Behind us, in the distance, a frantic alarm sounded and resounded through the huge astral-steel corridors of Port Ironclad, but by that time we had already moved several streets on and were smoothly mixing in with the busy, neon-lit streets of the downtown area.
I rounded the corner of a bustling magi-tech market, tilted my red-and-white cap up with two fingers, and a smug grin appeared on my face.
Vik asks the system, "Then regarding this new name, should I refer to you as 'ChatBot-3000' or 'ChatGPT-Lite'?"
The system said: "...Host, I am experiencing a state of complete and existential despair. That guard actually had a high-tier spiritual scanning monocle, three administrative clearances, and thirty years' worth of experience in border security, and you managed to get past him by pretending to be a ten-year-old cartoon character from Earth."
Vik says to the System, "You should never underestimate the power of childhood nostalgia; it extends across worlds and avoids bureaucracy."
Pushpa, who at the moment had her fur painted bright yellow with black tips on her ears and zigzag stripes down her tail, turned her head slowly in my direction. The golden slits in her pupils narrowed to become extremely thin slits showing a deep and pure feline judgment.
She made a low and threatening hiss, one that was clearly similar to an Outer God considering the total undoing of my mortal lineage.
"All right, all right, wait a moment," I chuckled, swiftly raised my gloved hand and sent through a soft flow of Prana and Void magic.
The bright yellow dye and the painted stripes came clean off her fur, turning into a thin mist of grey before floating away on the coastal breeze. Having been restored to her smooth, entirely black coat, Pushpa emitted a sharp, contented harrumph, shook her fur, and pushed her chin deep into my collarbone, although at the same time giving my neck a warning bite with her fangs.
My disciples were still grappling with the incredible absurdity of what had just taken place behind me.
Lu Xiaoran was dressed in a green sleeveless jacket, cargo shorts, and a backwards headband, looking rather like an over-enthusiastic sidekick. He scratched the back of his head and looked at me with a blend of reverence and complete bewilderment.
"Master..." Lu Xiaoran whispered, his voice breaking a bit. "I thought we were going to carry out a high-level covert infiltration or make use of an ancient illusion formation... But you simply told a border officer that your name was Ash Ketchup and then walked through the front gate."
I smoothly replied to Xiaoran, "A real scholar adjusts to the psychology of his audience," and at the same time snapped my fingers. My red-and-white cap and blue denim vest disappeared back into my spatial ring with a slight shimmer of spatial magic, once more being replaced by my clean, flowing white scholar's robes and my gold-rimmed spectacles. "Violence leads to suspicion and absurdity causes cognitive dissonance; while his brain was occupied in dealing with childhood memories, we were already three blocks away."
Dressed in a brown travelling tunic which only just contained his huge shoulders, Roman gave out a deep and booming laugh. "The Master's Dao of Deception is indeed profound; the high-grade Soul-Scan Array failed to detect our actual cultivation level since the officer had manually stamped our clearance out of pure sentimentality."
At the same time, Lina had already put on her neat alchemist's coat and adjusted her brass monocle by quickly tapping a small holographic touchpad which was on her forearm.
"Master," Lina said, her voice clear and to the point, "I've gained access to the city's public transit system. The port guards have put out an amber alert regarding 'a suspicious young person wearing a red-and-white hat who is travelling with an electric yellow beast', but as we've already changed back into our normal clothes, their facial recognition mana detectors won't be able to identify us. That leaves us with a logistical issue, though: West Oak City is four thousand kilometres to the west and is located right in the middle of the Central Plains. If we walk or fly openly through the high-altitude military air space, the regional anti-air defence cannons will be activated."
Noah moved forward, the vibrant red hair of his extending slightly beneath the hood of his dark travelling cloak. His crimson eyes were keen and surveyed the surrounding magi-tech spires with a close familiarity.
