The Undying Transmigrator

Chapter 24: Another Attempt

Mo Wen landed on the ground, activating his augmentation's firepoint identification and attack trajectory prediction functions, combining them with his usual perception methods to construct an enemy fire network in his mind.

Ren Sisi, connected via network, appeared beside him, curiously studying the simulated scenario's network. "It's actually using network protocols from over twenty years ago, with no psychic defenses or professional cybersecurity engineers. Some are even older. The scenario's historical accuracy is impressive. I feel like if I inserted some custom viruses, I could crash this era's entire network."

Obviously, such training results wouldn't be productive, so Mo Wen stopped her: "Don't do that. Follow my training pace."

Ren Sisi made an "OK" gesture: "No problem! But if you perform poorly, I can still give suggestions, right?"

"But starting practical training so soon? Have you mastered inertialess maneuvering yet? The psychic communication, precognition, and mental protection trio? Can you suppress your psychic energy levels without equipment now? Have you read classics like 'Augmented Combat,' 'The Unreasonableness of Humanoids,' and 'Ten Thousand Battles for One Victory'?"

Mo Wen casually replied: "The theoretical knowledge has already been force-fed into my brain through learning devices. I'll pick up practical skills through combat. I've already adapted to the augmentation's mobility."

Ren Sisi was both amused and exasperated: "Why the rush? Even if Corporation agents are watching you, as long as you don't betray the company, they'll protect you. Senior Qi Shiming might even personally reprimand any overstepping agents when he's free."

Without evidence, Mo Wen didn't elaborate his reasons, simply stating his conclusion: "You wouldn't understand. I have my reasons for doing this."

Ren Sisi didn't push further, believing she had time to gradually understand this emotionally deprived man: "Alright. Continue?"

"Continue."The frozen world resumed motion, with destructive lights once again falling upon the earth.

The cries of "Run!" sounded again, but this time Mo Wen didn't charge skyward—he advanced along the ground.

In this simulated world, modifying augmentations required just a finger tap to apply effects, so Mo Wen equipped the scenario's best anti-detection coating to reduce targeting probability.

With other targets present and him not drawing attention, the battleships indeed didn't focus fire on him. Without concentrated beam attacks, he wouldn't die.

His Dream Creator-enhanced reactions combined with psychic acceleration meant that apart from light itself, nothing on this planet could match his speed—even most explosive shockwaves couldn't catch him at full evasion.

Everything else moved so slowly. He could see earth being thrown upward, mud and stones scattering; he could watch warheads impact the ground, explode, and shrapnel transform into deadly projectiles within fiery shockwaves.

This was a death zone where ordinary people would perish instantly upon entering. Even Mo Wen from when he first entered this world would have certainly died, but now it was merely a training ground where he could stroll leisurely.

The corner of Mo Wen's mouth unconsciously twitched upward at this strength.

But those who, by scenario design, were his allies weren't so fortunate.

He saw a legless augmented human feebly reaching out, waving, trying to shout something—only to be struck by artillery aftermath the next second.

With Mo Wen's dynamic vision, he could clearly see the shockwave hitting the man, how his body was torn apart, fragments flung elsewhere before being swallowed by other explosions, merging with the earth.

An NPC had died before him.

Even if Mo Wen was faster than shockwaves, he couldn't save someone hundreds of meters away.

And why save them?

They were just scenario-programmed NPCs for training... merely NPCs.

Their terror seemed so real, expressions lifelike, indistinguishable from reality, their will to survive vividly clear.

But if he restarted training, everything would reset. If he ended the simulation, they'd all disappear.

Meaningless.

Thinking this, Mo Wen instinctively grabbed an armored vehicle ahead.

In the driver's seat, a roughly augmented man clenched his teeth, unreasonable modifications torturing his nerves, yet he stubbornly focused ahead, scanning the road and sky for paths between craters to avoid bombardment.

In the backseat, several children curled up, eyes shut, hands over ears, while a tearful woman muffled her sobs, clutching an infant. They were so emaciated they barely took up space, yet packed the rear seats full.

Not a family, but all desperate to survive.

Yet Mo Wen had already calculated the strike trajectory—next moment, this vehicle would be incinerated.

Mo Wen pulled the vehicle, deliberately slowing to avoid killing its occupants by whiplash from his speed rather than letting them burn.

But upon moving, he realized he could only choose between two deaths for them.

He was a step too late.

So he released them, not personally killing a vehicle full, letting them vanish in high-energy particle streams instead.

Only a deep furrow and some vehicle fragments remained as proof they'd existed.

Mo Wen wavered momentarily.

"They're just NPCs," he convinced himself.

The training requirements didn't mention rescuing anyone, only stopping atrocities—so his target was finding and eliminating the enemy command.

The enemy was likely in the distant city. While this simulation lacked introductory cutscenes, it displayed essential intel—red dots marked the distance.

Some unchangeable tragedies in the scenario didn't affect training, and Ren Sisi hadn't commented.

[Your teammate—Ren Sisi has died.]

[Ren Sisi's last words: Why attack children?]

Apparently, emotions led her to protect children, resulting in early demise.

No matter. Mo Wen believed he could handle it alone.

At full speed, he ignored refugee convoys heading cityward.

But behind Mo Wen, away from the convoys, a voice matching the earlier "Run!" scream tore from shredded vocal cords: "I'm here!"

With that shout, a wheel of light rose—so radiant even Mo Wen charging forward could feel its warmth.

He couldn't help glancing back.

Within the lightwheel stood a figure minuscule against its brilliance.

How stupid! Drawing such obvious attention risked concentrated fire! Mo Wen noticed at least half the weapons redirecting toward that individual.

Immediately battered across the sky, the lightwheel flickered unsteadily.

Even suspecting this might be the young version of history's greatest psychic "Qi Shiming," Mo Wen questioned his intelligence.

Rather than drawing fire, a decapitation strike using overwhelming individual power would be wiser.

After this brief look back, Mo Wen never turned again, racing full speed toward his objective.