This discovery startled even Han Su.
Chanting the Fishing Song instantly activated his Spiritual Power, making him far stronger than his normal self. It also allowed him to easily wield the Giant's Eye and the Cross Copper Hand. This had always been his ace in the hole for dealing with all sorts of trouble.
But now, facing the bizarre pollution emanating from this painting, the Fishing Song's drawback had finally revealed itself.
Or rather, his own drawback!
The Fishing Song was incredibly powerful, allowing him to accomplish many things ordinary people couldn't. But this power wasn't without a source; it was built upon his own Spiritual Power.
However, his Spiritual Power was insufficient. It was being consumed too quickly, not enough to completely expel the pollution. Instead, it gave the corruption an opening to contaminate him even more deeply.
As his mind raced, waves of drowsiness washed over him. Han Su felt his consciousness begin to drift and blur.
He felt the panic and despair of this "other self." He saw an underground facility growing older, deteriorating far faster than originally estimated. He watched as the generations around him dwindled, growing stranger and stranger, until they no longer dared to hide.
Even knowing the surface was now filled with radiation and residual solar flares, this "self" decided to go outside. Rather than wait for a slow demise in the underground facility, he chose to return to the surface and search for a new path.
So, he dispatched reconnaissance teams. Wearing the few protective suits they had, they left the facility and returned to the surface. The result, without a doubt, was death.
Their protective suits couldn't withstand the intense radiation at all. All the team members died, not even their blood and bones remaining.
Yet in this hopeless situation, a second team was soon sent out, followed by a third. Later on, many people volunteered to join, whether out of a genuine desire to help or because the oppressive environment drove them to seek death on the surface.
But the surface was merciless. Entering that intense radiation, death was inevitable. Under the gaze of the flare-stricken sun, everyone faced the same end: the disintegration of flesh and bone.
An anomaly appeared amidst these repeated deaths. Among the countless explorers who died on the surface, an aberration emerged.
He died on the surface, his blood and bones likewise dissolved by the radiation.
But his consciousness was preserved in some abnormal state. This consciousness returned to the underground containment facility. It possessed one of the survivors inside and, using their mouth, described everything about the outside world.
He brought precious information to the people underground.
Humanity didn't understand this existence that defied the logic of reality, and neither did this "other self."
But they chose to believe. They sent more people to the surface, including the "other self." Some used the valuable information to avoid the most catastrophic and irradiated areas, but people continued to die up there, including the "other self."
And so, he too changed. He felt himself drifting, formless. He sensed himself occasionally waking up to look at the people before him and pass on news from the surface.
Humanity began to accept such beings, even starting to worship "Them."
They began selecting the most suitable people to be possessed, to become their vessels and follow their guidance...
...
...
'It's the people from this painting...'
After another moment of disorientation, Han Su snapped back to his senses, his eyes wide with shock. 'No, they can't be considered human anymore. They're a completely new species, one I can't possibly understand right now.'
Thanks to his experiences with Flashing, he was practically a master of memory. From the countless polluting fragments, he had glimpsed a corner of the history this painting represented.
He saw the despair of this world's past, and he saw the emergence of a new model for society.
"These..."
An indescribable weight settled in Han Su's chest. "Are these all memories of the previous era's ancestors?"
'Or perhaps not memories, just partial radiation.'
This painting was two thousand years old at most, but the history he was seeing was far more ancient. It must have been from tens of thousands of years ago...
Back then, the vast majority of people were remnants of the previous brilliant civilization, as if not long after the disastrous era of solar flares.
These ancestors were aberrant consciousnesses born from the intense radiation of the last era. Through a method incomprehensible to modern people, they had achieved an alternative form of existence.
And this painting was a portrait of them, made by someone in a certain period.
By painting their likeness, the artist had also tainted the work with their consciousness. What was in the painting wasn't even their primary consciousness, just a mere remnant.
Yet even today, more than two thousand years later, this remnant on the painting still possessed traits similar to theirs. It could invade and possess any ordinary person who came into contact with it, seizing their body.
Including him, right now.
But what struck Han Su with an even greater impact were the scenes he saw within this residual spiritual radiation...
Solar flares falling from the sky, rampant disease, genocide, people hiding deep underground mired in despair—an oppression that snuffed out all hope.
