Chapter 15: Intermediate Electric Energy Control
Entering the basement, Yang Bo frowned slightly. The space resembled a training hall—with sandbags, wooden training poles reminiscent of Earth's martial arts dummies, various exercise equipment, and an array of cold weapons.
"Shh!" Yang Bo whistled softly. The incident last time still haunted him; had he failed to notice that strange fish, it might have cost him his life. After his whistle showed no abnormal echoes in his sound wave readings, he pulled out a garbage bag and began dismantling everything—stripping the items down and tossing them into the bag.
The most eye-catching items were several meditation cushions made of some kind of exquisite hide—judging by the beauty of the fur, they weren't from ordinary animals. In addition, the wooden training dummies were unusually heavy and solid, not the kind made from ordinary timber.
How this trash would eventually be disposed of, Yang Bo wasn't sure—but since the company confidently accepted such orders, they surely had their own methods. One reason for assigning residents these tasks was that most couldn't identify all the protected animal furs or endangered plants. And even if a resident spoke up about it, there wouldn't be any evidence. Meanwhile, evolution-monitoring judges equipped with chips could use specialized instruments to check for fluctuations in the chip's signal to determine if someone was lying.
All the melee cold weapons—spears, axes, two-handed swords—were broken down to lengths that could fit inside the bag; their materials appeared rather ordinary. Then there were the carpets on the floor—clearly not of common quality—cut into pieces. The wooden training frames were smashed and bagged, and the unknown fur cushions were tossed in as well.
After he finished cleaning up, Yang Bo found nothing of apparent value. It seemed something had been taken from the wall earlier—perhaps an ancient martial arts manual or some related artifact—and even the display items were gone. With all the garbage packed for transport to the designated area, Yang Bo considered his task complete as he surveyed the now-empty basement. He wasn't sure exactly which basement this was; when he arrived he had already gotten off in the underground parking garage, and he had left the same way.
Back at the company, Liu Zhijie rubbed his head and asked, "How was your first solo assignment?"
"Not a problem," Yang Bo replied. He couldn't help but note how strangely sparse Liu Zhijie's hair was—plus, he mused wryly about the excessive amount of genetic agent treatments. And what was with a boss named Liu Zhijie running a company called Anzhijie? The connection, if any, was unclear.
"Any issues?" Liu Zhijie pressed, seeing that Yang Bo wasn't about to leave.
"Boss, for E-level onboarding training—what are the conditions to progress to higher-level training?" Yang Bo asked, thinking that more training might be the safest route for him.
"It all comes down to points," Liu Zhijie explained. "An E-level simulation requires 3,000 points, while a D-level one needs 10,000. For even higher levels, it scales accordingly. Based on your current level, you can even skip ahead to D-level training. Of course, if your personal abilities reach the required standard, the company may provide free advanced onboarding."
Yang Bo nodded. "Thank you, Boss. I think I can start taking on higher-value tasks."
"Just keep an eye on the task platform—it updates every day at 8 a.m. High-value tasks are extremely competitive," Liu Zhijie added in a tone no different from addressing any ordinary employee.
"Understood," Yang Bo replied, though he knew that as the lowest-level employee his chances to "farm" skill points by doing tasks were slim.
After leaving the company, Yang Bo reflected that the salary was actually quite decent and the workload not too intense. In this highly technological, advanced civilization, overworking the laborers would only drive them to quit. At worst, they could always go home and live a piggish, carefree life.
Once home, Yang Bo checked the local news—and soon a headline caught his attention. A report showed that a C-level citizen had been involved in an accident at a certain location, accompanied by on-site photographs. The image of a person lying in front of a bus made Yang Bo's eyes narrow.
"Isn't this the same person I suspected was tailing me a month ago?" he thought. The man's appearance matched the individual who had followed him to the company last month—wearing sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt, though Yang Bo hadn't noticed him at the time.
"Damn it—who is that?" Yang Bo seethed internally. Someone had been watching him since last month, and now this person had reappeared. A C-level citizen was supposed to be an elite.
Yang Bo then searched for information on bio-chips. According to the chip company, bio-chips were very safe and fused seamlessly with brain tissue.
"Damn, I wonder how that person actually died. Could it really have been electrocution?" Yang Bo muttered, cursing as the events seemed shrouded in mystery.
He then took out his virtual headset. His upcoming simulation training required 3,000 points per session—but if he chose hazardous scenarios with toxic creatures, he'd earn an extra 1,000 points per run. Yang Bo checked his point balance: he had over 20,000 points. With a guaranteed base salary of 15,000 credit points from Anzhijie and daily tasks yielding three to five tens of thousands over a month, even a single-person task would net him at least 1,000 points. Work hours were six per day, with overtime billed at 150 credit points per extra hour, and a five-day workweek plus double pay on weekends.
The generous benefits made Yang Bo feel that not working would be a disservice to himself—even though compared to those who never worried about food or clothing, it wasn't an enormous gap. When he bought groceries, the prices were steep—vegetables, meat—but since he cooked his own meals, his daily expenses hovered around a hundred-plus. At least he didn't have to pay property fees or utility bills.
By his calculations, the salary was good—but owning his own home was a different matter. A one-million property would incur roughly 10% of its value in annual fees, cleaning fees, and taxes. In other words, buying a one-million home would cost about 100,000 per year in taxes and fees, on top of his other expenses. And much like in the United States, when you buy something the price is often listed without tax, then tax is added at checkout.
"Time to farm some points," Yang Bo muttered as he looked at his point balance. He could run several E-level simulation trainings—and he promptly began. He even specifically selected the electric eel scenario; a single run cost him 4,000 points, but to Yang Bo, points were meaningless compared to real ability.
After five hours of training, Yang Bo lay in his bathtub. Unlike the government-provided automatic, constant-temperature tubs, his required manual adjustments for water and temperature left him longing for more comfort.
Then, as he extended his hand, he saw streaks of blue electric energy gradually form across his palm. This energy was intangible, and its blue hue was a result of its interaction with the air.
"Is this the power of intermediate Electric Energy Control? At this level, I can even project it outside my body," Yang Bo marveled as he felt the intense heat of the bathwater.
After two simulation runs, his Electric Energy Control had reached the intermediate level (11/100). In just half an hour, Yang Bo had begun to master the release of electric energy.
"I wonder how powerful this electricity really is. Anzhijie Services seems formidable—they actually use real electric eels for training. But that's not all bad; having a big tree to lean on is a comfort," Yang Bo mused as he felt the electricity in his palms slowly flow back into his body.
"Could the electricity inside me be the same as the one I'm using externally? If so, can I essentially 'charge' myself?" Yang Bo suddenly sat up, his mind racing with possibilities.
(End of Chapter)