Chapter 1136: Chapter 1135: Preparations for Seniors Before Getting Online

User "Highspeed Stag" enters the neural network pre-connection area.

Amon felt a voice directly echo in his mind—it startled him at first, as it had been a long time since he heard something resonate directly in his consciousness, and it even made him momentarily think he had accidentally connected with mortal followers in the real world again. But he quickly calmed himself and became puzzled by the term "Highspeed Stag" mentioned by the voice.

...He understood each of the words, but how did they form a phrase? Why did this phrase always feel oddly peculiar? And who was speaking? A mythical network administrator or some autonomous mind?

Amon pondered in confusion, but before he could figure anything out, the flickering lights before his eyes rapidly came into focus, diverting his attention—this once God of Nature opened his "eyes" for the first time in the network space. He saw himself standing in a nearly pure white space, vast yet not boundless. In the far distance, he could see snow-white walls rising from the ground, extending upwards into a boundless dazzling light. On the gray-white floor beneath his feet, neat, glowing blue grids were visible, and in the air around him, magic symbols occasionally fell swiftly, appearing like raindrops, quickly falling and dissolving into the grid lines on the floor.

This truly is a strange place... It looks empty; could this be the so-called "Neural Network Mindspace"? Seems like that’s the name... Doesn’t look very interesting...

Amon’s mind was getting more confused. He vaguely recalled Milmina had previously told him some common knowledge about this space, and those nervous mortal technicians who came here to install equipment had also explained some things to him. But somehow, upon entering here, the useful knowledge swiftly vanished, leaving him perplexed about what he should do next.

Just then, that gentle yet emotionless voice once again penetrated his ears, interrupting this former deity’s random musings: "An anonymous visitor requests to enter your pre-connection area. Do you accept the visit? You may expel visitors at any time."

Amon wasn’t adept at these peculiar gadgets created by mortals, but he wasn’t lacking in comprehension. He understood the meaning of the voice and, feeling slightly surprised, quickly attempted to give a response: "Accept. So how do I accept? Say it out loud? Or just think it in my mind..."

Before he could finish speaking, the voice directly echoing in his mind spoke up: "Visitor application accepted. Neural network preparing thought projection, please wait..."

Amon froze for a moment, voicing his mild annoyance: "Alright, still didn’t get the hang of whether I should speak or just think it."

He muttered. However, before his voice faded, he suddenly noticed something appearing not far away in the air—chaotic, trembling lines of light which swiftly coalesced, forming a clear human body. Within the short span of one or two seconds, he saw a lady dressed in a lavish, intricate black court dress appear there.

The lady’s face was sweet and serene, her long black hair’s tips shimmering with silver-white luster, as her gown resembled the night sky adorned with exquisite silver patterns and subtle golden tassels. She stood there like a noble lady from the court, exuding a mysterious yet languid aura—but this demeanor seemed to hold no significance for Amon.

He quickly identified the identity of that figure based on intuition—a self-invited guest, pioneer of network pilfering, an ardent runner in the Shadow Realm, an unauthorized Practitioner praised at his funeral—the Lady Milmina.

"I guessed it was you," Amon said in a tone of complete composure while observing the distant figure, "What’s with this place? Is this within that so-called ’neural network’?"

"I knew you’d forgotten the things I told you, coming here to help really was correct," Milmina walked toward Amon, whose tone carried a hint of helplessness, "Don’t you remember? I told you you’d initially enter a preparatory area—the virtual space inside the neural network operates like an orderly, running real world, with its own rules for activities within. Every user must do preparation work before officially entering this world, including setting up their avatar within the network and adapting to the neural link’s sensations.

"Of course, it is said that the very first versions of network space weren’t like that; back then, users were thrown into virtual space directly upon establishing a connection. But after several incidents where initial users almost got lost, those mortal technicians enhanced the network space’s rules. After all, this system is designed for a large number of ordinary people to use; those ordinary people aren’t trained or possess the strong will of the Transcendent..."

"Alright, alright, I get it, this is ’pre-birth preparation,’" Amon repeated, "So now we’re actually standing outside that world, and I need to do some preparation here to enter, right?"

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but glance at Milmina more frequently—though her current form generally maintained her "mythical posture," it was evidently quite different. She now appeared more like an ordinary mortal, with a tangible body and a clear visage, at least... now under her skirt, she surely had legs.

"So this is your ’preparation’? To make yourself look more like a mortal... that’s reasonable, as we’re about to enter a world full of mortal avatars, can’t appear too strange," Amon said while inquisitively asking, "What should I do then?"

"First, you need to understand your current appearance," Milmina seemed keen, with a casual wave of her hand, a gigantic mirror appeared before Amon, "Here, you can control everything with your thoughts—shape objects, alter your appearance, travel to certain places... your imagination is what you can utilize here. Of course, there are still limitations, and given the presence of numerous extremely dangerous polluting factors in our ’imagination,’ we’ll face severe restrictions. Operations that might lead to adverse outcomes are warned and blocked by the system. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it soon, and you probably won’t purposely conjure up thoughts of destroying the world, will you?"

Amon had already tuned out Milmina’s last half-sentence; his gaze was focused on that suddenly appeared mirror, where a middle-aged man he found quite unfamiliar stood, looking at him with equally astonished eyes.

It was a mortal, simple yet vivid, who, though seemingly just a reflection, felt truly alive somewhere in the world. Amon had imagined countless times how he might look if he gained freedom, able to walk freely among mortals, but never did he expect that the image he couldn’t even manifest from within himself would one day appear so abruptly yet naturally before him.

