Chapter 672 Beautiful Misunderstanding
Even though the "Lord" never asked for anything in return from him, he was so silent as if he didn't exist.
On the contrary, he himself would receive the gift of power from the "Lord" for free every now and then without any warning, which made him feel a little unworthy.
Either strengthen the bones, sharpen the claws, or replenish the qi and blood.
Each increase in power was different, but this morning's increase was particularly violent, far exceeding any previous ones.
Compared to himself before he was kidnapped a month ago, Chen Fengrui has never tried it, but he can feel that he is terrifyingly strong now.
I could probably easily tear apart the 100 previous selves.
In fact, there is a very beautiful misunderstanding...
Feng Mu always thought that the gift of [Agency's Gift] was a one-time thing.
Because the previous [Agency Gift lv1] entry description clearly stated: A believer can only be given one ability initially, and the ability value is anchored to your current state, and the believer can inherit 50%-99%.
Therefore, Feng Mu has always understood that the ability value inherited by the believer is fixed at the state of "the moment of bestowal" and is frozen from then on.
Given that he himself was relatively weak when he bestowed the ability, he naturally did not believe that the 44 agents who inherited that little ability could truly inherit and develop much power.
Naturally, they were not expected to play any role in the short term, so after the gift was given, they were ignored or forgotten.
But in fact, the "current" in this entry "take your current state as the anchor point" is not a one-time static moment, but a continuous, dynamic, and constant comparison.
In other words, with every upgrade, big or small, every attribute increase, and every ability enhancement of Feng Mu, the 44 agents will all receive synchronous improvements.
Although the agents initially only obtained the ability of [molding embryo], and Feng Mu's [molding embryo] skill level itself did improve relatively slowly.
But his four-dimensional attributes have been steadily improving.
The lethality of [Shaping Embryo], or most skills, is directly linked to the strength of the basic attribute values.
This led to a result that Feng Mu had never expected - he always thought that his 44 agents were still a group of newly planted "seedlings", but in fact, this group of believers had already followed the "Lord" and upgraded several times like a rocket.
Especially last night, the [Agency's Gift] entry itself was upgraded from LV1 to LV2, and the global enhancement it brought about made all agents collectively experience a qualitative leap like a complete transformation.
It cannot be said that all of them will grow into towering trees, but it should not be a problem for them to grow into a few strong "man-eating plants".
The ultimate result of this wonderful misunderstanding was that he gave free power to the agents too many times without asking for anything in return or even notifying them.
To put it in a more vivid way, the boss is out there running business every day to make money, and the 44 employees stay at home every day, doing nothing. They just wake up and their wages are deposited into their accounts.
It's simply the reverse of Tiangang.
I ask, where in the world can you find such a generous boss?
Then, wouldn’t the employees’ devotion and love for their boss be rising rapidly?
In this situation, if you don't remain devoted to your boss and serve him till death, you really are not worthy of being a human being.
After Chen Fengrui slammed his forehead against the Lord of the Void until it turned red, he slowly got up and put on his clothes.
When I pushed open the bedroom door, a faint aroma of synthetic food hit me in the face. The house was not big, about 50 square meters, and was roughly divided into two rooms and a small living room that also served as a kitchen.
A woman with gray hair on her temples came out of the kitchen and brought three bowls of grayish-white synthetic porridge to the table.
The porridge was so thin that you could almost see your reflection in it, and there were a few swollen artificial wheat grains at the bottom of the bowl.
A middle-aged man was sitting at the table, staring down at his cell phone screen.
The clear yet emotionless voice of the morning news announcer came from the phone:
“…Once again, we urge all unregistered residents to seize the final registration deadline and go to the designated locations in each neighborhood as soon as possible to register your identity information and receive your citizenship code.
This is the basis for integrating into society and enjoying rights and interests, and it is also the first step to becoming a glorious and formal citizen.
I repeat, today is the deadline for blank citizen identity registration. Below are the detailed addresses and opening hours of the street stations..."
