Chapter 239: Chapter 237: The Fishman’s Limitation
"Humans are a race that listens to advice, and the Alchemists weren’t fools, either. Before long, no one was asking about immortality anymore."
"The words of that Chali Race member were crystal clear. Immortality came at a price humans couldn’t possibly bear, much like how humans can’t change the outcome of a divination."
"Humans may be stubborn, but they don’t fight against the rules."
"Surviving and thriving in the perilous Abyss—that’s what’s most important," Bai Zhou said slowly.
"However, the secret to immortality has always remained with the Chali Race, and that has never changed. Can your Fishman Race bear such a price?"
Bai Zhou’s words sent Jeff into a long silence.
His face remained placid and unconcerned, without a trace of inner conflict, as if these matters couldn’t stir the slightest ripple within him.
He simply stared ahead in silence, his profound gaze looking past Bai Zhou and into the endless abyss.
"Come with me."
Jeff didn’t answer Bai Zhou’s question. Instead, after saying this, he turned and walked away.
"The one from the Square Race, you come too."
Mo Ling didn’t know why Jeff had called him over as well, but since it was a chance to gather more information, he certainly wasn’t going to refuse.
After exchanging a look with Bai Zhou, the two followed Jeff out of the prison.
"You all can get back to your duties. I have a use for these two prisoners."
Jeff offered no explanation to the other Fishmen. At his simple command, they dutifully departed.
As soon as they left the prison, the two prisoners drew the eyes of many Fishmen. But upon seeing that Jeff was the one escorting them, those gazes quickly retreated, as if in fear of attracting his notice.
Jeff led them unabashedly to a flight of stairs and began to slowly walk up.
A blinding light flashed. When it faded, the three of them had ascended the stairs and were now on a wide, open platform.
On the platform, clouds of mist drifted by, and the wind howled.
Jeff raised a hand. The runes across the entire platform began to vibrate and glow. An invisible protective shield materialized, instantly blasting away the surrounding mist. The fierce wind vanished in the same moment.
Mo Ling could finally see clearly. They weren’t on the ground.
They were in the sky, at some unknowable height!
Beyond the shield were thick layers of clouds, and the platform they stood on was hurtling through them at high speed.
Mo Ling looked back and realized that the object flying through the sky wasn’t a building, but a long, winding aerial fortress!
Or, to be more precise, it was a colossal, slender mechanical dragon!
A mechanical dragon constructed from those strange, rune-inscribed parts!
The colossal dragon wove nimbly through the swirling mist. Far from being clumsy due to its immense, heavy body, it was incredibly flexible, twisting with an ethereal lightness.
Section after section of its body flickered in and out of view among the clouds, stirring the white vapor and making it billow away like steam jetting from within the dragon’s own body.
Along its streamlined silhouette, runes like distant stars glittered within the vapor.
When they dimmed, they looked like the eyes of some unknown creature lurking within the clouds.
When they brightened, they resembled majestic dragon scales, glinting with golden light.
In addition to its main body, countless individual components streaked through the air at high speed. They were like birds circling the colossal dragon, or like flecks of gold flaking off its body, slowly orbiting its periphery.
As the shield deployed, these components quickly gathered nearby. They arranged themselves in an orderly pattern, the light from their runes pulsing like a breath as they scanned the platform in a state of alert.
Only when Jeff waved his hand again did these sentry-like components slowly drift away, returning to their original patrol routes.
Jeff walked to the edge of the platform and gazed down at the receding mist.
"I don’t know why, but both of you feel... familiar to me," he said suddenly. "Perhaps it’s just my imagination."
"Where did you learn about the limitations of the Fishman Race?" Jeff asked, his back still to them, his voice calm.
"I heard some people talking about it in the prison," Bai Zhou answered quickly.
"It’s hardly a secret. How much do you know?"
"Not much," Bai Zhou said after a moment’s thought. "Just that the Fishman Race has hit a developmental limit. Your strength is capped, you can’t achieve a breakthrough, and that’s why you constantly invade..."
At this, Bai Zhou trailed off, watching Jeff cautiously.
"Continue."
"And so you constantly invade other races, plundering their knowledge and power, using the most brutal methods to maintain your strength."
Bai Zhou gritted his teeth and forced himself to finish the sentence.
Yet, upon hearing such an offensive assessment, Jeff showed no sign of displeasure. He simply shook his head faintly.
"That’s not it."
"You’re thinking about it too simply. That kind of limitation isn’t something that can be broken by mere invasion and plunder."
Jeff didn’t seem to mind Bai Zhou’s wording. He just seemed to feel Bai Zhou’s understanding was too shallow.
"It is an extremely targeted limitation. We generally call it a... Racial Lock."
A race’s development will inevitably follow a certain path, be it developing physical might, pursuing technological research, or something else entirely...
And the Fishman Race chose the path of technology.
Their rune-inscribed components could perform any function, even replicating the effects of relics.
In fact, one could say that every single component the Fishman Race manufactures is a relic in itself.
The functions of these components covered a vast range of applications, and their capabilities were immense.
But just as this powerful race’s component technology reached its apex, a strange phenomenon emerged:
Whenever they developed a new function for their components, an older one would be forgotten.
And this was a complete and utter forgetting.
The Fishman Race didn’t notice at first. Not until they lost the ability to control the movement of their component armors, bringing the entire race to a standstill, did they finally become aware of this bizarre phenomenon.
"No one could remember how to manufacture or control those components. The principles behind them had vanished completely, both from the minds of our people and from all our data records."
They soon discovered this wasn’t just a phenomenon limited to knowledge; it was a restriction that affected every aspect of the Fishman Race’s existence.
Whenever a Fishman learned a new skill—synthesizing a new metal, for example—they would randomly forget another. This could even be something as simple as how to fish or how to start a fire.
And while they no longer needed primitive skills like fishing and making fire, the fact that such fundamental knowledge *could* be forgotten meant the implications of this limitation were terrifying.
’What if one day we forget how to sleep, eat, or breathe?’
After conducting in-depth research, the Fishman Race found a fitting term to describe this phenomenon—
Their skills had "slots."
Like skill slots in a video game. If you have ten slots, that’s it. To learn a new skill, you have to replace one you already have.
Learning a new skill randomly overwrites an old one. It’s a complete and total replacement.
Perhaps the Fishman Race originally had a vast number of "skill slots," which is why they were able to keep advancing.
But now, the slots are full. Other than replacement, there is no other way...
Jeff’s fish-like eyes gazed into the distance. The flying components orbited him, spinning ceaselessly like satellites.
He, who had shown no emotion until now, finally let a trace of despair and helplessness creep into his voice as he spoke of his people’s limitations.
"The Fishman Race... has been locked..."
