at Yang Hang's face.

Only then did he suddenly realize a problem.

From just now until this moment, he seemed to have never truly seen the face of the person in front of him.

They were standing face to face, less than two meters apart, yet his impression of this person's features was blurry, as if separated by a layer of fog. Previously, his attention was entirely on that giant ship, then he was imprisoned, then he was given a watch; with a series of events rushing in, he had actually… failed to take a good look at this person's face from start to finish.

He saw it clearly now.

Very young, looking less than twenty-five years old.

His features were regular; it wasn't stunning, but definitely pleasant to look at. His eyes were calm, and the corners of his mouth held a slight, subtle curve—not quite a smile, but more like a kind of casual relaxation.

Just standing there, his posture relaxed, the sea breeze blowing at his clothes.

As ordinary as could be.

But Michael Carter's pupils were contracting violently.

"You… you said…"

His voice began to stutter.

"You… you said your name is Yang Hang?"

"Yes," Yang Hang nodded again.

His tone was exactly the same as before, very gentle, as if they were just chatting normally.