168: Chapter 165 Polar Reversal
Yang Hang didn't care about those discussions.
To be precise, he didn't even know those discussions existed.
He had told his Divided Soul not to disturb him unless necessary.
Since twelve o'clock at noon, when he began to master the Energy Primer, his entire consciousness had been submerged in the micro-energy field constructed by the Power of Causality within the training room.
He dismantled the underlying logic of the Tenfold Leverage layer by layer.
Resonance frequency, conversion efficiency, compression limits—these theoretical frameworks, which were originally just text on pages, were being understood bit by bit through the cross-verification of his Power of Causality and Energy Perception.
One unit of energy pried into ten.
But where was the fulcrum for this "prying"? How long was the lever arm? How to control the energy decay curve after amplification?
With the theoretical support of the Energy Primer, these questions were being solved one by one.
Time became meaningless during his deduction.
Until—
3:02 AM.
Yang Hang opened his eyes.
It wasn't because he had reached a Bottleneck in his deduction. It was because his Divided Soul had sent him a piece of information regarding the real-time ranking of the Individual Sequence Contest, where he had slipped to 126th place.
Leader: Hans Weber, 961 matches.
126. Yang Hang (Yanhuang Civilization), 662 matches.
He blinked.
Then, he extended a wisp of the Power of Causality. The next moment, the Power of Causality surged, and he directly manifested all the results of "himself winning" from the past.
No process involved.
Two seconds.
On the real-time leaderboard of the Individual Sequence Contest, Yang Hang's win count jumped from 662 to 1500.
Then, he sank back into the deduction of the Tenfold Leverage.
The entire process took less than five seconds.
—
Magic Sea Calendar, 18th day. 6:11 AM.
Hans Weber woke up from over three hours of deep sleep.
The first thing he did upon opening his eyes was to bring up his life ring—it had become a conditioned reflex. The moment the real-time win leaderboard for the Individual Sequence Contest popped up as a holographic projection, his gaze went straight to the top.
[1st Place: Yang Hang (Yanhuang Civilization), Wins: 1500]
Hans Weber's smile froze on his face.
He looked down to find his own name.
[2nd Place: Hans Weber (Teuton), Wins: 987]
The gap—five hundred and thirteen matches.
When he had taken a final look at the leaderboard before going to sleep last night, Yang Hang was still in 126th place with 662 matches.
One night.
Eight hundred and thirty-eight more matches.
Hans Weber sat on the cabin floor, his blue-gray eyes staring fixedly at that "1500," his pupils trembling slightly.
Eight hundred and thirty-eight matches in one night.
He had fought for three days, risking his life, grinding without sleep, only to go from sixty-one matches to nine hundred and eighty-seven.
That person had caught up in one night and even left him behind by more than five hundred matches.
Hans Weber's mind went blank for a moment.
A chill rising from the base of his spine made cold sweat break out on his back.
At that moment, only one thought occupied his mind—
"Is this really something a human can achieve?"
"Could Fate Master Yang Hang truly already be a god?"
That's right, last time Fate Master Yang Hang only used less than two hours to fight over six hundred matches.
He went to sleep at three last night.
This time, three hours to fight over eight hundred matches, what was so strange about that?
As expected, the first place in the Individual Sequence Contest was simply not something he could covet.
He should give up on fighting for first place and set his target on second.
This thought lasted about five seconds.
Then Hans Weber gritted his back teeth.
"No."
"Calm down, calm down."
He forced himself to take three deep breaths.
Think. Why would Yang Hang suddenly fight over eight hundred matches last night?
Because he saw his ranking.
He saw him—Hans Weber—rush to first place, leaving him behind by over two hundred matches.
He felt threatened.
So he couldn't sit still. So he fought desperately last night, fighting over eight hundred matches in one go—how long must that have taken? Even if each match took ten seconds, it would take over two hours of non-stop fighting!
Not to mention that matching times were long at night.
The matching time was probably longer than the battle time.
At least three or four hours.
In other words, the time he, Hans Weber, spent sleeping was completely filled by Fate Master Yang Hang!!!
Hans Weber's eyes suddenly lit up—
One thousand five hundred matches! This number was too round, too deliberate.
What did this mean? It meant that Fate Master Yang Hang stopped voluntarily when he reached one thousand five hundred matches.