That sense of despair pierced through history.
But what emerged from this oppression was an even more powerful question...
...How did those special consciousnesses come to be?
From masses of people dissolving in radiation to the first appearance of aberrant consciousnesses that survived, grew, and gathered survivors into clans—what was the crucial little change that made it all possible?
An answer was on the tip of his tongue: 'Life Code?'
Those two words seemed to carry an immense impact. Han Su jolted awake and looked at himself, feeling as if his body was riddled with holes.
He was no longer a single person, but a collective consciousness. His body was overgrown with the bizarre limbs of other people—arms, legs, heads, and more.
Most importantly, neither the power of the copper in his left hand nor the Giant's Power in his right eye could effectively counter this situation. Even continuing to use the Fishing Song would only worsen the pollution's invasion.
The only reason he was still holding on was purely because his Spiritual Model was a labyrinth with twenty false turns.
He realized that the memory fragments he had just experienced might contain some mysterious information, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it now. The most important thing was to get rid of the painting's pollution first.
The painting's pollution had stripped away the illusion of omnipotence the Fishing Song had given him, exposing his own weaknesses.
Namely, his Spiritual Power was strong, but his fractured life had split it into pieces. Normally, he could "change batteries" to extend his stamina, but changing batteries at a critical moment was tantamount to giving his opponent an opening.
His fractured life was his greatest advantage, but also his greatest flaw.
Then there was his Spiritual Activity. His initial value of 30% Spiritual Activity was a significant advantage for a newcomer, but taking such a big leap forward had turned it into a disadvantage.
Perhaps if he had started with the C Level tasks Miss Ai had arranged for him, progressing step by step, this advantage would have remained clear. But by jumping straight into B Level Tasks like this, the gap had become apparent.
A reminder from Miss Ai before the mission suddenly flashed through his mind: "Mysterious Power is just a weapon; Spiritual Activity is the foundation."
"The essence of life is a never-ending war. Only by forging ever forward can you break through the forbidden zones!"
"..."
'Is Miss Ai using this painting's pollution to explain the concepts of the Life Code, Spiritual Activity, and these so-called forbidden zones to me?'
For the time being, Han Su filed this question away. He knew that just understanding these things through this task was enough for now. The most important thing was still to solve the problem at hand.
The pollution before him was terrifying, of course, but Miss Ai wouldn't have assigned him an unsolvable task.
The pollution affecting him now was one of the earliest and structurally simplest forms of "aberration." They were initially just independent consciousnesses—they were phantoms, they were Ghosts...
'Ghosts?'
Thinking of these beings, Han Su suddenly recalled the Ghost Princess in the Ancient Castle, and the candles she had lit with her own hands...
This thought made him snap his eyes open. He looked down at his body and discovered that the "people" from the painting had invaded him from all over, but not his right arm, shoulder, or the right side of his chest.
Those were the areas covered by the burn scars!
"Hm?"
A startling idea flashed through Han Su's mind. He focused his concentration, not relying on the Fishing Song, but putting his full attention toward sensing the scarred area.
As his focus and Spiritual Power gathered on the scars, just like the sharp pain he'd felt on the back of his left hand before, the scars—which had theoretically been on his body for ten years—suddenly began to burn.
It was as if the fire from ten years ago was burning him once more, making his skin SIZZLE.
The sensation was so real that Han Su felt as if he had just escaped the Ancient Castle again, feeling that flame scorching, dancing, and consuming his skin.
And in that instant, Han Su noticed a change in his body.
The burn scar had come to life!
The scar left by the fire suddenly transformed back into flames, which danced and flared on his right arm and shoulder.
As the real pain of the fire burned, Han Su shifted his focus. At his command, the scar—or rather, the fire now burning on him—began to flow, spreading to other parts of his body.
In an instant, piercing screams and terrified cries filled his ears.
The moment the fiery scar touched the "people" desperately trying to burrow into his body, their limbs began to twitch and tremble violently as if they were truly on fire. The parts that had invaded his body instantly vanished into nothingness.
And the parts that remained outside his body fell off, piece by piece, reverting to residual radiation and returning to the painting.
Only now, the figures in the painting had become much more illusory, and he could vaguely sense their gritted-teeth rage.
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