Chapter Six: Teleportation
Turning to the second skill, he tapped it open.
[Teleportation: Appear anywhere you wish, ignoring any barriers (Distance: 100 meters, related to number of deaths).]
“Awesome...” With the groundwork laid by [Fist of Remnants], Zhou Tian was already mentally prepared. Though this skill was impressive, he merely exclaimed, “Nice!” as a sign of respect.
“Wait, why is there a question mark at the end?” Just as he was about to check the next skill, Zhou Tian noticed a glowing golden question mark at the end of the [Teleportation] description. Curious, he tapped it.
[Ignoring any barriers means that within the skill’s prescribed range: if space is blocked, it utilizes the rules of time to teleport; if time is blocked, it uses the rules of causality to teleport; if causality is blocked, it employs unspeakable rules to complete the teleportation.]
“Wow, this system is really considerate—it even comes with annotations.” Zhou Tian was astonished. Apparently, this was an explanatory note, afraid he wouldn’t quite grasp what ‘ignoring any barriers’ meant.
After reading the annotation, Zhou Tian’s gaze grew fervent. The true strength of this skill lay in its ability to bypass any blockade. With this, its value soared—no one would ever be able to touch him...
But... if no one could touch him, he couldn’t be killed. If he couldn’t be killed, how would he accumulate deaths? Zhou Tian realized he’d fallen into a logical trap; he no longer needed to avoid death, but instead craved it.
He opened the next skill:
[Judgment Strike: Summon a bolt of lightning to hit the chosen enemy, causing up to five seconds of paralysis, depending on enemy strength (uses per day: 1, related to number of deaths).]
This skill was formidable as well—at least one second of paralysis, meaning it was essentially unrestricted by levels. Combined with [Fist of Remnants], it would be incredibly powerful: control plus damage.
Zhou Tian gazed at the three shimmering skills, conflicted and unsure how to choose. All three were strong, but each had limitations: [Fist of Remnants] required hitting the enemy’s body; [Teleportation] had no offensive power; [Judgment Strike] could only control enemies, and without cultivation, he couldn’t add extra damage.
“Sigh... I suppose [Teleportation] is best—at least it has no usage restrictions.” After much deliberation, Zhou Tian finally tapped into the [Teleportation] skill interface and pressed the plus sign beside it.
Fragments of light coalesced; the [Teleportation] icon stopped flickering and became constantly lit. A surge of information flooded his mind, and the other two skills turned into dark streaks, slipping into the still-locked skill list below.
“So that means I can choose them again in the future?” Zhou Mu’s eyes lit up slightly. Judging by the situation, those two skills had merged into the subsequent skill slots. Zhou Tian was initially a little disappointed—though he chose [Teleportation], it didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted by the others.
The main reason for choosing [Teleportation] wasn’t just its unrestricted use; another crucial factor was that, although he could now revive, each resurrection happened at the location of his death. If news of his ability to revive leaked out, enemies could simply set up a damage formation at the spot, trapping him in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. During resurrection, he would be unconscious—after all, he was just a mortal. Unless he had skills to strengthen his body, there would still be many ways to punish him.
With this barrier-ignoring [Teleportation] skill, he had much more room for maneuver.
But Zhou Tian still coveted the other two skills, thinking that choosing [Teleportation] would cause the others to vanish. Unexpectedly, they had merged into later skills, giving him another chance.
This had its pros and cons. The benefit was not having to regret abandoning good skills, as there would be more opportunities to choose. The downside was that many undesired skills might reappear, occupying the unlockable skill slots.
From the system description, Zhou Tian learned that the three skills appearing with each level-up were randomly drawn, with no fixed pattern. He doubted this Immortality System lacked useless skills.
Closing the system interface, Zhou Tian savored the information that had just appeared in his mind—it was about how to use [Teleportation]. After learning the skill, the Immortality System directly implanted it into his soul; it became as natural as eating or drinking, a bodily skill he could use at any time.
Staring at the space behind the desk, his body blurred, vanishing as if torn apart, and reappeared at the spot he wished to reach.
At the same time, an epiphany dawned upon him.
“So this is how teleportation works via the rules of time.” Sitting in the chair, Zhou Tian revealed a thoughtful expression. The entire Prince Qin’s residence was warded, its space sealed by powerful formations; thus, [Teleportation] had just shifted him using the rules of time...
[Teleportation] found, among the infinite future possibilities, the one where Zhou Tian reached that position, then extracted and implemented it onto him, completing the move.
Within the room, Zhou Mu’s body blurred repeatedly, vanishing and appearing on the ceiling, under the bed, atop the desk, in midair—having a blast. The hundred-meter range extended in all directions from Zhou Mu as the center; the space was quite vast.
Knock, knock, knock!
A soft knocking sounded. One moment Zhou Tian was suspended in midair, the next he was already at the door.
He opened it. Outside stood a maid in green, holding a violet sandalwood box, about to speak:
“Young...” The word “Master” hadn't left her lips when she saw the door open, startled by how quickly it happened, as if he’d been standing right there.
A moment later, she regained her composure.
“Young Master, this is your dinner. The lord asked us to bring it to you!”
Zhou Tian nodded, took the meal, and instructed,
“I understand. You may go.”
The green-robed maid replied, “Yes,” bowed, and left.
“Why do all these maids look so plain...” Shutting the door, Zhou Tian grumbled. Weren’t the maids in novels always enchanting beyond compare? Why were his so ordinary, with not even a childhood companion among them? Sigh...
He opened the violet silver-threaded sandalwood box in his hands, its surface adorned with faint, transparent runes—likely for insulation.
A mouth-watering aroma wafted out, making Zhou Tian swallow. The golden meat glistened with oil, pale green vegetables sparkled like jade, and the soup contained golden, dragon-like substances swimming within, rising steam forming shapes of exotic beasts.
After a day of exertion, Zhou Tian was indeed a bit hungry. He sat down and devoured the meal with gusto. The flavors were exquisite, making him wonder why he hadn’t noticed just how delicious the food was these last few days.
Today, his cheat had arrived; tomorrow, he’d have to seek out Tian Ling for some fun. Relationships were built through such exchanges, after all—so many things to attend to.
What? “Vacant gaze”? Sorry, how could I possibly have such an expression! Zhou Tian smiled slightly, picking up his pace as he ate...