Each of the girls had transford in distinct ways, yet there were striking similarities as well. All of their hair had shifted to the sa dull black shade, completely erasing any trace of their original colors. For Kiara and Lyra, the vibrant hues they once bore were simply gone, while even Alia—who had naturally black hair—now wore a far less lustrous version of it. Their once-soft, silky strands had beco noticeably drier and more brittle.
Their eyes had undergone the sa treatnt. Once colorful and expressive, they were now flat, brown, and utterly ordinary.
Their faces, once breathtakingly beautiful and uniquely captivating, had been restructured to appear plain and forgettable. But the transformation hadn’t stopped at their features—their bodies had changed as well. The graceful curves and harmonious proportions that had once defined them were now replaced by average fras, lacking the alluring elegance they previously carried. Even Lyra, the least voluptuous among them, had possessed a naturally graceful figure before—but now, that charm was gone. What remained were three won who, at a glance, blended seamlessly into the crowd.
For a brief instant, Mikael didn’t recognize them—that alone was a testant to how complete the transformation had been. But it lasted only a mont. He quickly refocused, instinctively picking up on the subtle cues that no amount of disguise could erase. In re seconds, he had identified each of them with certainty.
Still, while it was easy for him—soone who knew them intimately—to tell who was who, it would have been nearly impossible for anyone else to do the sa. To an outsider’s eye, they would now be completely unrecognizable.
“Wow, the pill’s effects really are so–” he stopped mid-sentence, blinking in mild surprise. “My voice??” His brows furrowed slightly before his gaze flicked to Lyra. “The pills even affect voice tone? That’s… really impressive.”
Lyra, with a hint of pride despite her now-flat chest, puffed herself up slightly. “Thank you. I put a lot of effort into it, knowing just how important it would be.”
“It shows! Look at you!” Kiara exclaid, still visibly stunned as she caught sight of Lyra’s altered form. Her own shoulder-length hair swayed as she spoke, now dull and lifeless.
“No, look at you!” Lyra shot back, just as shocked by Kiara’s drastic new appearance.
A brief silence followed as the two ‘sisters’ stood frozen, eyeing each other with wide-eyed disbelief. The mont was broken by Alia’s usual composed and steady voice.
“I think it’s clear that the pills worked. Now, we just need to put on the translator ring and we can enter the Akashic Records Universe.”
Her tone, calm and focused, snapped the others out of their stunned reverie. They nodded in agreent, accepting her words without further comnt. Without wasting another second, they each put on the translator ring beside their storage ring before the four of them exited the apartnt and appeared in the Hub.
Once there, they swiftly confird that they were all in the sa party. Each of them verified the contents of their respective storage rings, ensuring they were stocked with everything necessary for the journey ahead. They were well aware that their usual inventory would beco completely unusable once inside the Akashic Records Universe.
With all final preparations completed, the four of them simultaneously accepted the prompt to enter. In the blink of an eye, their bodies vanished in a burst of radiant light.
***
Imdiately, a barrage of notifications bombarded them.
[You are in a world with a power level too high for System Upgrades to function. The Money System is temporarily deactivated.]
[You are in a world with a power level too high for System Upgrades to function. The Universal Language System is temporarily deactivated.]
…
And the list continued, repeating the sa ssage for nearly every auxiliary System Upgrade. Yet none among the group of four showed any reaction—they had anticipated this outco in advance.
Still, as the girls slowly took in their new surroundings, their eyes widened with awe despite themselves.
Mikael had described this place before—the vast marble hall, the ethereal lanterns floating gently in the air, the wooden walls crafted in a style that was unmistakably Chinese, and of course, the monolith at the center—but even his careful depiction hadn’t prepared them for what stood before them now. The sheer scale, the ambiance, the weight of the place—it surpassed anything they had imagined.
