My setting is above yours!

Chapter 46 The Secret to Constructing Formulas (4k5)

"Then I definitely can't run away. We're meant to share both good times and bad..."

Wearing a loose-fitting patrol bureau uniform, his name tag clearly covered in mud, the fat man grinned as if he had just finished some dirty or tiring work.

But a gust of cold wind blew by, and he couldn't help but shiver, looking around suspiciously:
"Hiss... It's a bit cold, boss. Why is this underground morgue so chilly?"

From the moment he sneaked into the patrol bureau and stepped into the elevator, he felt something was off.

Even though we were only going to the basement level, the elevator inexplicably took a long time to descend, dropping at least three floors.

The advertisements that were originally flashing in the elevator car became blurry and indistinct, the passionate advertising slogans became distorted, and there were inexplicable stutters.

When the elevator doors popped open, a distinct chill mixed with the smell of disinfectant hit you.

The pristine white corridor, though spotless, had a sticky, dirty feel to it. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed and flickered, creating a sense of disorientation.

Not far away stood a cold, metallic iron gate. The guardhouse next to it was empty, but looking into the shadows behind the gate, the fat man felt a strange sense of danger emanating from it…

It was as if someone was watching you from the shadows, like looking at the flesh and blood on your plate, wanting to tear you apart and devour you.

No, no.

How could there be ghosts in Ideal City?

As he reassured himself, the fat man gradually relaxed. He even steeled himself and glared back fiercely, baring his teeth and claws as if trying to scare the ghost in the shadows behind the door...

But this time he didn't see nothing.

He did indeed see a pair of eyes flash by in the darkness.

Those were a pair of cold eyes, sparkling with the brilliant colors of stars, like a flowing galaxy...

Those eyes vanished in an instant. The fat man rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but could only see darkness.

But now he dares not glare back into the shadows.

"Yes, yes, yes, is there really a ghost, boss?!"

He shuddered, instinctively hiding behind the skinny man beside him, clinging to his arms, his voice trembling as he said:

"Should we run away first...?"

"Why are you making such a fuss? Don't you act like a superpowered person at all?!"

With a scar on his face, the skinny thug, dressed in a loose-fitting patrol bureau uniform and not even wearing a name tag, snorted and slapped the fat man on the head.

"What nonsense! You just awakened your abilities and don't understand what being a superpowered person really means..."

As he spoke, he took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and casually snapped his fingers—

A cold, deep green flame appeared at his fingertips with that sound.

He casually flicked the green flame across the end of the cigarette, the grayish-green bits of "dry grass" mixed with the tobacco leaves curling up in the cold, then turning white and crumbling into powder from the icy flame...

But because he quickly moved the green flame away, the cold flame that had been burning on the cigarette became rootless, gradually losing its special nature and returning to normal, turning into a normal, bright orange-red spark.

He took a deep drag, the smell of burnt tobacco mixed with the greasy smell of pork lard spreading out, and exhaled with the yellowish-white smoke, gathering into a dirty cloud of smoke.

The skinny thug savored the pungent smoke, then laughed heartily and declared with boundless pride:
"With superpowers, even if there are real ghosts and monsters, wouldn't they be crushed in our personal reality?"

"Once we move those corpses away, we'll trade them with the boss for another ability advancement experiment, from Lv.1 to Lv.2, and then from Lv.2 to Lv.3..."

"At that time, we will be no different from those college students who have studied for so many years and graduated from the three major universities."

"Do you think... those college students would be afraid of ghosts or anything like that every day?"

Hearing this, the fat man calmed down and suppressed the fear in his heart.

That's right, you can't keep doing that, Fatty!

You're no longer the useless person you used to be who couldn't even collect protection money or overturn an old man's or woman's vegetable stall!

Now, you are a superpowered being, a noble figure just like those college students!
Even if there really are ghosts, so what?

Even if they were ghosts, when faced with your and the boss's abilities, they would be no different from those useless people living in shacks who haven't even awakened to their own reality.

They will kneel before you and obediently hand over their credits; the ghost will do the same, kneeling before you and its soul will be scattered...

Once we move the body away today, and after a few more ability advancement experiments with the boss, I can slowly advance to Lv.3, and then I'll really be almost the same as the graduates of the three major universities...

The thought of gradually improving his abilities and stepping into the upper echelons of the ideal city made the fat man hum softly.

