63: Chapter 63 The Vastness of the World

Chen Mo sat cross-legged on the edge of the cliff, carefully reviewing every change that had occurred since his Breakthrough from start to finish.

Force Field manipulation, hormonal regulation, range of perception, and the absorption efficiency of spirit energy particles.

Then, he stood up and looked down at Beier Lake beneath his feet.

This lake had kept him company for 83 days.

From the beginning, when the water pressure at 1,600 meters required his full effort to resist, to now, where the pressure at the bottom of the lake felt almost like air.

Chen Mo's body had grown stronger.

Strong enough that the deepest lake in this part of the world could no longer contain him.

He needed deeper pressure.

Stronger pressure meant higher training intensity, and higher training intensity meant faster growth.

Now that his flight ability was unlocked, his Force Field could evade all optical and electromagnetic detection; existing human technological means were now rendered useless against him.

The world was vast, and he could go anywhere.

He turned and walked back into the karst cave.

There was still a small portion of oil left in the barrels inside the cave, and the tent fabric had become brittle from the lake winds.

He cleaned out the cave, rolled up the tent, stacked it with the oil barrels, and stuffed all the extra clutter into his backpack.

Then, he retreated to the cave entrance, raised his right arm, and smashed a fist into the rock wall at the top of the cave.

The force of the punch penetrated the rock from his knuckles, and cracks exploded outward with the point of impact as the center.

A second punch, a third punch.

The entire rock layer at the top of the cave collapsed with a roar.

Rubble poured down, burying the oil barrels, the tent, and all traces of anyone having lived here for over two months deep within the cliff face.

After the rocks settled, only a rugged stone wall remained at the cave entrance, blending in with the surrounding mountain.

Chen Mo stood at the edge of the cliff, taking one last look at Beier Lake.

The lake surface remained azure blue.

Then, he bent his knees and leaped into the air.

His body did not fall; the Force Field had already unfurled the moment he jumped, lifting him up into the sky.

He passed over the cliffs of Cape Khoboy, soared over the canopy of the Taiga Forest, and his altitude climbed rapidly.

Upon reaching an altitude of 5,000 meters, he leveled off into horizontal flight.

His Force Field stretched into a teardrop shape at the front, letting the air glide over his surface without resistance.

His speed stabilized at 600 meters per second, nearly twice the speed of sound.

Beier Lake below shrank rapidly, and the outline of Olkhon Island became a thin, dark shadow on the lake's surface.

He flew toward the southeast, his target clear: the Mariana Trench.

The deepest known location on the Earth's surface, with its deepest point exceeding 11,000 meters.

From Cape Khoboy to the Mariana Trench, the straight-line distance was about 5,500 kilometers.

At his current speed, he would arrive in about two and a half hours.

Chen Mo flew in a straight line, crossing Mongolia, China, the East China Sea, and heading straight into the Philippine Sea.

The landscape beneath his feet began to change rapidly.

Thirty-three minutes later, he flew out of the Russian border and entered the eastern grasslands of Mongolia.

Looking down from an altitude of 5,000 meters, the grassland had completely changed.

When he had trekked through here over two months ago, the ground was still semi-desertified Gobi and sparse grassland.

Now, those bare sandy lands were covered by a thick layer of green; the formerly scattered shrubs had merged into patches, and rows of larch and birch trees had sprouted amidst the grass.

The grassland was turning into a forest.

The tree crowns crowded together, shading the ground completely, with only the occasional valley cut by a river revealing a hint of the earth's color.

He saw herds of wild horses running across the grassland, their manes streaming in the wind like lines.

Sixty-four minutes later, he flew into Chinese airspace.

He first passed over the North China Plain, then entered the East China coast.

Below were massive urban clusters—high-rises, tower cranes, resettlement zones, and isolation belts spread densely to the horizon.

New railway lines drew straight gray lines between the cities, and the highways were dense with traffic.

