CHAPTER 259: UPGRADING

Adyr sank into thought, feeling the weight of a larger scheme unfolding around him—one he couldn’t fully grasp or control. And that alone made him uneasy.

What he had uncovered wasn’t small. At the very least, it confirmed that there was a real connection between his former Earth and the one he now lived in. The conversation hadn’t been a waste; it had revealed a pattern, something tangible he could start building on.

In a strange way, that gave him a measure of relief, just enough to feel like he was beginning to make sense of things.

For now, he chose not to let the unknowns drag him down.

After asking a few more questions—pulling what little remained from the City Managers—he finally decided he had learned all he could from them.

For the time being, it would have to be enough.

"Just know this—our only purpose is, like you, to uncover the truth and escape this cycle," one of the City Managers said sincerely as Adyr prepared to leave.

"We only hope you’ll guide us to that truth. And for that, you have our full support—every deduction, every bit of willpower, and every last drop of life left in our bodies."

Adyr listened quietly, watching their faces. There was no deception in their words. They meant every bit of it.

He gave a slight nod in return—nothing more.

He had no intention of saving anyone. Their hopes and ideals weren’t his concern.

But as long as they remained useful to him—tools that served his future plans—he didn’t care how they saw him.

When he stepped out of the conference room, the hallway wasn’t empty. A small group of researchers stood waiting, all dressed in white coats, each bearing the insignia of their respective divisions stitched over their chests. It was clear they had been expecting him.

"Do you need something?" Adyr asked with a faint smile, noticing how every gaze was fixed on him with quiet anticipation.

From among them, a familiar face stepped forward.

It was Corven, the broad-shouldered man who had previously measured Adyr’s physical stats and power score back at the training floor. His voice, respectful yet tense, broke the silence.

"Mr. Adyr... we were just thinking..." He hesitated, cleared his throat, and continued.

"We were hoping you might allow us to analyze a small portion of your abilities. Nothing too demanding—even just thirty minutes or an hour would be more than enough. We’re currently developing an exoskeleton suit and other gear for STF personnel to use in the other world. And for that, even the smallest data sample could make a difference."

Adyr glanced at the group. Most of the researchers standing there clearly outranked Corven, just by the way they carried themselves and the emblems on their coats. But it was obvious they had chosen him deliberately, most likely because he was the only one among them who had previously spoken to Adyr directly.

When Adyr heard the request, a small smile formed on his lips.

He rarely found himself impressed by others, and even less often did he feel any real respect.

But the research team was different.

They weren’t just intelligent—they were useful. Not just in theory, but in ways that directly aligned with his future goals.

He valued that.

In his eyes, raw power came and went. But intelligence—when properly applied—was a resource with long-term value.

Additionally, unlike the other players—who still relied on game pods to access the other world and were subject to regular medical evaluations to track their progress—Adyr’s exceptional development remained a complete mystery. That made the researchers all the more eager to work with him.

"Sure," he said simply.

It was also a good opportunity to let them better understand his swordplay. With the right insight, they might even design improved swords tailored to his preferences—or possibly create entirely new gear that could prove useful in the future.

Besides, Adyr was curious about his own progress.

The last time his power level had been officially measured—according to PTF standards—it was 304. Since then, he had undergone significant changes, and he wanted to know just how far he had advanced.

While following the researchers, who looked as excited as children now that he’d agreed, Adyr simultaneously shifted part of his consciousness into Twilight Land through his energy body.

His spectral form drifted silently through the air, heading toward the far edge of his island, where the massive, radiant tree stood tall and still.

He stopped in front of it as he pondered. "How am I supposed to make it absorb the genesis energy from Gaze?"

With Malice, it was simple—he had released its dark, smoky aura, and the Mother Tree had absorbed it easily. Grace and Presence had worked in the same way; their ambient energy naturally flowed into the tree.

But Gaze was different. It had no visible aura, no obvious emission. It was passive, always active in the background. There was nothing to inject or project outward.

For a moment, he considered whether he’d need a different method altogether.

Then, as he continued staring at the tree, something shifted.

His vision changed—his Gaze ability activated automatically, showing him ten seconds into the future. In that glimpse, the tree began to stir and grow, subtle veins of light spreading through its branches like energy lines blooming under its bark.

Exactly ten seconds later, just as seen, the system confirmed it:

[Mother Tree responding to the energy source of Genesis.]

[Mother Tree growing...]

A small breath escaped him.

"So... it can absorb Gaze energy like this too. Good," Adyr muttered, relieved that he wouldn’t need to devise a separate method for it.

Moments later, the ground beneath the Mother Tree began to tremble—and with it, both of his twin islands started to shake as well.

Just like before, the endless, translucent energy sea surrounding his twin islands began to stir. Its surface rippled and surged, sending gentle waves crashing against the shores. As those waves struck the land, the Mother Tree—and the entire twin-island structure—started to expand, absorbing the force as if it were nourishment.

In mere seconds, the combined landmass expanded dramatically, stretching outward until it covered nearly 6,000 square meters. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the tremors faded, and everything stilled.

With that, the number of stat points he gained from his daily fruit increased from 4 to 5.

At the same time, the daily fertilizer crystal cost rose from 40 to 50.

"Now my land is nearly the size of a football field," Adyr muttered, arms crossed as his energy body hovered in the air, surveying the vast, though still mostly barren, surface of Twilight Land below.

"It’s time to start filling it. I think I can get some insight from the researchers."

There were plenty of ways to make use of the land—farming, livestock breeding, and resource cultivation. He could eventually sell high-quality materials to other practitioners in exchange for energy crystals.

But each path required serious planning and proper setup.

And if he was going to build something sustainable, it only made sense to consult the brightest minds Earth still had to offer. Even if they weren’t experts in farming or livestock management—at least not within the context of the other world—even the smallest suggestions they could offer might still provide valuable insight.