"You're right, boss... even if there really are ghosts, there's nothing to be afraid of, after all, we still have the secret technique the boss gave us!"

"With that secret technique, even if there really is some kind of ghost, you should be able to burn it to ashes, boss."

He mustered his courage, strode forward, and walked without hesitation toward the frost-covered, cold-air-emitting alloy door.

"I'll pry this door open right now..."

As he spoke, the muscles in his arms suddenly bulged, and grotesque lines appeared on them, with foreign objects resembling bone spurs protruding from his arms—

The next moment, his arms became covered in scales, his muscles bulged, and his blood roared in his veins, like the arms of some giant beast.

He strode over, seemingly intending to use brute force to remove the iron gate...

But just as he passed the guardhouse, a dark figure slowly walked out and kicked him, sending him flying!

"After all that babbling, why don't you introduce yourselves, tell us your motives and identities? You've just left me listening to a bunch of useless daydreams..."

Ron lightly dusted off the corner of his clothes and looked helplessly at the skinny thug who was standing there, the cigarette in his hand burning his fingers.

The reason he didn't arrest the two men immediately was to see if they would reveal their identities or leak any useful information.

Unexpectedly, these two seemed to have drunk too much and were still half asleep; they started dreaming of becoming Level 3 before even lying in bed...

You're only at Lv.1... Do you know how hard it is to become Lv.3?
Ron shook his head, glanced sideways at the Dimensional Update Manual, and couldn't help but feel a little depressed.

Although he had stopped the "tomb raider," there was no indication that the "out-of-control" level had decreased, clearly indicating that this incident did not trigger the [Playing Law]...

What's wrong with this kind of acting? Is there some deeper reason behind it?

Forget it... no matter what, let's arrest these two petty thieves first.

From just those few words, Ron could tell that these two probably had a sizable organization providing them with support...

They actually managed to distract the patrol officers from the D District General Patrol Bureau, temporarily leaving the underground morgue unattended.

Considering that both Squad C-112 and Dr. Lin were given a day off today, it seems that this is a tactic used by the organization behind these two to send away patrolling agents.

A force with such methods, and two "tomb raiders" who are Level 1 superpowered individuals...

Although they failed to achieve Ron's ultimate goal of helping him digest the [Gravekeeper] potion, they could still earn a considerable number of credits from the Patrol Bureau. Ron wasn't about to let this easy target slip away.

He picked up his name tag, recalling what Xia Zhi had taught him that morning, and mimicked it, saying:

"This is Squad C-112, Disciplinary Patrol C08..."

"Cough, cough... What C08C88? You're just one person, and you think you can catch us?"

A dry cough came from not far away. The fat man who had been kicked away by Ron coughed and pushed himself up from the ground, struggling against the broken floor tiles and cracked cement walls, and slowly stood up.

Perhaps it was his physical enhancement that made him so tough and resilient, because Ron's kick didn't hurt him much.

"He's just an inspector who happened to run into us... Keep chattering and I'll kill you!"

Ron ignored his threat, scratched his head, and said:
"You have violated the Ideal City Public Security Administration Punishment Law... wait, is that the right law again?"

The skinny thug threw down his cigarette, not wanting to hear Ron continue, and roared:
"Fatty, go! This is no laughing matter, kill him!"

The fat man immediately obeyed and pounced on him, his two ferocious giant fists swinging up like a pestle in a mortar, as if he wanted to smash Ron into a pulp!
But Ron seemed not to see anything, still wondering if he had said his warning correctly.

But soon, he sighed with relief and said:
"Forget it, whatever law it is... You can probably tell I didn't go through proper onboarding training, so I don't really understand what law they're using to arrest you..."

Before he could finish speaking, the fat man had already rushed in front of him, delivering two powerful punches, one in front and one behind.

But Ron simply reached out and tapped his fist.

It was as if time had stood still; the fat man froze in place...

But the next moment, his arms suddenly swelled up and split open, with blood mixed with broken scales gushing out.

He tried to move again, but his legs, which were stationary, suddenly reversed the direction of force, bending backward like a broken chopstick...

Ron waved his hand, casually tossing aside the fat man who had already fainted from the pain and was as heavy as a rag doll, and continued speaking after being interrupted:

"Therefore, I have no choice but to respond to you with the same level of violence as you have used, based on the principle of escalation of force, so that you can experience the true law enforcement power of the patrol bureau..."