The recent news in District 9 mainly revolves around the air tax. As for the major incident that occurred in Jade Garden yesterday, it naturally could not appear in the news.
Chen Fengrui walked to the table, pulled out the creaking old chair, and a sneer appeared on his face.
The middle-aged man raised his eyes from the mobile phone screen and glanced at his son. His eyes were mixed with fatigue and helplessness, and his deeply wrinkled brows were furrowed even tighter.
But he didn't say anything in the end, he just crossed out the news and made an advertisement.
The voice from the phone became excited and exaggerated, accompanied by a cheerful background music:
“…To celebrate the comprehensive upgrade of Shangcheng’s air purification system, bringing sweet air to all residents.
Tengguang Technology, a subsidiary of Guangming Group, has launched a groundbreaking product - the "Qingxin" series breathing watch, which monitors the total amount of air you breathe in real time, allowing people to record and appreciate the high-quality air they breathe every day.
As long as you inhale more sweetness from the city than others every day, you can live longer than others!
Book now to enjoy a 20% discount and have a chance to win a bottle of high-quality purified water from Uptown..."
Chen Fengrui sat down, picked up the bowl and took a sip of the lukewarm synthetic porridge. The taste was as bland as ever, with a hint of chemical additives.
The sarcasm on his face grew stronger, and he interjected in a low voice, seemingly talking to himself, but clearly speaking to the parents at the table:
"Oh, it would be better to add a meter to display the real-time tax for each breath, so that everyone will always remember that the more they breathe, the faster they will die of poverty."
The middle-aged man's face darkened completely. He slammed his phone screen down on the table, his chest heaving slightly as he glared at his son opposite him.
Ever since my son "failed early" in the citizenship test, he has become a completely different person. He locks himself in his small bedroom all day long, refusing to see anyone and talking.
His mood seems to have calmed down a little recently, and he is willing to come out for dinner, but the tone of his speech has become sarcastic, it would be better if he didn't speak at all.
The middle-aged man suppressed his anger and snorted coldly:
"Alright, these are all policies issued by the Upper City Council. You think you're smart by saying irresponsible things? I can't even stop you from talking when I eat!"
Chen Fengrui didn't talk back, but just let out another "huh" from his nose. The sound was light, but it made people more angry than any fierce rebuttal.
He glared at his son fiercely and warned him in a low voice:
"Once you leave this door, watch your mouth. Your mouth is for eating and breathing, not for talking nonsense. If you get into trouble, no one will clean it up for you!"
Chen Fengrui sneered fearlessly:
“It’s because the people in the lower city are used to keeping their mouths shut that things have turned out like this, and no one can make a sound anymore.
The reason we live such a miserable life is not because we are stupid, but on the contrary, it is because most people are too smart, which makes everyone's life look like a ghost."
The middle-aged man seemed to be stabbed by these words. His face turned from black to blue in an instant, his lips trembled, and his teeth chattered.
He suddenly raised his hand, wanting to slap his disobedient son, but his arm froze in mid-air halfway, and finally slammed heavily on the table, shaking the dishes and chopsticks.
"Who taught you these heretical theories?"
Every word the middle-aged man said was filled with uncontrollable anger and fear.
"Is that the liberal media guy [Grave Tree]? How many times have I told you to stop reading this crap online?
These dangerous thoughts are terrible poisons that will eventually kill you! ”
Chen Fengrui is at an age where he is not afraid of death, and especially after obtaining free power, he feels even more fearless.
At least, he thought he was not afraid of death, and he sneered again when he heard that.
The middle-aged man looked at his son's rebellious appearance, and his intracranial blood pressure soared. He took a few deep breaths, barely suppressing his anger, and still had to teach his son a lesson:
"I've also read [Grave Tree's] articles. He was the first to bring up the air tax issue. I admit that some of what he said makes sense.
But then what? Even if he spoke out, even if everything he said was true, what would it matter? Would it change anything?
