36: Chapter 36 The Conception of New Functions for the Fate Platform
No buildup, no technique, just a casual swing like swatting a fly.
The fist wind ripped a vacuum channel in the seawater, and the shockwave hit the giant beast's head—The kilometer-long body was like a paper airplane hit by a truck. The entire giant beast was lifted from the seabed, tumbled backwards, smashed through a ridge on the seabed, and flew at least another two nautical miles before stopping.
The seabed shook.
Sediment was stirred up, and visibility dropped to zero.
Yang Hang stood in the murky water for a while, waiting for the silt to settle.
In the distance, the giant beast was curled up in the wreckage of the smashed ridge in a state of extreme confusion, its big eye staring at him, pupils shrunk to pinpoints.
It didn't roar again; what it exuded was pure fear and an extreme desire to survive.
Yang Hang didn't kill it; he turned and floated upward.
Over the next few hours, Yang Hang conducted a series of experiments in the depths of the Magic Sea.
He giant-sized his Physical Body and tore apart a nearly ten-kilometer-long scaled sea snake with his bare hands; the shell, which the magic sea compass identified as capable of resisting the sharpness of gold-tier weapons, was like soaked cardboard in his hands.
He caught the tail barb of a floating, hundreds-of-meters-high heretical magic seahorse with his forehead; the poison needle snapped against his skin, and the venom ran down his face without any effect.
He let a school of piranhas, averaging dozens of meters in size, bite him for a full ten minutes; in the end, the fish were too tired and gave up, while he didn't even have a white mark on him.
He even found a sunken ancient ruin on the seabed, lifted a stone pillar estimated to be a hundred meters high, held it over his head, and strolled about, imitating that monkey who caused chaos in the East Sea before his Transmigration, causing chaos in the depths of the Magic Sea before putting it back.
Every step he took on the seabed triggered a small-scale earthquake.
Finally, he found a group of medium-sized sea beasts, ranging from fifty to eighty meters in size, in a relatively empty deep-sea basin.
He shouted at them.
Not with language, but with primitive sound waves directly emitted from his vocal cords without any modification.
The group of sea beasts was struck as if by lightning, fleeing in all directions; some were so scared they flipped over and convulsed as they sank into the sea.
Yang Hang heard his own voice echoing in the deep sea for a full thirty seconds before it dissipated.
He stood on the seabed for a while.
The surroundings were so quiet it was as if all sound had been drained away.
Then he laughed.
As he laughed, it turned into a loud laugh.
The laughter turned into a distorted and twisted sound wave in the seawater, traveling far, far away, heard by all marine life along the way.
That night, a sound that made all creatures instinctively feel fear echoed in the depths of the Magic Sea.
It wasn't the roar of a sea beast.
It was human laughter.
When Yang Hang returned to the Houseboat, the twin suns had already set below the horizon.
The sky transitioned from orange-red to deep purple, then to ink blue. The first batch of stars began to light up in the sky, reflecting on the calm sea surface like two galaxies sandwiching the Houseboat.
He climbed over the railing, soaking wet, and landed on the deck.
The bionic maid had already prepared a bath towel and clean clothes, as well as a glass of iced lemonade.
He took the lemonade and drank a big gulp.
The chill of the ice cubes slid down his throat and exploded in his stomach. This feeling confirmed that he was still human—at least he still retained human senses.
He changed out of his wet clothes and sat down on the lounge chair.
A bionic maid crouched at his feet and began to massage his feet. Another stood behind him, massaging his shoulders with moderate force. A third brought a plate of cut fruit and some snacks, placing them on the low table beside him.
Yang Hang leaned back in the chair and let out a long breath.
The restlessness in his body finally subsided. It was like a wild beast that had just been fed, quietly curled up in a corner, occasionally letting out a satisfied low whimper.
He closed his eyes.
The Karmic Star Sea spread out in the depths of his consciousness.
The energy pool had risen by a large margin since before he jumped into the sea—that moment of the Great Black Heaven had consumed quite a bit, but compared to the panic he brought to the entire Yanhuang Camp... Forget it, don't think about it, the sun is already out anyway.
The messages on the Fate Platform, in addition to the messages that had been spamming before, were still spamming now.
"The sun is back!!! Holy crap, it scared me to death!!!"
"What was that just now? An eclipse?"
"Are there eclipses in the Magic Sea???"
"I don't care, as long as the sun is back. I almost thought I was going to live in darkness forever just now."
"Can any big shot explain what just happened?"
Yang Hang silently exited the chat echo, pretending nothing had happened.
He actively relaxed his body and enjoyed the feeling of being served for a while.
The Acupoints on the soles of his feet were massaged just right, the muscles in his shoulders relaxed under the kneading, and the sweetness of the fruit melted on the tip of his tongue. The sea breeze blew over from the deck, carrying the smell of salt and a faint trace of blood.
But he couldn't smell it anymore.
Or rather, he had gotten used to this smell.