The hall extended in every direction, imnse and immaculate, its pristine white floor laced with gold and silver veins that shimred under the soft light of the drifting lanterns above. The ceiling stretched so high it seed to vanish into mist, while the distant, stylized wooden walls radiated a subtle yet unmistakable aura—an elegance and authority born of ancient power and enduring tradition.
And then, there was the monolith.
A colossal obsidian structure stood nearby, tall and unyielding, its smooth surface etched with glowing cerulean runes that pulsed with a quiet, rhythmic energy. The aura it gave off was overwhelming, pressing down on the surroundings like the silent gaze of sothing eternal—sothing absolute and beyond comprehension.
None of the girls spoke. They didn’t need to. Their wide eyes said it all. Even Alia, who often kept a calm composure, found herself breathless, her usual composure montarily cracked.
Mikael, having already visited this place, cast only a passing glance at the monolith before turning his gaze elsewhere. The impact of its presence had dulled slightly for him—but it was far from gone.
All around them, figures moved with quiet purpose. So engaged in low conversation, others simply observed their surroundings. Their clothing varied wildly—so wore flowing Daoist robes, others bore attire that suggested origins from Earth, or perhaps even stranger worlds. The sheer diversity of styles made one thing clear: this was a crossroads where countless paths t.
And now, theirs had joined that convergence.
Still, they didn’t linger like awestruck tourists. No—after a final sweeping glance, they began to move with clear intent. After all, they were supposed to be natives, weren’t they?
At least, that was the role they were playing. So they acted the part. Without hesitation, they followed Mikael, who, thanks to his earlier scouting, already knew where the nearest Evolution Center was located.
As they passed others in the hall, no heads turned. They drew no attention whatsoever. A group of four—one average-looking man and three equally unremarkable won, all dressed in dark grey Daoist robes typical of loose cultivators—was hardly worth noticing.
In a place like this, loose cultivators were everywhere. No one spared them a second glance, and so their passage went undisturbed as they advanced steadily through the long corridors of the interconnected pagoda.
The group of four eventually exited the vast structure and erged into a sprawling city teeming with life. The layout, architecture, and atmosphere were unmistakably Chinese in design, radiating a distinct cultural identity at every turn. Yet, aside from a fleeting glance from the girls, who briefly took in the aesthetic of the city, none of them lingered on its beauty. Without wasting a mont, they resud their pace, falling in step behind Mikael without question.
As they advanced, they passed by countless cultivators going about their daily business—n and won busy with their own concerns, their own paths. But neither Mikael's group nor those they passed showed the slightest interest in each other. They were simply part of the scenery to one another, nothing more than strangers sharing a road.
And so, little by little, they covered a portion of the imnse city. But due to its colossal size and the fact that running through the streets was frowned upon and poorly regarded in such a place, their pace remained asured and deliberate. Speed was not an option—they had no choice but to slowly traverse the city's vast sprawl on foot at a snail pace.
After a full hour of steady walking, they finally entered a different district—a part of the city that stood in stark contrast to the orderly elegance they had seen so far. It was more chaotic, more alive in a visceral way.
Their steps brought them into a chaotic and bustling marketplace.
The air buzzed with an overlapping chorus of voices, clashing in a constant storm of persuasion, haggling, and theatrical promises. Echoes of sales pitches rang out across rows of stalls that, though neatly arranged, seed to exist in a kind of organized disorder. There were no formal shops, no permanent storefronts—only elegant, mobile displays maintained by rchants who sold everything from rare cultivation manuals to finely crafted spirit tools, each one offered with tireless enthusiasm.
“Low-rank artifact flying swords! Only 500 low-grade spirit stones! You won’t find better at this price!”
“Divine movent technique—only one copy left! Straight from a collapsed sect!”
Vendors called out with practiced charisma, their refined robes and ticulously arranged setups contrasting with the dubious credibility of their claims. Standing behind polished wooden counters or embroidered mats spread on the ground, they gestured dramatically toward shimring goods, each object paired with a tale just believable enough to spark interest—and just suspicious enough to invite doubt.