"Downtown has been like this for 300 years. What can a few more people saying something online really change?"
The middle-aged man paused, and said with a sneer on his face:
"It's nothing more than inciting a few brainless people to die. The lights in the upper city will illuminate the lower city as usual tomorrow morning, and at most they'll reveal a few freshly rotting corpses in some corner."
And I can also guess that one of these corpses must belong to the [Old Tree on the Grave].
The middle-aged man paused and continued:
"Well, maybe he's already dead, rotten, smelly, and has become a nest for rats and cockroaches..."
The sarcasm and sneer on Chen Fengrui's face froze instantly.
He no longer said "huh" or tried to refute.
Because he had to admit that his father's words hit the most bloody fact, that is, [the old tree on the grave] might really be dead, and his media account had not been updated for a long time.
This silent interruption of updates only means one thing in the lower city!
Seeing his son fall silent, the middle-aged man's expression eased slightly, and he tried earnestly to bring his son back on track:
"For 300 years, the people down there have all been going through this. Those who shout the loudest, who want to change everything, will eventually disappear, silently.
Only those who know how to keep their mouths shut and endure can live quietly in the land of the lower city."
He stretched out his finger, pointed at himself and said:
"I, your father, survived in this way. Your grandfather also survived in this way. Your grandfather's father, your grandfather's grandfather...
Counting back three hundred years, or even longer, we have always lived like this!"
As he spoke, he pointed at his son and said quietly:
“So, now I have you.
And you, my son, you should also live honestly and quietly like us.
Live to get married and have children, live to be old like me, and then teach this truth to your son honestly... This is our destiny!"
Chen Fengrui was speechless. He opened his mouth several times, wanting to refute word by word, but he couldn't open his mouth.
If the articles of [The Old Tree on the Grave] were like a lump of firewood, making him angry and irritable, then his father's words were like cold mud, wrapping around him layer by layer and suffocating him.
He felt that what [the old tree on the grave] said was right, but what his father said also seemed to be correct.
His mother had been listening quietly beside him, and finally interrupted to comfort him:
"Son...listen to your father. He's eaten more neutralizers in his life than you've eaten synthetic rice.
What others teach you are all dead principles, only what your father teaches you are living principles!"
Chen Fengrui bit his back teeth so hard that his gums almost bled.
Intense resentment and anger surged in his chest, but he couldn't find an outlet. In the end, he could only say indignantly:
"For three hundred years... it's always been this way. Does that mean it's right?!"
The middle-aged man sighed, and looking at his son seemed to see himself who was once young and passionate, but at this moment the blood in his heart had already run cold.
He drank the porridge in his bowl, smacked his lips and continued:
"Otherwise, what do you think is right? Right and wrong don't grow in your mouth, but in your fist. People who live in silence have never gained power."
Chen Fengrui seemed to have found some loophole, and raised his eyebrows fiercely, saying unconvincedly:
"Impossible! There are obviously the most people like us in the lower city. The poor people have the most fists combined. How could they not have power?!"
A rare hint of sarcasm appeared on the middle-aged man's face, and he snorted:
"Of course there have been, of course there have been. Over time, there will always be some poor people who get lucky, or have genetic mutations, and gain considerable power.
But then, without exception, these people all became the ones who told us to shut up.”
Chen Fengrui's face gradually froze and he fell into a daze.
He didn't want to believe his father's words, but his reason told him coldly that this answer was very likely true, truer than real gold.
Although Chen Fengrui has obtained the power bestowed by the "Lord", his mind is far from mature and he is still wandering in confusion.
He then lowered his head and prayed silently in his heart:
"Lord, you have given me strength, but I still don't know where the road ahead lies. I, your humble believer, pray that you will grant me wisdom and guide my destiny..."
The nothingness in the darkness seemed to be moved by some strange thing, and his inner voice was silently transmitted to the ears of the "Master".
And in the Master's ears, a vague and unfamiliar auditory hallucination came...
(End of this chapter)
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