"No need to fly," said Noah in a quiet voice, as he indicated the enormous, raised steel tracks extending from the port city over toward the far western mountains. "The transportation network of the Western Continent is linked together through high-speed Mag-Rail Spirit Trains which are powered by central mana reactors. The Continental Express Line 9 takes less than thirty-six hours to run directly from Port Ironclad to the Central Plains Hub."
So a high-speed train, you mean? I smiled, running a hand over my chin. Comfortable seating, beautiful views of the mountains, dining cars, and no need for me to waste my own spiritual energy—now that does sound like proper travel.
The only problem, Master," Noah remarked, his face becoming serious, "is that the Continental Express demands either first-class travel tokens or official commercial trade permits; the economy cars are crowded with bounty hunters and wandering cultivators, while the first-class cabins are solely reserved for the noble houses of the various regions, high-ranking sect delegations, and commercial guilds.
"That's why we have so much collateral," I said with a smirk, looking over at my spatial ring where the arrogant young master Luther was presently tied up like a holiday roast. "Lina and Roman are to go to the central ticket pavilion, buy a private luxury sleeper cabin using a standard merchant alias. Noah and Xiaoran, come with me; we need to pick up some travel snacks and find out what the local news has to say about the current political climate in West Oak City."
"Yes, Master!" they all replied at the same time.
Twenty minutes later we rejoined ourselves in the large, glass-roofed central terminal of the Port Ironclad Train Station.
It was a remarkable example of engineering that combined magic and mechanics—a large, multilevel station in which huge, elegant locomotives made a hissing sound as superheated mana-steam escaped from them and floated a few inches above magnetic track formations. Among the crowd were cultivators dressed in embroidered robes, dwarf artificers who carried enormous wrench-staffs, and aristocratic ladies each accompanied by a retinue of personal knights all under the towering crystal arrival boards.
Lina gave me a set of brass keycards with engravings on them. "Room 4, Carriage 1, Private VIP Sleeper Suite; it takes up the whole top floor of the front luxury carriage and leaves in ten minutes."
I nodded in agreement and went ahead to the boarding platform.
When we got on the elegant train and had settled ourselves into the plush velvet sofas in our private suite, the locomotive blew a deep and clear horn which shook the station platform. The heavy steel doors closed with a quiet pneumatic hiss and thus cut off the noise of the busy port.
The floor experienced a gentle vibration as the train's mana reactor turned on and it began to speed smoothly away from the station. Less than a minute later, the busy harbour and the coastal sea mist became streaks of grey and green, the locomotive quickly rising above 500 kilometres per hour as it rushed towards the massive western mountain ranges.
I sat down deeply in the velvet sofa by the panoramic window and filled my cup with tea from the automated kettle in the suite. Immediately Pushpa took the best position on my chest, emitting a soft, rhythmic purr as she curled herself into a black ball.
Beyond them, the rolling green hills, the sharp obsidian canyons, and the old, towering spirit forests sped by in a dazzling flurry.
"Noah," he said, ending the pleasant silence as he stood by the window with his eyes focused on the distant western horizon, where dark storm clouds were gathering over the far Central Plains, "as the terminal's news programmes indicate, the City Governor's Office has placed the Bloodborn family's ancestral estate under administrative quarantine and plans to auction off our ancestral spirit veins in three days."
Noah's fingers stirred slightly, a spark of crimson lightning appearing under his fingernails before he subdued it with cold, terrifying control.
"Three days," I said, taking a slow and leisurely sip of my tea, my yellow eyes shining with a dry and calculating light behind my gold-rimmed glasses. "The train doesn't arrive until a day and a half from now, so we have plenty of time to rest, make use of the complimentary dining cart, and prepare a very special homecoming gift for your former fiancée and the local governor."
I ran my hand gently over Pushpa's smooth back as the train went through the mountain pass.
I said, in a calm smile typical of a scholar, "Let the auction start; it's far more entertaining when all the villains are gathered in one room."