Chapter 72: Chapter 72: Life on the Transport Ship

In the vast interstellar space, accurately intercepting a Spaceship is extremely difficult. Since you don’t know its speed or trajectory, by the time you arrive, the target might already be tens or hundreds of millions of kilometers away. How could you possibly give chase?

"Boss, the loaded marks are on the move. However, according to the manifest, there’s a C-rank agent from the Anzhijie Company on board." In the pitch-black interstellar space, inside a kilometer-long Warship, a man hurriedly reported while holding decrypted information.

"So what if it’s Anzhijie? They’re just a bunch of sewer rats. We have Energy Armor, Mechas, and Warplanes. If anyone disobeys, kill them on the spot. Someone has already pre-ordered this batch of loaded marks for a pretty good price. As long as they aren’t overly aggressive, keep them alive. Besides, those shitty residents of Anzhijie are mostly Genetic Evolvers, and buyers will pay a premium for them," the leader sneered.

"Yes, sir!"

"Boss, should we have our guys roleplay as Bird Slayer Brother and start a live stream in the game? We took a huge loss last time. Our Mechas are worth a fortune. No wonder people curse this trash game—the compensation payout alone could buy an actual Mecha in reality."

"Oh? That’s a good idea. Bird Slayer Brother always uses the same tricks anyway. But who should we get to pilot the third-generation Mecha? We’re all Elites here."

"There will definitely be some suitable candidates among the loaded marks this time. We’ll just keep a few alive."

"True."

"Those bastards from the Justice Gang are cursing us on the forums. Don’t let me find out who they are, or I’ll slaughter those dogs."

"They’re just losers who get pushed around in reality."

Yang Bo was dealing with a massive headache. The books were given to him by the fat boss. He didn’t even want to talk about the Secret Techniques, which were all about breaking through one’s limits—holding one’s breath, meditating, hovering between life and death. Damn it, did he have a death wish? With a body full of Superpowers, why would he go out of his way to court death? What if he actually died?

Ancient Martial Arts were incredibly obscure. They were just basic moves—one or two stances, one-handed handstands, meditation, and forming some kind of hand seals. He didn’t understand it; he really didn’t understand any of it.

"It seems my individual talent is just lacking. If it weren’t for my mysterious abilities, I’d be a useless pig for the rest of my life," Yang Bo muttered, tossing the books aside. Reading this stuff was like trying to understand advanced mechanics or advanced algebra. He couldn’t understand it, plain and simple.

That was just how people were. Those with talent could figure things out on their own, while those without talent simply couldn’t.

"Forget it, I’ll just treat it as a break." Yang Bo stepped out to take a stroll and look around. The Spaceship had a restaurant, a bar, an entertainment center, and even gambling machines for live betting.

Approaching a gambling machine, Yang Bo lightly patted it, only to discover that it was entirely mechanical. He took a closer look at the instructions.

It turned out that the gambling company used purely mechanical designs without a single circuit board to avoid any suspicion of cheating. In other words, it was based purely on luck.

He wondered, "Should I make some pocket money?" When he patted the machine earlier, his Sound Waves Superpower had mapped out its structure. Upon physical contact, he realized that his Metal Control could perceive the even more complex and precise designs inside.

Mechanical it might be, but the probabilities of mechanical devices could still be adjusted. However, Yang Bo didn’t place a bet. This stuff was highly addictive. Besides, the people who ran these kinds of companies were absolutely shameless—if you lost, they’d see you off politely; if you won, they’d still see you off... ahem.

Arriving at the gaming area, Yang Bo’s eyes lit up. There were entertainment facilities similar to Earth’s arcade shooters. He entered a small, private room, put on a gaming Helmet, grabbed a simulated Laser Gun, and began his adventure.

The game was free, a single-player experience. Yang Bo closed the door to the small room, followed the prompts to put on the Helmet, and picked up the Laser Gun.

He thought, "So this is how you use a Laser Gun?" Yang Bo now knew how to operate one. Truth be told, he had never had access to such things before, yet here he was, learning about them through a game.

Many toys were modeled after their real-life counterparts.

