The Undying Transmigrator

Chapter 30: Friendly Sparring (?)

More and more people connected to Mo Wen's virtual training space, and within moments, the number exceeded one thousand. Nearly all military-grade augmented soldiers from Dream Corporation without missions had come to join the spectacle, observing Mo Wen with curiosity about why this newcomer was so strong.

Mo Wen understood clearly the source of his strength. Learning devices weren't rare, nor were military-grade augmentations. Even the Dreammaker VI, slightly more powerful, couldn't create a qualitative gap when limited to energy level 3. But psychic power - once his skills improved, he could truly crush everyone.

The intensity of psychic power largely depended on one's mental fortitude, and his spirit was sufficiently resilient. To put it bluntly, in terms of resilience alone, his mental strength had surpassed all possible intelligent lifeforms in this universe, unless there existed some supreme being capable of surviving cosmic destruction across epochs.

His greatest fears, his most unbearable pains, the past he wanted to discard - these had now transformed into his strongest power. The suffering he endured seemed to finally bear fruit. Mo Wen even conceived a crazy thought: perhaps he could rely on his own strength to stubbornly cling to this world and live a normal lifespan, rather than being expelled to other worlds through death.

He had died again and again, been trampled upon repeatedly. Though he still held hope, he had never seen even a glimmer of light - until today. So it turned out he could actually become this strong. Even if it was still far from enough, he couldn't help but savor the sweetness of power and the joy of victory. Again and again.

Mo Wen scanned the crowd observing him. Before today, he was just an odd newcomer. After today, he would be the strong one who imprinted defeat upon them. The number of connections stabilized - those willing to fight him had reached maximum capacity.

Time for battle. "Random arena selection - any objections?" No one protested. With so many participants, randomization was better than debating optimal conditions. Besides, they didn't expect Mo Wen to last long. One-on-one was one thing; one against many was entirely different, and coordinated attacks across all domains in real combat completely another.

Mo Wen could sense their confidence in victory, but he equally believed in his own triumph. "Then let's begin!" The instant the arena transformed, Mo Wen's fighting spirit peaked. Simultaneously, 126 augmented soldiers launched psychic attacks against him.

The intangible force accumulated to such density it seemed tangible, as if hundreds of needles pierced Mo Wen's brain. But he was long accustomed to pain, so... "Like tickling!" His unbreakable mental defense, despite the hundredfold numerical disadvantage, repelled all attacks. The system simulated minor brain tissue leakage from Mo Wen's facial orifices, while his attackers' virtual heads exploded in the simulation, forcibly logged out by safety protocols to prevent real death.

But what followed were numerous debuffs: sensory dislocation, spatial confusion, mind-body disconnect, calculation errors... Individually, these were manageable, but facing them all simultaneously could drive one to despair. Mo Wen's world descended into madness.He could no longer discern shapes - his vision filled with incomprehensible muddy hues, smells and sounds distorted chaotically, his augmentation sensors failing completely. When the entire world deceives you, mocks you, when even your own senses betray you - what can you do?

Mo Wen had faced this question once before during a transition, when he could only die and reconfirm his existence at the Revival Point. This time, he could trust himself - trust that his psychic power wouldn't lie. Closing distorted external senses, he directly perceived others' essences and the world's true form. Beyond human senses, using pure psychic power to redraw positions.

Random target selected. Strike! Some madman unexpectedly tanked the hit, only losing a bit of skin in psychic vision. "Bro trying to kill through the network connection? If not for me holding the line, and both of us being essence level 5 restricted to 3, you'd have blown someone up through mental linkage!"

"Wait, is this your first time using this move? Damn natural talent!" "Everyone shut off sensory distortion! Without senses, this super rookie's breaking through safety protocols while becoming untraceable by the VR system!" Mo Wen's vision cleared.

Before him, the bisected madman rolled his eyes, flipped him off, and faded away in resignation. Then standard restriction-type psychic energy enveloped Mo Wen. His body grew several times heavier, everything around him turned viscous, movement directions divorced from intention - vector thrusters propelled him backward while he fell upward toward the sky.

Normal people would struggle adapting, but Mo Wen had endured worse. A man who died ten thousand times reviewed his deaths, rapidly comprehending, adapting, even utilizing these changes. Combined with his time-acceleration ability, his movements became utterly abstract. Even slowed down, no attack could land.

"Damn it, can't get a lock!" "Could we coordinate our psychic effects? It's supposed to debuff the rookie, not screw us over!" "We are coordinated! But he's splitting the effects on himself - we can't control which debuffs he speeds up!" Against others, even with inertia-free movement, one could track direction via propulsion flares. But fully debuffed Mo Wen moved completely unpredictably.

At least they'd reduced his speed advantage from dozens to merely several times faster - the fight remained possible. Wait - where'd Mo Wen go? The moment they noticed his disappearance, a precise shot eliminated the speed-reduction specialist.

Stealthing in plain sight to eliminate key targets - Mo Wen felt this went well. The previously solid cooperation now showed cracks. Most augmented soldiers couldn't match Mo Wen's speed, and the situation left them slightly confused about next steps. But a few with independent judgment and tactics remained unfazed with their teams.