131: Chapter 131 Data Black Hole, the Hidden Mist Town

Jiang Feng relaxed his fingers with a dark expression.

A muffled thud echoed.

The Prophet's thin, withered frame, weighing less than eighty jin, lost its support and collapsed back into the backrest of the wheelchair like a discarded sack with its bones removed.

A cough wheezed out of his mouth.

His two withered, useless legs trembled uncontrollably on the wheelchair footrests.

"Have you played enough of your act?"

"If you've acted enough, hand over the item."

"Don't force me to go through the trouble of giving you a high thoracic spinal cord injury."

The Prophet's hands, which had been typing fast enough to leave afterimages on the keyboard a second ago, were now trembling uncontrollably.

He hung his head, his withered fingers inching along the metal frame on the side of the wheelchair.

After fumbling for a long while, he finally pried open a hidden latch concealed at the bottom of the base.

A crisp mechanical click sounded.

The metal armor plate popped outward, revealing a palm-sized secret compartment.

With trembling hands, he fished an old kraft paper bag out of the dust-covered compartment and shakily held it out.

The electronic synthesized voice sounded again from the broken speaker.

The voice had long since lost its previous haughty air, leaving only an extreme, exhausted weakness.

"Take it, see for yourself."

Jiang Feng snatched the paper bag from those claw-like hands.

"This service attitude doesn't live up to your omniscient and omnipotent reputation."

The Prophet turned his face away, not daring to look directly at the living Yama in front of him.

"To piece together this bit of substantial information, I overclocked and burned out the hardware of three supercomputing server rooms."

The synthesized voice from the speaker came out intermittently.

"I used the most ancient brute-force method to extract this coordinate from tens of billions of pieces of junk information."

"The ultimate cure clue you wanted is perhaps all in there."

Jiang Feng impatiently interrupted his attempt to claim credit.

"Tens of billions?"

"It really is hard on your concerning brain capacity."

"I hope the junk in this bag is worth the electricity bill you paid today."

Borrowing the dim light from the monitors nearby, he yanked his wrist and violently tore the cotton string sealing the bag.

A stack of printed paper and several old, yellowing, curled-edged photos fell out.

Jiang Feng shook the papers open, his gaze scanning quickly over the dust-covered surface.

The first page was a copy of a handwritten note at least twenty years old.

Jiang Feng read the woman's signature aloud.

"Fiend?"

"You're trying to fool me with the ravings of a dead woman?"

The synthesized voice in the speaker was full of anxiety.

"Don't be impatient, keep looking."

The paper was covered in detailed anatomical drawings of the human brain.

The further he flipped, the more manic and chaotic the handwriting appeared.

Circles of messy black lines were forcefully drawn over the emotional center of the human brain, with a delusional remark written crookedly beside it.

"Cut away the excess, and you can create the most perfect vessel."

"The soil in that place contains ingredients that can reshape divine miracles."

Jiang Feng rolled his eyes speechlessly, pulled out this page, and tossed it aside.

"Soil that reshapes divine miracles?"

"You might as well just give me an immortality pill; that would be more realistic."

The second document was immediately revealed before his eyes.

It was a top-secret geological survey file from the early days of the Huake Institute's Deep Well Base.

Jiang Feng stared at the small text and read it aloud.

"The soil layer beneath the deep well contains strange mineral elements that don't exist on Earth?"

His voice sank lower as he read this line.

Two things that originally had nothing to do with each other had strangely converged on that last yellowed, curled-up hand-drawn map.

There were no latitude or longitude markings on that map.

In the very center of the crevices between several continuous mountain ranges, someone had drawn a heavy circle with a red pen.

Beside it, three words were written crookedly.

Wuyin Town.

Jiang Feng pinched the map with two fingers and shoved it directly in front of the Prophet's pale face.

"Stop playing these cryptic word games with me!"

"What the hell does this damn place have to do with the terminal illness in my brain?"

"If you can't explain it clearly, I'll upgrade you from paraplegia to full-body paralysis right now!"

The Prophet slumped in the wheelchair like a pile of mud.

The electronic voice echoed violently between the drafty walls, permeated with the fervor of someone nearing death.