"This is thrilling," he said. The Laser Gun itself made no sound when fired, but the game provided sound effects for the adventure, which was set on an alien planet.

The floor was equipped with a treadmill-like setup that allowed for 360-degree turning. As he walked, turned, and moved around on it, his actions were perfectly reflected in the game.

At first, Yang Bo was unfamiliar with the controls, but he gradually got the hang of it. His Dynamic Field of View came into play.

Firing a Laser Gun required accounting for lead time at different distances. Although the adjustment was minuscule, mastering it was no easy feat.

An hour later, Yang Bo exited the game, deep in thought. It was a single-player game, sure, but the game’s settings felt incredibly realistic. He had seen some of these elements in the Mecha game before, though there were no Mutants in this one.

This was especially true when hunting certain Mutated Beasts. Some beasts possessed special abilities, meaning he had to target their weak points rather than taking them head-on.

He thought, "Looks like I need to play these more often."

Yang Bo’s eyes lit up again as he noticed a Mecha game. The control room looked exactly like an actual Mecha Operation cabin.

"Tsk, tsk, these gaming companies are truly audacious," he murmured. It reminded Yang Bo of the toy companies in Mei on Earth. They had dared to sell nuclear reactor toys, leading to a reckless brat nearly destroying an entire city. They also sold nuclear submarine toys that revealed the internal layout of actual submarines. Back when radium was first discovered, they had even sold glowing glass.

He wondered, "Could it be that these gaming companies are also part of the government’s grand plan? In case Mutant Creatures appear one day, at least a portion of the population will have acquired some Skills?" However, with his mind turning quickly, Yang Bo soon thought of another possibility.

He selected another game—a doomsday survival simulator. It was filled with various Mutants and Mutant Creatures, requiring players to scavenge for supplies and fight to survive.

He reasoned, "Who cares if the events in these games actually happen in reality? I have nothing else to do anyway." Yang Bo wasn’t familiar with the fat boss’s other subordinates, and they seemed to look down on him a bit. After all, the senior employees had likely worked together before. Wu Bin wasn’t here, and he had no idea where he was.

Furthermore, he was the weakest among them. In any enterprise or company, veteran employees were rarely overly friendly to newcomers. Some even deliberately drove away the new hires out of fear that the boss would replace them.

The fat boss watched Yang Bo play games every day but could do nothing about it. He figured they would deal with it once they arrived at the March Star. Even if Yang Bo lacked any talent for Genetic Evolution, the company had more than enough Ordinary task orders. There was no way he would take a loss on him.

Still, the fat boss decided it was time to have a chat with Yang Bo. The two sat down together, and the fat boss asked, "So, how is it? Is the interstellar travel treating you well?"

"Thank you, Boss. It’s much better than I imagined," Yang Bo replied, picking up a drink and taking a sip.

The fat boss then asked, "Have you gained any insights from reading those books?"

"Boss, I don’t understand them at all. I recognize the individual words, but when they’re put together, I can’t grasp the meaning." Yang Bo shook his head, a look of distress on his face.

The fat boss chuckled. "That’s perfectly normal. Secret Techniques and Ancient Martial Arts both require a master to pass them down. This is exactly why Ancient Martial Arts have been in steady decline—the requirements for an individual’s innate talent are simply too high.

"However, there is no limit to one’s growth with Ancient Martial Arts and Secret Techniques, whereas Genetic Potions have their limitations."

Hearing this, Yang Bo asked in surprise, "Why is that?"

"Because the raw materials used in Genetic Potions have an upper limit," the fat boss continued. "The Genetic Evolution stimulated by these materials naturally has a ceiling. On the other hand, Ancient Martial Arts and Secret Techniques rely on activating one’s own Power. Of course, most people don’t actually need to worry about this, because everyone has their own limit, and those with a high ceiling are extremely rare."

Yang Bo nodded in agreement. It made sense. Everyone started off thinking they were special, but what was the result? The vast majority ended up living mediocre lives.

Taking the opportunity, Yang Bo asked a question that had been on his mind for a long time. "Boss, what are the differences between the levels of Genetic Evolvers, and how exactly are they determined?"

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