067 Spatial Remote Sensor

"Spatial sensor—you made one before," Zero said.

"Spatial sensor? I made one before?" Zhong Yun's eyes widened in confusion.

"Here it is." Zero pointed, and a strangely shaped small machine appeared. As soon as Zhong Yun saw the two bowls on top (see Chapter 11 for details), he remembered.

"So it’s this thing. It cost me several million." Spending so much money for the first time, Zhong Yun felt as if he’d lost his innocence—an impression not easily forgotten.

"By the way, this gadget, the spatial sensor, what’s it for?" Zhong Yun asked. He’d wanted to ask that when making it, but he was so busy back then, and every time he saw Little Zero, training began immediately under his whip. There had simply been no chance to ask, and over time, he’d forgotten.

"The spatial sensor is used for long-distance communication. Its principle is: when a wave’s frequency reaches a certain level, it enables spatial jumping."

"This spatial sensor can turn information into high-frequency waves, transmit them through space to a predetermined location, and also receive such waves."

"But this model is a temporary design, simple in function, and can only transmit to a fixed place."

"You used this to contact the Free Star, didn’t you?" Zhong Yun suddenly understood, recalling the question he’d previously overlooked.

Though he didn’t know exactly where Free Star was, even if it was just a light-year away, one message should take two years. Yet Little Zero had managed to contact Free Star in a short time, buying and selling all sorts of things.

Immediately afterward, another question came to him. "How did you use Davos credit to buy things from Free Star? Aren’t they completely separate?"

He was still resentful over Little Zero spending his five hundred million.

"Free Star has bank branches in every intermediate civilization. As long as the money is converted to Omi and deposited there, it can be used," Zero explained.

"Forget it, I won’t concern myself with your mess. I need some rest. These past days have been exhausting." With those words, Zhong Yun headed for his room.

Vol Star, in the western region of the continent, at the edge of a desert, stood the town where Fenghua City was located.

It was a quiet little town, with just over a hundred households. The town’s only bar welcomed two strangers today.

"Bad luck, being sent to this godforsaken place to carry out a mission," complained a man wearing sunglasses that covered half his face.

His hair was tied into dozens of tiny braids, a golden ring hung from his left ear, and he wore only a short leather jacket, showing off a scrawny frame.

Beside him was a Caucasian woman, half a head taller, with a mane of fiery red waves that matched her bold, voluptuous figure, drawing hungry looks from nearby men.

As soon as she walked in, the men in the bar whistled loudly.

"Whistle at your damn mother," the man barked, his voice so loud it drowned out everyone else.

The rowdy bar fell silent for a moment. Just as the man was basking in his dominance, a voice rang out, "I’ll whistle at your damn mother if I want."

The bar erupted in laughter.

The man shot a furious glare at the heckler, a flush of unnatural color rising to his face.

The woman beside him gently tugged his arm and shook her head. The man snorted and sat at the bar. "Two bottles—the most expensive you have," he said.

These two were not ordinary people—they were members of the Vol Special Ops team. The man was Jiang You, the woman Ina. They were here on an important mission.

Halfway through their drinks, the bar’s door opened again.

A teenage boy entered, carrying a backpack nearly half his own height. Judging by how tightly the straps bit into his shoulders, it must have weighed over a hundred pounds. Yet he bore it with ease.

He looked as though he’d crawled out from the sand itself—covered in yellow dust, his hair a tangled mess seemingly glued together in sandy clumps.

Everyone in the bar stared at him in surprise.

People like this weren’t uncommon in the town—only those who had come out of the desert looked like that.

"Where’ve you come from, kid?" asked a middle-aged man sitting near the door.

The boy was sitting on the floor, taking off his shoes. He jerked his thumb behind him—the direction of the desert.

"Alone?" the man asked again.

"Alone." The boy turned his shoe over, pouring out a small pile of yellow sand.

"Boss, give the lad a glass of Xilo," the man said to the middle-aged woman polishing glasses behind the counter.

Then he turned to the boy. "A lot of people pass through this town each year, mostly heading into the desert. But I’ve never seen someone as young as you go in alone. That’s impressive."

He took a swig of his drink. "Kid, what’s your name?"

The boy emptied the sand from his other shoe, put them back on, and walked to the bar, replying, "Zhong Yun."

The boy was none other than Zhong Yun, recently returned to Vol Star. To conceal his whereabouts, he’d deliberately come here, pretending to have just emerged from the desert.

Standing at the bar, Zhong Yun picked up the drink set down by the proprietress and took a sip.

Hearing his name, Jiang You and Ina exchanged glances. Jiang You, who was closer, lowered his sunglasses to study him.

Suddenly, Jiang You reached for Zhong Yun’s hand. "You’re Zhong Yun?"

Just as Jiang You was about to grab him, Zhong Yun’s hand vanished, leaving Jiang You grasping at empty air.

Jiang You froze in surprise, unable to believe he’d missed.

Ina, however, saw clearly—at the very instant Jiang You tried to grab him, Zhong Yun’s hand withdrew, evading the grasp with ghostly, silent speed.

Throughout, Zhong Yun kept calmly sipping his drink, never even glancing at Jiang You.

Ina was shocked—she hadn’t expected him to be such a skilled fighter; the files hadn’t mentioned it.

"Thanks for the drink," Zhong Yun said as if nothing had happened, nodding to the middle-aged man.

He set the mug down and turned to the two Special Ops members, his gaze lingering on them. "Do you know me?"

"You’re strong. Fight me," Jiang You said seriously, eyes burning with fighting spirit.

They stared at each other for two seconds. "Alright, but wait until I get into high school," Zhong Yun replied. This stylish guy was clearly obsessive—Zhong Yun had no desire to get entangled with him and decided to put him off for now.

"It’s a promise. I’ll find you then," Jiang You replied, utterly serious.

"You know me?" Seeing the man wouldn’t let go, Zhong Yun turned to the more composed woman.

"Someone once asked us to find you," she replied.

"To find me?"