"This is the breeding ground for all anomalous events!"

"This is also the only reason you can survive!"

Jiang Feng shook his wrist forcefully, making the paper rustle loudly.

"I told you to talk logic, not to make grand vows here!"

The Prophet swallowed hard, and his throat vocalizer burst with static.

"I've checked your medical records from all the major hospitals!"

"Late-stage malignant glioblastoma!"

"In modern medicine, this disease is a death sentence!"

"According to human lifespan formulas, you should have been a pile of ashes long ago!"

Jiang Feng raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Oh?"

"Your scope of business is quite broad, checking up on me?"

The Prophet roared in a shrill voice, making one's eardrums ache.

"My algorithms simply cannot deduce the principle behind why you are still standing here breathing!"

"But I can reverse-engineer the process!"

"Fiend went to that coordinate back then, and when she returned, she created the Eden Project!"

"The Huake Institute dug up Pre-Qin Bamboo Slips there that could contaminate the reality of the environment!"

"The rules in that place completely overturned all human physical common sense!"

Jiang Feng sneered and immediately retorted.

"And then?"

"If I sign up for a tour group there, will my brain cancer automatically heal?"

The Prophet shouted from the wheelchair.

"That is a data black hole where even the most advanced ground-penetrating radar would fail!"

"For fifty years, no outsider has been able to walk out of there in one piece!"

"You have already been sentenced to death in the normal world outside!"

"If you want to break the inevitable death sentence, you have no choice but to go to that ghost place that doesn't follow scientific laws!"

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, his two withered hands gripping the wheelchair armrests.

"Since conventional medical means are ineffective, then go and borrow supernatural rules to erase your lesion!"

"Fight poison with poison, use magic to defeat science!"

"This is the only path of survival you can find in terms of mathematical probability!"

The server room returned to absolute silence.

Only those few burned-out server casings were still emitting foul-smelling black smoke.

Jiang Feng stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the withered, useless man in the wheelchair.

He paused for a full five seconds without saying a word.

He was feeling the feedback brought by the Eye of Truth.

It was true; although a bit ambiguous, it was indeed a viable method.

After five seconds, he nimbly folded the document papers twice.

He stuffed the junk back into the old kraft paper bag, tucked it into the innermost secret pocket of his jacket, and patted it twice to confirm the position.

Jiang Feng had calculated this account as clearly as could be in his mind.

Just now, in order to overturn the outcome of that cup of poisoned water, he had forcefully burned away nearly four hundred days of his lifespan.

Working like a beast of burden every day to scrape for life, sooner or later, he would be completely drained of his blood and marrow.

Since this Wuyin Town was the source of all anomalous things in the world, he had to go there.

If he didn't dig out the method to cure this damn disease with interest, and firmly hold his own survival capital in his hands, he wouldn't be able to close his eyes even in death.

Before Jiang Feng could speak, a strange noise suddenly came from above the abandoned building.

A sharp, long wail pressed down from all directions.

A dull, directional explosion sound rushed straight down along the stairwell.

A thunderous roar followed in the direction of the first-floor lobby.

The server room ceiling trembled incessantly, and large patches of white dust fell down.

The strong light of high-power tactical flashlights crudely cut through the darkness of the basement, directly sealing off all exits on the second basement level.

Zhao Yi's rough voice forcefully cut through the air.

"All squads, pay attention to tactical formations!"

"Block the second basement level passages completely!"

"Seal off all exits!"

"Don't let a single fly get out!"

"Did you all understand?!"

It was completely over now.

The Prophet stared blankly, his withered body sliding down a significant distance along the wheelchair backrest.

The thief's den that he had worked so hard to manage was completely uprooted today.

Jiang Feng nonchalantly brushed the white dust off his jacket and turned to walk toward the door with large strides.

When stepping over the tangled, waste wires covering the floor, he happened to pass by the wheelchair.

Jiang Feng tilted his head, his peripheral vision sweeping obliquely over the Prophet, who was struggling to catch his breath.

"Where are those thermal imaging and algorithmic predictions you were so proud of?"

"Your damn altar is officially closed for business today."