The rchandise was as diverse as the sellers themselves. So items were real, so were heavily exaggerated, and others were almost certainly fakes. But in this kind of place, where competition was relentless and oversight nonexistent, certainty was a rare and precious commodity.
There was no sense of order to be found here—no clean separation of products by category. A talisman peddler might stand shoulder to shoulder with a pill rchant, while a swordsmith loudly promoted his blades beside soone hawking exotic beast eggs. Despite the chaos—or perhaps because of it—the marketplace pulsed with life. Its vitality was unmistakable, and its chaotic energy almost contagious.
It was the kind of place where a single misstep could lead to boundless fortune… or utter ruin.
Yet, as fascinating and animated as the marketplace was, the group of four paid it no real attention. Their eyes didn’t linger, their pace didn’t falter. They kept walking forward with unshakable focus, the goal in their minds as firm as ever.
Even as rchants behind their stalls called out to them—shouting offers, waving arms, and making bold declarations—they ignored every word, walking forward as if they hadn’t heard a single sound. Unmoved by the noise and chaos around them, they pressed on, unbothered and focused. In this way, ti passed quietly, without incident, as they continued their trek toward the nearest Evolution Center.
A few tis along the way, they were forced to step aside to clear the road for the passage of so pompous young master, haughty young mistress, or important figure traveling in luxurious carriages drawn by majestic spirit beasts. These occasional interruptions were brief and uneventful, re ripples in an otherwise calm journey. Gradually, and without fanfare, the chaotic atmosphere of the market began to fade behind them.
The roadside stalls began to thin out, the constant barrage of loud voices softened into a dull background hum, and even the dense crowd began to disperse. At the sa ti, the architecture around them began to change—the buildings grew larger, more refined, constructed with superior materials and designed with elegance and grandeur in mind. Everything about this district was more polished, more expensive, more prestigious.
They were clearly stepping into a higher-class area of the city. And they all knew why. This was where the Evolution Center was located—an extrely important facility like that could never be placed in so forgotten alley or remote slum. Its placent in such an upscale district was not just logical—it was necessary.
After what could generously be called a ‘short’ walk, they finally saw it.
An imnse and breathtakingly luxurious building ca into view. Crowds of people flowed in and out of its grand entrance, and above the wide double doors hung an enormous sign bearing a single title in bold, unmistakable lettering: ‘Evolution Center’. There was no mistaking it—they had reached their destination.
At that mont, the group paused. Just for an instant, they allowed themselves to exhale and reclaim their breath. Tension lted from their shoulders as they exchanged brief but relieved glances. The hours of walking, combined with the constant alertness, had taken a toll on their nerves, but thankfully, they had arrived without issue. And now that they stood at the doorstep of the Evolution Center, they could breathe a little easier. Even the most arrogant young master wouldn’t dare stir up trouble here.
After all, while the Evolution Center didn’t possess any military might of its own or house any powerful cultivators, it operated directly under the authority of the Akashic Order—the single most powerful organization in the entire universe. It was precisely because of that affiliation that no one dared to act out here. At most, the Three Overlords themselves might attempt to bribe a few employees in order to know the test results—nothing more.
But if anyone went so far as to threaten, harm, or even kill an Evolution Center staff mber, the Akashic Order would find out. And when they did, the individual, sect, or organization responsible would face imdiate, brutal, and rciless retaliation.
Of course, this didn’t an the employees working within the Evolution Center were untouchable. If any among them were foolish enough to abuse their status, the consequences would be swift. They would be fired on the spot, stripped of their position, and left without protection. And once their status was gone, all those they had once offended would rember. With no shield to hide behind, their fate would be grim.
This was entirely in line with the Akashic Order’s approach to governance—cold, efficient, and practical. But even within its ruthlessness, there was a kind of order, a brutal fairness that defined its reputation.
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— End of Chapter —
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