54: Chapter 53 The River of Cause and Effect & David Reeves

It immediately caused quite a sensation.

The entire Fate Platform was in an uproar; was this meant to be a technological development with Magic Sea characteristics?

Most Yanhuang Civilization survivors were still in the stage of barely struggling to survive, yet the Revival Society had already begun the revival of civilization.

Some criticized them for taking too big a step.

Others offered encouragement and support, feeling that the Revival Society's action was a feat beneficial to all Yanhuang Civilization survivors in the Magic Sea, as it could allow everyone to move past the stage of relying entirely on treasure chest resources.

Others, while not criticizing, were pessimistic. They felt that although the survival pressure on Yanhuang Civilization survivors had lessened significantly with the help of the Cause and Effect Fate Platform, everyone knew the terrifying sea beasts of the Magic Sea were endless. As time passed, if a high-Rank Magic Sea Beast Tide were to occur, this bit of Magic Sea scientific research would simply not be able to withstand the blow.

But regardless of whether this step succeeds in the future, it at least deepened the brand of the Revival Society as being "equivalent to the authorities."

On the second day after the Trading Realm went live, the Little Life Society and the Revival Society officially announced a partnership—the Little Life Society's medical resources and the Revival Society's material reserves would be shared, forming the prototype of the largest commercial Alliance in the Yanhuang Camp.

Then came the video function.

Once this function launched, the content ecosystem of the Fate Platform jumped directly from the text era into the video era.

Some posted live hunting footage, chasing an Iron-Clad Crab from a first-person perspective, with the comment section filled with "Damn, that's intense."

Some posted pharmaceutical tutorials, teaching step-by-step how to extract hemostatic components from sea beast internal organs.

Some filmed daily life—watching the twin suns set and rise again from a dilapidated wooden boat, accompanied by the phrase "It's good to be alive," garnering over ten million likes.

Doctors were the first to realize the value of videos. Surgeons, internists, and emergency doctors from before their Transmigration began opening remote video consultation channels.

A middle-aged man claiming to be a chief physician at a top-tier hospital posted: "Video consultations, karma points charged based on the complexity of the condition. Basic consultation is one point, specialist guidance is three points. No charge if it doesn't help. Please private message your situation to the backend before requesting a connection. Practitioner qualification screenshot link attached."

He took over fifty orders within three hours.

He was raking it in.

The value of karma points increased more than fivefold within two days.

It was no longer just a consumable for maintaining online time on the Fate Platform, but a hard currency in the true sense—it could buy medicine, food, equipment, services, and even lives.

As long as you need to trade, even if you only want to barter, you still need to pay a handling fee in karma points.

This alone guaranteed the baseline value of karma points.

With over a billion daily active users, the first day's trading volume generated a massive consumption of karma points.

Prototypes of various commercial Alliances began to grow wildly.

"Blue Sea Chamber of Commerce"—specializing in the resale of supplies, buying low and selling high to earn the price difference.

"Iron Anchor Workshop"—gathering a group of craftsmen with talents in shipbuilding and forging, undertaking custom ship repairs and weapon processing.

"Deep Sea Hunter Alliance"—organizing beast-hunting teams, accepting bounties to hunt specified sea beasts, and splitting profits based on merit and spoils.

The emergence of these economic organizations, under the mechanical gaze of Yang Hang's Divine Sense Divided Soul, was a positive development.

This was the prototype of the entire commercial ecosystem of the Cause and Effect Fate Platform, so under its rational judgment, it allowed for some profit-seeking behaviors that did not yet truly harm ordinary survivors.

The logic loop of Yang Hang's Divine Sense Divided Soul deemed it unnecessary to notify Yang Hang's main consciousness.

In just the first day, the pool Yang Hang set up in the Karmic Void Realm to store the energy collected from everyone expanded by thirty percent, or rather, it could no longer be described as an "energy pool."

As more and more karmic energy was converted, Yang Hang released its restraints, transforming it into the state of a long river, flowing eternally within the Karmic Void Realm, ceaseless and unending.

He could call upon this form of karmic energy much more adeptly. Moreover, because this river of karmic energy, transformed from the combination of the essence, energy, and spirit provided by a large number of Yanhuang Civilization survivors and foreign survivors, was surging ceaselessly, it seemed to have come alive, and the energy had become more spiritual.

It was also easier to mobilize Karma compared to before.

However, this thirty percent was quickly consumed by the visitor invitation System.

But as the Karmic Trading Realm continued its hot operation, the two unexpectedly formed a dynamic balance of consumption and replenishment.

The massive void of karmic energy that Yang Hang imagined he might face never had a chance to appear.

Even as the first batch of invited guests accepted the invitation and paid with their own essence, energy, and spirit, the river of karmic energy in the Karmic Void Realm grew a size larger with a "duang."

David Reeves hadn't had a complete bowel movement in three days.

This would have been unworthy of mention before his Transmigration. But on the sixth day in the Magic Sea, this stool was his final strategic reserve.

He carefully smeared that tiny remaining lump of excrement onto the seams of the boat's bottom planks, then lay on the deck, clutching a broken harpoon ground from a ship nail in his left hand, his right hand gripping the edge of the boat tightly, his entire body pressed motionless against the rotting wood.