Until a long time passed.
He put down the cup, stood up, and walked to the edge of the deck.
Starlight sprinkled on the sea, reflecting beautiful, diamond-like light spots. The sea surface was pitch black, like ink, and very beautiful.
Stellar Body.
In short, a talent that could enhance physical strength by sunbathing.
He had extracted nearly 300 million portions of sentient beings' abilities to create a Great Black Heaven that covered all Magic Sea survivors, forcibly causing his Stellar Body to overload and skyrocket tens of millions of times.
He went to the deep sea to vent his desires.
Now that he had returned from the excitement, he sorted out some thoughts he had observed from a high dimension these days.
The beast tide the day before yesterday had a Yanhuang Civilization mortality rate of 0.3 percent; the number looked small on paper.
But he had seen with his own eyes what that "0.3 percent" looked like.
The key problem didn't stop there. Those who died in the beast tide were the minority. But after the beast tide, the wounded had no medicine, the starving had no food, and ships were destroyed with no Materials to repair them—the subsequent chain of deaths was the real killer.
The Yanhuang Civilization survivors were his foundation.
So now the time was right; he intended to verify some things.
Yang Hang mobilized Karma, his eyes flashing with faint white light.
The disaster of the Magic Sea Beast Tide lay in casualties, in the aftermath, and in people's hearts.
The former had his magic sea compass.
The latter had President Shen Qing, Zheng Yuanshan, and others.
But this wasn't enough.
President Shen Qing couldn't hold on.
Zheng Yuanshan wasn't strong enough.
The help provided by other capable Yanhuang Civilization survivors was a drop in the bucket.
The ordinary Yanhuang Civilization survivors scattered everywhere were willing but unable.
There was a personal crux in this.
Where was the crux?
Limited rescue forces were one thing.
Total supplies perhaps not being enough was the second.
But more importantly, the difficulty of material circulation—this reality, which seemed insignificant, was actually standing in front of all Yanhuang Civilization survivors.
Among 1.4 billion people, there were always people with extra salted fish, people with extra fresh water, and people who opened medicines they couldn't use.
Coupled with the harvest of the huge sea beast bodies from the beast tide and additional dropped treasure chests, as well as the supplies opened from two batches of sunken sea treasure chests. The basic total supply stock of the entire Yanhuang Camp might not be very sufficient, but at least it shouldn't be particularly scarce.
It was just that the supplies couldn't circulate.
Yang Hang had several plans.
Plan 1: Open a gold-tier supply chest and distribute supplies directly.
He rejected it in three seconds; no matter how large the supplies in a gold-tier chest were, how many tens of thousands of people could it cover? How could he fill a gap of over a billion people?
Moreover, he still faced that dilemma of material circulation; even if his Physical Body was extremely strong now, it was a fantasy for him to deliver to 1.4 billion people one by one.
Plan 2: Open a group healing item to restore the injuries of all Yanhuang Civilization survivors at once.
Very tempting.
But he used the Power of Causality to peek at the future line in this direction—there were such area-of-effect healing items in the gold-tier chests.
However, he couldn't guarantee that the item could cover the entire population of nearly 1.4 billion of the Yanhuang Civilization.
This could be used as an alternative, but the risk was too great.
Plan 3: Strengthen the compass's material positioning function to accurately match "who has what" and "who lacks what," and have the System automatically recommend the closest supply and demand pairings.
This could optimize the problem of material scarcity to a certain extent, but it couldn't solve the root cause.
Denied.
Plan 4: Add a function to exchange karma points for supplies, allowing survivors to provide enough karma points themselves, and he would act as a transit station to convert them into the needed supplies.
This was useful!
But there was still a fatal flaw: using Karma to forcibly convert supplies meant the energy passed through who knows how many hands, and the conversion rate would definitely be low; even if he didn't charge any handling fees, it probably wouldn't be affordable for ordinary survivors.
Especially on the second day after this Magic Sea Beast Tide had just subsided, many survivors hadn't caught their breath yet.
However, this was not a bad emergency plan.
He also thought about plans 5, 6, and 7—directional airdrops, converting Karma into supplies, or even directly modifying the "fate lines" of specific areas to have supplies reappear near those in urgent need.
Each one either consumed too much, had too narrow coverage, or was unsustainable.
The white light in Yang Hang's eyes faded.
He recalled the densely packed user nodes in the Karmic Star Sea, looked at the massive data filtered through the Power of Causality, and understood something.
Some people had extra hemostatic herbs.
Some people lacked hemostatic herbs but had extra salted fish.
Some people had salted fish but lacked fresh water.
Some people had fresh water but lacked cloth to repair ships.
1.4 billion nodes, 1.4 billion needs, 1.4 billion surpluses.
He didn't need to be the postman.
He only needed to build a platform.
Let sellers find buyers.
Let supply match demand.
Let 1.4 billion people save themselves.
Fate Platform Logistics System.
Item exchange function.