He broke the silence, his voice tinged with an unusual tone: "This... this avatar is..."

"This is the system’s default male form, designed to facilitate beginners like you to smoothly enter the network—not to end up a twisted freak or run around naked in the virtual dream city. The neural network’s designers set this basic template during the initial Immersion Capsule phase, assuming it to be the most ordinary and mediocre appearance within the human world. A program once explored this topic, but at the time you didn’t..." Milmina casually stated, but quickly noticed Amon’s peculiar silence, prompting her to ask, "What’s wrong? You seem suddenly troubled..."

"I... no, it’s your misconception," Amon immediately responded, and waved his hand forcefully, an involuntary gesture that stiffened him like stone the next moment as he realized—he just waved his arm.

An arm like that of a mortal.

He lowered his head and saw himself for the first time in this virtual space—a perfectly ordinary body standing on the ground, draped in a white short robe and trousers, with limbs, a torso, and..."touch."

Lady Milmina observed Amon’s reaction, as if she had anticipated all of this. The former Goddess of Magic suddenly smiled and stepped forward lightly, "Now, let me show you how it’s done."

The subsequent adjustments weren’t easy. Amon took a long time to grasp the "simple operations" Lady Milmina mentioned, but he spent more effort adapting to having a "humanoid body." As a god born from mortal thoughts, his image had long been confined by mortal imagination into that of a holy white Giant Stag, and among his powers, "transforming into a human" or "walking the world" weren’t included. Thus, he had never owned a humanoid body’s form before. The overly intricate limbs and the need for an upright torso... were an excessively strange sensation for him.

But eventually, these efforts bore fruit. Lady Milmina displayed unprecedented patience this time. When she stepped back, a completely different figure stood in front of the huge mirror.

It was an elder elf who was no longer young, with hair that should have been golden, now tainted with the gray-white frost of wind and age. His calm and placid features held the marks left by time. His eye sockets were deep, cheekbones high, yet his stance remained upright. His clothes were richly styled in an elven fashion, though perhaps outdated in the outside world by thousands of years, dressed in a light green robe. The surface of the clothing was adorned with vines and thorns, while the collar depicted silhouettes of high mountains and flowing water.

He looked into the mirror and suddenly smiled, appearing quite satisfied with his new image.

"I thought you’d create a more spirited appearance for yourself, but you chose such an aged form," Lady Milmina looked somewhat surprised at the satisfied Amon, "Are you sure this is the look you want? We can still make changes."

"No, this is good enough..." Amon gently nodded, his tone a bit ethereal, "This feels pretty good."

"Well... okay, it’s your aesthetic," Lady Milmina shrugged, hands on her hips, "Are you not going to walk a few steps? I think it’s necessary for you to get used to it—this might prevent you from crawling out when you take your first step in the dream city streets, even though mortals these days say ’in the network, nobody knows what you really are,’ but crawling on the streets of dream city would surely distress your godliness."

"It’s not that exaggerated," Amon couldn’t help but laugh, but then quickly restrained his smile, looked down at his legs, "Walk... right, I can move now."

"You’ve been able to move for quite a while," Lady Milmina said leisurely, "but this step might not be as easy as you imagine."

"It’s just a step, what’s the..." Amon expressed disdain as he lifted his leg to walk forward—only to topple straight forward the next second, but a pair of hands quickly stretched out from the side to hold him steadily.

"I said, the first step isn’t that easy," Lady Milmina released her hold, revealing a teasing smile, "You’d better get used to this sensation of mental unlocking here in the virtual space first."

"Mental unlocking... Your choice of words is too serious," Amon disguised his embarrassment, "It was just a small mistake, you know, I haven’t walked for three thousand years, and even three thousand years ago I didn’t walk upright... This is quite a mess, do those mortals find walking such a challenge every day?"

"Stop complaining. If anyone should complain, it’s me—I never expected my first official day using the Neural Network would be spent accompanying a long-disabled elder in rehabilitation training," Lady Milmina’s voice came from the side, carrying a thick grievance, "Hopefully, you won’t spend as much time on ’upright walking’ as you did on image adjustment, Old Deer."

While Amon attempted to acclimate to the peculiar sensation brought by his virtual body, he couldn’t help but frown at the Goddess of Magic, "I already said, don’t casually give me nicknames, especially ones that sound as strange as that..."

As he spoke, he suddenly paused, as though he just remembered something, with a hint of suspicion, he asked, "I happen to have something to ask you, when I entered this space earlier I think I heard a voice saying something about a user ’Highspeed Stag’ entering the pre-connection area... Do you know what that’s about?"

Lady Milmina’s slightly lazy expression momentarily froze, although it was just a brief moment, but the stiffness didn’t escape Amon’s eyes.

"So you know," Amon’s gaze turned more focused, "What exactly does this word mean?"

Lady Milmina glanced at Amon with increasing awkwardness, and after a longer period of silence, she finally couldn’t help but avert her gaze, "It’s your name."

"...My name?"

"Think about it for a moment, from a security perspective, can Gawain Cecil allow us to enter the neural network under our real names? Which mortal in this world dares to give himself a god’s name under any circumstance?" Lady Milmina explained earnestly, "Moreover, giving oneself a pseudonym in the neural network is essentially a customary rule..."

"No, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking... why it’s ’Highspeed Stag’! I don’t remember making any such operation myself—I might not understand the technical principles behind all this, but I’m quite certain, this bizarre term definitely wasn’t pre-set by either Gawain or Kamel!"

"...Alright, I registered it for you..."

Amon: "?"

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