The light of the twin suns scorched his back until it peeled. The salty, fishy sea breeze filled his cracked lips, and he could no longer taste anything—his tongue was coated in salt residue.

There was movement under the boat.

The sound of splashing water. It was very light, but on the absolutely quiet sea surface, it was as clear as someone knocking on a door.

One… two… three.

Silver fish shadows darted past the bottom of the boat. They had been attracted by the scent of the excrement.

David held his breath. The veins in his temples were throbbing.

He only had one chance.

The harpoon thrust out the next second.

"Snap—"

Water splashed open. The tip of the harpoon grazed the fish scales, emitting a harsh metallic scraping sound. Then—it slipped.

The three silver fish were startled, flicked their tails, and instantly disappeared into the deep blue water.

Even the residue of the excrement was washed away by the current.

David Reeves remained frozen in the thrusting posture for three seconds.

Then he threw the harpoon onto the deck.

"F@#k!"

He started smashing things. He kicked over the only broken wooden bucket, tore the rags used to block the wind to shreds, and stomped barefoot on the broken wooden planks, not even feeling the pain.

"F@#k! F@#k! F@#k!"

He finished smashing everything.

He stood in the very center of his two-meter-square dilapidated wooden boat, shirtless, his ribs countable one by one, his knees weak, his whole body like a sun-dried specimen.

Then he just went limp.

His knees hit the deck, his hands supporting him on the ground, his head hanging down. Seawater seeped up from the boat's seams, soaking his palms. He looked at the black mud and salt stains under his fingernails and suddenly laughed.

As he laughed, tears fell.

Snot and tears mixed together, dripping onto the moldy wooden planks. A warmth spread between his legs. He didn't even have the strength to care.

David Reeves, forty-two years old.

Before his Transmigration, he was a plumber in Houston, Stars and Stripes. His wife was named Nancy, who loved to nag him about forgetting to take out the trash. He had two children, the older one eight and the younger one five. His mother-in-law lived on the next street and came over for dinner every Sunday; every time she came, she would say that the faucet he fixed was still leaking.

He used to be annoyed to death by all that.

Now, he would be willing to give everything in the Magic Sea to hear Nancy nag him one more time.

His consciousness began to blur.

It wasn't sleepiness. It was his body shutting down. He hadn't eaten anything decent for three days, his fresh water had run out yesterday, and his energy was nearly depleted. His muscles were atrophying, his organs were slowing down, and his brain was prioritizing the maintenance of breathing and heartbeat, shutting down other functions one by one.

He lay on the deck, face to the side, looking at the horizon. The twin suns were slanting west, burning the sky a tangerine red.

It was quite beautiful.

He closed his eyes.

His life didn't flash before his eyes. Instead, there was a buzzing sound in his brain, and a line of text popped up.

It was glowing.

It was floating in the very center of his consciousness. It was like someone had welded a sign in his head using neon tubes.

["Cause and Effect Fate Platform" has sent you a formal invitation. Do you accept?]

[To accept the invitation, you must visualize Karma and sacrifice one-fifth of your physical strength, spirit, or blood energy to exchange for 1 initial karmic point.]

[1 karmic point can maintain your connection to the Fate Platform for six hours.]

David didn't move.

He thought this was a hallucination before death. Brain hypoxia, you know, you can see anything. Last week, he met a neighbor from the same camp who had run out of water just like him; at the time, the neighbor said he saw the Statue of Liberty standing on the sea surface waving at him—and then the next day, he saw the corpse drifting on the sea.

Taken away by the beam of light. Suicide exit.

So this line of text was also a hallucination. Right.

He ignored it.

But the line of text wouldn't go away.

He rolled over, and the text rolled with him. He closed his eyes, and the text glowed on the inside of his eyelids. He even tried shaking his head, but the text remained as steady as Mount Tai, hanging perfectly in the center of his consciousness, even beginning to flash rhythmically.

Once. Twice. Three times.

"Get lost." He cursed weakly.

Four times. Five times. Six times.

The flashing frequency increased. It was like a salesman pressing his face against your windowpane and knocking on the glass; if you didn't open the door, he wouldn't leave.

"I said get lost!"

Seven times.

"F@#k—fine! I accept! I accept it all! Do whatever you want!"

He roared in his subconscious, throwing caution to the wind.

The next second.

A terrifying suction force appeared out of thin air. David felt a large chunk of his already depleted energy being savagely bitten off by an invisible giant beast!

"Ah—!"

He opened his eyes wide, his eyeballs bulging like a dying fish. His already shriveled skin instantly lost its last bit of luster, clinging tightly to his bones; he looked exactly like a mummified corpse that had just been unearthed.

"F@#k! F@#k you!"

He used his last bit of strength to curse, then went completely limp, unable to move even a finger.

But his consciousness, at this moment, was pulled by an irresistible force, crashing into an incredible dimension.

Karmic Void Realm.

David's consciousness floated in mid-air.

He was stunned.

Presented before him was a vast, precise, and extremely prosperous virtual platform.