The isolation belts at the edges of the cities were particularly striking, with upturned, exposed soil; outside lay dense, impenetrable primeval forests, and inside were complexes of reinforced concrete.

Then, he saw that river.

The Nine-Bend River.

Looking down from 5,000 meters, the Nine-Bend River looked like a muddy, yellow Dragon, winding and surging from west to east.

The river water carried silt from the Loess Plateau, drawing winding arcs across the North China Plain.

Then, he saw the estuary.

The muddy yellow river water collided with the azure Bohai Sea, forming a clear boundary line. Muddy yellow and jewel blue confronted each other on the sea surface, the boundary line winding and tortuous yet not blurred in the slightest, as if two colors had been splashed onto a canvas at the same time.

Eighty-six minutes later, Chen Mo flew past the East China coastline and entered the airspace over the East China Sea.

The seawater below transitioned from the light blue of the continental shelf to the jewel blue of the deep-sea zone.

Clouds rolled beneath him, occasionally revealing archipelagos on the sea surface.

Those islands were like pearls scattered across the sea, with fishing boats weaving between them, their white wakes like thread sewn into blue silk.

He saw the estuary of the Yunmeng River, where the river water and seawater met to form a vast brackish water zone.

The color transitioned from murky yellowish-brown to pale green, and then to deep blue.

Chen Mo watched all of this quietly, his heart incomparably calm.

So, this world was this beautiful.

It was not the kind of beauty frozen in a photograph, or beauty enclosed by scenic railings.

It was a living, flowing beauty that slowly unfolded beneath his feet.

In the past, when he took high-speed trains, rode trains, or walked through forests, his vision was fragmented by obstacles on the ground.

Now, this vast expanse of land and ocean spread out beneath him without reservation, every detail clearly visible.

That sense of freedom overflowed from his chest, but it was not excitement; it was a quieter kind of satisfaction.

After flying past the continental shelf, the color of the seawater instantly turned into a deep jewel blue.

That blue was not the grayish-blue of coastal waters, nor the azure of lakes, but the deep blue unique to the deep sea, bordering on ink-black.

Beneath the water surface, the shadow of the continental slope was faintly visible; that was the boundary line where the seabed dropped sharply from the shallow sea area into the deep-sea basin.

The sky was also exceptionally pure; far away from land, without any industrial pollution, the blue was so deep it seemed as if it were about to drip down.

One hour and forty-three minutes later, Chen Mo entered the Philippine Sea Basin.

The color of the seawater deepened again, changing from deep blue to an ink-blue that was almost black.

The seabed here was already a deep-sea basin several thousand meters deep; sunlight could only penetrate the surface layer for a few dozen meters, and beyond that was eternal darkness.

Waves surged on the sea surface, the crests reflecting blinding white light in the sunlight.

Chen Mo was less than ten minutes away from the Mariana Trench.

The color of the seawater continued to change as he flew, transitioning from ink-blue to ink-black, as if more and more ink had been poured into the water.

When sunlight could no longer penetrate to the bottom, the sea surface would take on this color.

The waves were also getting bigger and bigger.

Two and a half hours later, Chen Mo hovered above the sea surface.

Beneath his feet was the Mariana Trench.

The sea surface had completely turned ink-black, with turbulent waves.

The white foam was particularly striking against the black water surface, rolling in one after another, with waves over ten meters high.

The air was filled with the salty, fishy smell unique to the deep sea, and the wind was strong, blowing his clothes so they clung tightly to his body.

Chen Mo looked down at the black sea area beneath his feet.

From here downward, passing through the surface water to reach the bottom, the depth exceeded 11,000 meters.

The pressure there was seven times that of the deepest part of Lake Baikal.

The water pressure was high enough to compress and deform steel, to crush a submarine's hull like a soda can.

Chen Mo took a deep breath and retracted his Force Field.

His body fell under the influence of gravity; his toes touched the sea surface first, and then his entire body submerged into the ink-black seawater.