Chapter Ninety-Five: Experiments on the Influence of Chaos

“So, how should we deal with this thing?”

In the laboratory aboard the Imperial Verity, Wang Ming gazed at the strange, artistically styled long blade sealed within the psychic suppression container. He turned to Xu Zheng, who held a data pad nearby, and asked.

“No idea. According to the AI’s data, this was discovered in the ruins of an ancient civilization on a distant planet. It’s probably some kind of chaotic artifact. Maybe we should just toss it into a star?”

Xu Zheng looked at the blade thoughtfully and replied to Wang Ming. The sword had been found in the storage hold of the Starry Sky ship. Thanks to an earlier AI alert that revealed the destination of Onyeka Shiam, Wang Ming and the travelers had searched the warehouse and finally located the sword.

“Sounds reasonable. Or… why not try having someone use it first? Then if things go south, we can still throw it into a star.”

Wang Ming stared at the blade, pondering for a moment before a reckless idea struck him. What if someone actually wielded this obviously chaotic weapon? What would happen?

“Worth a shot. It would also give us a chance to study how chaos affects us. But who should we pick to test it?”

Xu Zheng nodded, approving Wang Ming’s suggestion. It was an opportunity to see how the travelers’ minds resisted chaos.

“Hu Jin, come to the lab. That sword you’ve been drooling over—you can give it a try.”

Upon hearing Xu Zheng’s question, Wang Ming instantly activated his communicator and contacted Hu Jin, who was eating in the mess hall.

“Woohoo!”

As soon as Wang Ming finished, Hu Jin’s excited cheer came through the communicator.

He’d been fascinated by the blade for a long time. Ever since it was moved to the lab, Hu Jin had been captivated by its fierce appearance. He had been pestering Wang Ming to let him handle it. Even if it was a chaotic artifact, he wanted to try it—worst case, he’d just blow himself up and respawn.

This was the perfect chance. Wang Ming had grown tired of seeing Hu Jin’s yearning eyes every morning. Imagine a muscular man staring at you daily with such longing—it had been driving Wang Ming mad.

The moment Wang Ming’s message arrived, Hu Jin rushed to the lab without hesitation. To prevent accidents during the experiment, he was stripped of all his powered armor except for his underwear. If chaos corruption occurred, at least they could easily handle it with grenades—or plasma if necessary.

After all preparations, Hu Jin was led to the testing chamber, a psychic suppression room originally designed to imprison psychic users. Nearby, Cloyas Raingal was lamenting behind iron bars.

A miniature thermal fuse was implanted into Hu Jin’s head before he was instructed to carry the box containing the chaotic blade inside, ready to begin the experiment.

As the heavy door of the psychic suppression chamber shut, Hu Jin slowly opened the box and drew out the long sword.

“Hu Jin, any updates?” Xu Zheng’s voice echoed through the chamber’s speaker.

“There’s someone talking to me inside the blade,” Hu Jin said, brandishing the sword a few times. “It says that if I strike the boss with this blade, I’ll gain infinite power. But I think it’s all nonsense. The demon inside this blade is probably a tormentor, isn’t it?”

Hu Jin continued swinging the sword, remarking on its surprisingly good feel, though complaining about the demon’s incessant whispering in his ear.

“Do you feel the demon inside the sword is affecting your mind?” Wang Ming asked anxiously. If the demon began to influence Hu Jin’s sanity, Wang Ming was ready to burst in and end it with a single strike, both to save Hu Jin and to relieve his own mounting frustration.

Hu Jin didn’t respond at first. Eyes closed, he stood motionless as if deep in thought.

After about a minute, his expression suddenly twisted into one of intense anger. He opened his eyes and glared at Wang Ming through the observation window.

Seeing Hu Jin’s furious look, Wang Ming immediately drew his golden greatsword, eager to burst in and end the experiment with one decisive blow.

“Boss, it’s insulting me!” Hu Jin shouted just as Wang Ming prepared to open the door.

“Who’s insulting you?” Wang Ming asked, lowering his sword reluctantly upon hearing Hu Jin’s familiar voice.

“The demon inside the blade. It called me a coward. No way. Boss, send me the Imperial Codex—I’m going to retort!”

Hu Jin stared at the blade in his hand, anger and determination burning in his eyes.

“All right,” Wang Ming sighed, reluctantly activating the Imperial Codex. Its sacred voice filled the psychic suppression chamber as Hu Jin resumed staring at the long sword, lost in thought.

About two hours later, Wang Ming was watching Hu Jin, wondering if the young man had been bewitched or if the loyal power sword might need to remind him of his allegiance.

Suddenly, the long blade in Hu Jin’s hand suddenly jumped free with a sharp snap, landing some distance away on the floor, as if deliberately putting space between itself and Hu Jin.

Wang Ming watched closely—it was clear that Hu Jin hadn’t let go; the blade had leapt out of his grasp on its own.

At that moment, Hu Jin opened his eyes, lifted his chin proudly, and strode toward the sword on the ground like a victorious warrior. His steps even matched the holy rhythm of the Imperial Codex’s prayers.

Wang Ming noticed the blade trembling ever so slightly as Hu Jin approached, as if it were afraid of him.

“Damn it! How dare it insult me? I have five thousand years of Chinese vocabulary to deal with you!” Hu Jin exclaimed, picking up the trembling blade.

Once in his grasp, the sword’s slight tremble escalated into violent shaking—the demon inside was beginning to fear Hu Jin.

During the two hours prior, Hu Jin had learned the blade’s demon was one of the chaotic gods. From its origin to its current behavior, he launched a relentless verbal assault without mercy.

At first, the demon scoffed. But as Hu Jin’s words grew more incisive, cutting straight to its core, he systematically denied its existence and purpose with objective, rational arguments. He even embellished his tirade with the richness of five thousand years of Chinese lexicon.

After two hours accompanied by the sacred recitations of the Imperial Codex, the poor demon was thoroughly broken by Hu Jin’s verbal onslaught.