Why stop? Because he was frantically seizing every minute and every second to rush forward.
It was just to reach a lead of one thousand five hundred matches, to give himself a sufficient safety margin, and to dispel his, Hans Weber's, thoughts of catching up.
He was using numbers to intimidate him.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Hans Weber stood up abruptly from the floor.
His fists clenched. Arcs of lightning darted from between his fingers, crackling.
"You are afraid."
When he whispered these three words, he even laughed himself.
Yes, Fate Master Yang Hang was afraid of him.
A God behind a dignified Yanhuang Survivor was forced to frantically grind points in the middle of the night—this precisely proved his, Hans Weber's, threat level.
And next, the Fate Master would definitely be more relaxed.
With a lead of one thousand five hundred matches, given that person's arrogant personality, he would definitely be even more slack in the coming days.
Giving him more time, more opportunities.
Hans Weber walked onto the deck, and the morning breeze, laden with the salty, fishy scent of the sea, rushed towards him.
He spread his arms, and the Bloodline of the Lightning Giant Bear surged across his body, blue-white electric arcs exploding from his entire body, illuminating half the sea surface.
"Ha—hahahaha!!!"
He roared up at the sky.
The sound carried far across the empty Magic Sea.
Then he turned and walked into the cabin, clicking the match button for the Individual Sequence Battle.
—
Meanwhile.
Fate Platform · Symphony Realm · World Echo.
The Yanhuang Survivors woke up one after another, habitually taking a glance at the leaderboard.
Then the comment section exploded.
"One thousand five hundred??? Am I seeing things???"
"Wasn't it six hundred and sixty-two last night??? How the hell did it increase by over eight hundred matches after waking up???"
"Fate Master is the best!!! I told you, Fate Master never does things without being sure!"
[Tide Watcher Li (Yanhuang Civilization): So who told me yesterday that Fate Master didn't care about the Individual Sequence Contest? @Storm Eye, if he didn't care, he wouldn't have fought eight hundred more matches just to show you. It's not that he doesn't care, it's that he can't be bothered with you.]
[Storm Eye (Yanhuang Civilization): ...Can I take back what I said? [Kneeling.jpg]]
"Hahahaha, Storm Eye is suffering social death again! Two days in a row!"
"Just lazy, really just lazy."
"Over eight hundred matches in one night... Does Fate Master not need to sleep?"
"Are you calling a god a human?"
[Fishing Light Song (Yanhuang Civilization): Everyone calm down. One thousand five hundred matches; the first day's six hundred and sixty-two took over an hour. That's understandable for daytime, but yesterday was late at night, and the matching time is the big consumer. Last night's eight hundred and thirty-eight matches, assuming he started fighting after we finished discussing the leaderboard, counting the matching time as a short ten seconds each time, just the matching time alone would take two or three hours, which means Fate Master's every battle... must have ended in three or four seconds!]
The comment section went quiet for another three seconds.
"Three or four seconds a match???"
"That's it, this is Fate Master's strength. Three or four seconds a match, I think that's even a long estimate, at most two seconds. Who else matches for battles in the middle of the night? Are they really not afraid of being attacked by sea beasts tomorrow due to lack of energy? Except for those who are on night watch!"
"Fate Master is awesome!"
"Agreed + 1."
"Agreed + 99999..."
The atmosphere of the discussion shifted from yesterday's anxiety to lightness.
The Individual Sequence Contest was stable.
The 5v5 Faction Sequence Battle had long been stable.
What else was there to worry about?
The topics on the Fate Platform quickly shifted from fighting to daily life.
"The top of the food god shrine's deliciousness leaderboard changed today! It became a dish of garlic roasted snake oysters! It actually has a rating of six thousand deliciousness, which great god made this?"
"Damn! I'm drooling! I really want to taste it, but unfortunately, one serving of garlic roasted snake oysters is worth three or four of me, I can't afford it at all!"
"That's for sure, the top of the deliciousness leaderboard, is it something for guys like us to eat? Didn't everyone not be able to afford the Manchu Han Imperial Feast before Transmigration?"
"Before Transmigration, I ate Shaxian snacks for twelve yuan and was satisfied for the whole day!"
"Don't mention before Transmigration, woooo..."
The atmosphere of the entire Fate Platform visibly relaxed.