Only then did he turn on the body camera hanging around his neck and calmly look at the skinny thug who had just ignited a dark green flame at his fingertips and was stunned in place when he saw the fat man's miserable state before he could even make a move.

"Please immediately cease your illegal activities and cease all resistance—I think you know what to do now, right?"

As he spoke, watching the skinny thug in front of him gradually lose his temper and stop using his abilities, he gave the following command:
"Stand up straight, hands behind your back, squat down first, and tell me what's going on with the green flame in your hand..."

Ron had always been curious about what that green flame in the guy's hand was.

You see, when Ron was secretly observing them from the guardhouse, he wasn't just watching with his eyes...

The moment this person unleashed that icy green flame, Ron immediately switched to [Embers of the Age of Gods] and activated his Magic Vision—

Because this green flame is so visually striking, it looks exactly like "necromantic fire"...

Unfortunately, neither of them possessed any magical radiance within the "Magic Vision."

The green flame lit by the skinny thug was the same; although it had almost identical properties to "necromantic fire," it had absolutely no connection to magic...

Ron also failed to find any magician's "power amplifier" like the Emerald Ring on them.

In other words... the "necromantic fire" he ignited had absolutely nothing to do with magic or spells.

It truly is a superpower unique to him, released from the power model he awakened!

That really piqued Ron's interest.

Considering that, according to them, their abilities had only just awakened, and they had undergone some kind of ability-activation experiment...

No matter how he thought about it, Ron felt there was some secret behind this.

Coincidentally, he was someone who was curious about all kinds of secrets.

But the skinny thug didn't say anything.

He didn't squat down, nor did he speak; he simply stared at Ron with cold eyes, his gaze filled with obvious hostility.

Haven't you figured out the difference in strength yet?
Ron frowned and immediately activated [Vector Manipulation].

A Level 1 superpowered individual would have absolutely no chance of resisting him. What gives this person the confidence to maintain such hostility after witnessing his abilities just now?
Could it be that... he has some special trump card that I don't know about right now?

Although a Lv.1 player, no matter what trump card they have, could never beat Ron, Ron knew that these guys who had been struggling at the bottom of Ideal City always had some strange methods.

Being cautious is never a bad thing.

With that thought in mind, he activated [Vector Manipulation] with all his might, initiating a reflex, and slowly stepped forward, preparing to capture this guy himself...

But to everyone's surprise, the man started muttering inexplicably, repeating phrases that Ron couldn't understand at all.

As if suddenly going mad, this person began to wildly wave his hands in front of him, oblivious to everyone around him...

What is this guy doing? Is he performing a shamanistic ritual?

Why did he suddenly start behaving incomprehensibly out of nowhere... What does he take me for, a ghost or a fairy?
Did they really think they could get rid of me with this crazy behavior?
Ron was puzzled, but suddenly, the skinny thug in front of him stopped.

A cold flame suddenly ignited behind Ron. Ron instinctively turned his head to look, only to see the fat man engulfed in deep green flames, instantly dying without a trace of life...

The next moment, a subtle, eerie green flame ignited in the fat man's eyes, and he suddenly stood up as if he were still alive—

Then, at an even faster speed than before, it pounced straight at Ron!

Meanwhile, seeing that Ron's attention was diverted by the fat man's corpse, the skinny thug didn't hesitate to slip away...

At this point, how could Ron not see what this guy had just been doing?
Unexplained murmurs, incomprehensible ritualistic movements...

After the ritual was completed, a sudden, enhanced superpower erupted—

This is clearly an "ability formula"—a special interpretation of the ability model—that only a Level 3 esper could construct!
This guy, despite being only a Level 1 esper, inexplicably used a "formula"...

Could this be the secret method that the fat man was talking about, the one that their "boss" arranged for them?
Who is their leader? Is it the Ideal City [Central Intelligence]?

Ron was momentarily confused, completely unable to understand how this was done.

However, although he had never considered that Lv.1 could also construct formulas, he was clear about one thing—

Since this person used the formula in front of him, this guy must be hiding a secret related to the construction of the "formula"!

Perhaps this is a completely new possibility that allows Ron to bypass Prometheus's computational privileges and construct formulas in another way...

Thinking of this, Ron couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth into a smile.

I never expected that catching a petty thief would lead to such an unexpected reward...

His formula has been found!

(End of this chapter)