Chapter 240: Chapter 238: The Unpickable Lock
"It’s a kind of invisible lock..." Jeff continued.
At first, this discovery threw the Fishman Race into a state of panic. They instinctively believed it was the effect of some kind of relic.
The price of this relic had been inflicted upon their entire race, causing this phenomenon.
However, the Fishman Race searched everywhere but couldn’t find any such relic.
The phenomenon was elusive, like a dark cloud hanging over the Fishman Race. Wherever they went, it followed.
The Fishman Race had no idea what caused it, so they could only study its outward effects.
They tried many ways to solve the problem, or to somehow bypass the "skill slot" limitation, but nothing worked.
So, the Fishman Race began to call this phenomenon the "Racial Lock"—a shackle on their people, limiting their development.
More than the lock’s direct effects, the oppressive panic that settled over the race was what truly brought despair.
They didn’t dare to develop, didn’t dare to research, didn’t dare to innovate...
Because every time they learned something new, an old skill would be erased, and no one ever knew which one it would be.
The Racial Lock constantly held them back. After all their attempts failed, the Fishman Race had no choice but to seek outside help, hoping to find a solution from other races.
However, in the Abyss, no one helps another race for no reason. Moreover, most races carefully guard their core secrets and wouldn’t simply hand them over to outsiders.
The price the Fishman Race would have to pay for these secrets was far too high.
The greatest price of all was time.
It took energy to establish diplomatic ties, to trade, to test the waters... all of which wasted precious time they needed to solve their problem.
The stagnation of their race could not be delayed.
To stand still is to fall behind.
And so, a three-step policy became the doctrine of the Fishman Race: invade other races, seize their knowledge, and attempt to solve the Racial Lock.
Their entire race moved onto the Dragon-shaped Fortress, endlessly repeating this three-step process. Their methods grew increasingly brutal, and their hearts grew colder with time.
In the face of this racial crisis, outward conquest served to both ease internal tensions and give every Fishman an ever-present "hope."
"Many of the Fishman Race’s skills today are geared for war. We’ve done our best to avoid this, but acquiring new skills is inevitable."
Jeff spoke calmly, his expression still betraying no emotion, as if he were recounting the story of some other race, not his own.
Bai Zhou’s fists clenched again. He lowered his head, his voice heavy as he said, "But invasion doesn’t actually solve anything, does it?"
"No, it doesn’t." Jeff nodded. "But we need hope."
"Hope can solve many problems."
His tone remained just as placid.
...
Ripples vibrated across the protective shield as clouds drifted swiftly past. On the platform, the three of them stood in silence, not speaking again for a long time.
The massive dragon passed through the clouds, appearing to begin its descent.
Jeff broke the long silence. Pointing to a small island shrouded in thick fog below, he asked, "Is that the island you were talking about?"
Bai Zhou walked to the edge of the platform and gazed down, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yes."
"Prepare for landing."
Jeff’s voice traveled into a nearby component, and its runes flickered.
Immediately, that component began to vibrate, setting off a chain reaction in the others. A wave of light rippled from one to the next, as if an invisible pulse of sound was spreading through the entire length of the dragon.
’Is he giving an order?’
As Mo Ling watched, the wave of light extended all the way to the dragon’s tail.
The massive dragon then accelerated, descending rapidly and plunging into the thick fog of the island below.
The moment they entered the fog, Mo Ling was hit by a familiar smell—the stench of decay, fish, and rot. It was all incredibly familiar.
’Is this Fishman Island?’
The smell of Fishman Island was truly unforgettable. You could get used to it after a while, but the strange odor was certainly distinctive.
"The air is quite nice," Jeff remarked from the side.
He seemed quite pleased with the environment here.
This made Mo Ling even more certain that this place was, in fact, Fishman Island.
’They only arrived on Fishman Island at this point in time?’
What surprised Mo Ling even more was that the Fishman Race had actually come to Fishman Island in search of eternal life.
Thinking of how those same Fishmen looked completely unchanged two thousand two hundred years later, Mo Ling couldn’t help but wonder, ’Did they actually find a way to live forever?’
’But why did the Fishman Race become so primitive? And why did they stay on this island all this time?’
While he was pondering this, the massive dragon slowly touched down. Its enormous body crushed a patch of decaying forest as it coiled up to settle.
"We’ve arrived."
As Jeff spoke, the components at the edge of the platform interlocked, forming a staircase that extended down to the ground.
Other sections of the dragon’s body also began to open slowly. Numerous Fishmen emerged, with flying components hovering around them.
One Fishman hurried over to Jeff. The components beside him flickered, projecting a precise map.
He pointed to a location on the map and reported, "General, reconnaissance is complete. The more primitive civilizations are gathered here."
"Mm." Jeff nodded. "Let’s go."
With a wave of his hand, he fitted both Bai Zhou and Mo Ling with heavy suits of component armor.
The armor, resembling a spacesuit, enveloped them completely, obscuring even their faces.
The armor even thoughtfully formed a Block-shaped helmet to encase Mo Ling’s head.
Then, on Jeff’s command, all the armored figures shot into the air. Like a school of fish in the ocean, they accelerated abruptly, converged into a single mass, and surged forward.
Mo Ling felt as though he were wearing a thick overcoat, but it didn’t impede his movement at all. It was surprisingly light and cool to the touch, with a subtle, buoyant sensation.
He didn’t need to control it; he just let the armor guide him, merging into the school of Fishmen and drifting forward.
Their speed increased, yet Mo Ling felt no discomfort. The armor was incredibly stable, with no vibrations.
Runes flickered. The faster they went, the softer the sensation became. Gradually, Mo Ling felt as if his body were enveloped in cool cotton.
’This is way less effort than flying on my own.’
Not only that, but Mo Ling also discovered the armor had many functions: combat, reconnaissance, camouflage... However, these features all seemed to be locked, preventing him from using them.
The only features left available were very basic ones, like a map, movement, and carrying functions.
This suit was a simplified version, meant only to ensure Mo Ling and Bai Zhou didn’t fall behind.
As he flew, Mo Ling fiddled with the various functions.
’Who doesn’t love a good mech suit?’
Finally, after Mo Ling used the fire-starting function to set off a firework in the middle of the "school," all of his armor’s functions were disabled.
Mo Ling could only let the armor obediently carry him forward.
Soon, a village appeared before them...
