Above The Sky
Chapter 162 - 162 151 What is this display

162: Chapter 151 What is this display?

(4/4) 162: Chapter 151 What is this display?

(4/4) Reveal true strength…

Having said that, Lamar left the fish market—he was very busy indeed.

As the port finance official, the left and right hand of a viscount, and the person in charge of significant financial authority, the fact that he could spare the time to come and pass a message to Ian was enough to show just how much importance Viscount Grant placed on this matter.

“Is it just polite talk, or have they discovered my hidden talents?”

Reflecting on this, Ian, who had indeed been concealing his abilities, thought that it was probably just a courteous remark meant to encourage him to be fully spirited and give his best performance.

——No.

After giving it some more thought, Ian realized that the viscount’s real meaning was to ‘act’!

——There was no way that Mr.

Silver Workshop, or his Sublimation Plants, just ‘happened’ to come to him for appraisal ‘tomorrow’…

Everyone must have planned it out to stage a grand show of Ian’s ‘hard strength’ to those foreign guests!

A serious appraisal?

×!

An unspoken agreement to act?

√!

“To have the whole Harrison Port cooperate in an act…

neither the Marquise family nor the Alchemy Association would have the clout for that.”

Unable to come up with an answer for the moment, the youth shook his head: “It seems that this matter definitely involves more than just a Glinting Crystal Clam or the South Sea Labyrinth.”

“Let’s go.”

Patting Elan on the head, Ian said, “Or do you want to have fish today?”

“Don’t want, want shrimp porridge.”

The boy’s response regarding food was exceptionally prompt, causing the youth to chuckle and pat his head again: “Shrimp is so much cheaper than fish…

Alright, you’re really easy to please.”

In four years’ time, Elan had grown quite a bit, but he still spoke in his own way.

According to Ian’s check-up, the boy’s problem wasn’t physical, but mental—Elan’s brain area responsible for translating thoughts into words was abnormal.

He couldn’t smoothly express his thoughts, and if he talked for too long, he would even temporarily lose the ability to speak.

This didn’t affect daily life—it was just a bit of clumsiness in speech.

Elan was very clever.

Under Ian’s guidance, he had learned a significant amount of math and some basic woodworking knowledge, and persistently practiced morning exercises with him every day.

Once Elan’s physical condition met the standards, Ian planned to have him practice the Wavechant Legacy that he had modified, preparing him to transition into the Fairy Bloodline.

The overall enhancement and healing of physical condition brought about by becoming a Sublimator should be able to cure this issue.

Ian bought a plate of large shrimp at the White Folks’ fish merchant and even spotted Senan, who looked tired and ready to find friends for a card game.

The Fisherman had a pale complexion, but the crimson signs of certain death on his body had faded a lot.

“Still not completely out of danger, huh.”

After chatting with Senan for a while, Ian got a small bucket of sea urchins.

Carrying this gift, he took his brother home: “Well, at least it’s not certain death, which proves he took my advice.”

Although they were just small gifts, small favors, Ian didn’t feel entitled to them.

Benefit from others, receive people’s kindness, one should always do something in return.

After returning home, Elan conscientiously went to self-study literacy, while Ian went to his own room before preparing dinner.

Ian’s room was very simple, almost all of his personal belongings were in his workshop; the house only contained some changes of clothes and the paper, pens, and slate boards for teaching Elan to read and write.

However, apart from these, near the window, there was a small fish tank with a listless silver scale fish that barely seemed alive, weakly fluttering about.

Ian sprinkled some dried shrimp into the tank.

Immediately, the little fish that seemed only a belly-up away from death perked up, eagerly chasing and gobbling down the shrimp.

Then, the youth activated his Foresight View: “Tomorrow, without revealing my Silver Chip and Foresight View, how would things turn out if I demonstrate my appraisal abilities to their fullest?”

Subsequently, as his thoughts surfaced, a light red mist mixed with light black fog emerged above the little fish.

“Hmm…”

Ian pondered thoughtfully: “There’s risk, not too dangerous, but still needs to be cautious and careful.”

This fish served as Ian’s reference object for self-prediction.

As Elan grew up, the cute little boy could no longer be used as a life-and-death prophetic reference—he and Ian’s fates were no longer as tightly bound.

Although if Ian were to truly encounter disaster, Elan’s fate wouldn’t fare much better, but the likelihood they would both perish was getting smaller and smaller.

At least, it was no longer accurate enough to serve as a reference for impending crises.

So, Ian decided to raise a little silver scale fish.

These fish were incredibly fast, hunting small shrimp and other fish to survive, but their Vitality was only average, dying within days without food.

Ian had instructed Elan that he must never feed this fish, even if Ian was away for a long time; if it died, they would just get a new one, to ensure the reliability of their crisis reference.

The boy had proved to be dependable in this regard, taking any promise seriously and performing it with diligence.

Next, Ian began to use his Spirit Energy, testing various ideas and action plans for the next day, and the multi-colored mists ebbed and flowed over the little fish.

The results were much the same, with no fundamental differences in danger levels.

This is the Prophet’s daily routine—directly experimenting through trial and error across time!

—What mistake, that’s impossible, as long as I foresee enough, and the contingency plans are thoroughly perfected, there’s absolutely no possibility for any elementary oversight to occur!

This ability may be a bit blurry when it comes to foreseeing the future trend, but if it is determined that it’s just for an experiment, as well as the decision-making for the next few days, it can predict quite clearly.

However, now, Ian still has to have a reference point…

Six years ago, that abnormal ‘prophecy’ never happened again.

“It’s a good thing if it doesn’t happen, or perhaps, it’s only if I change that sort of future a little that a new ‘prophecy’ will appear,” he mused.

After meticulously selecting an almost flawlessly perfect action plan, Ian walked out of his room satisfied, ready to make dinner, and prepare a small pot of ‘sea urchin and shrimp seafood porridge.’

Foresight View isn’t without its flaws, setting aside the multitudinous possibilities in interpreting the mist, just the accuracy itself isn’t absolute—if his actions can’t be as definitive as a robot, following a set plan exactly, then the future presented by Foresight View will keep changing.

In the end, Foresight View is just foresight, a Prophet, and not an absolute prophecy, describing a predetermined fate.

It’s just like cooking, even if you have the exact same recipe, the exact same ingredients, as long as there’s a slight deviation in the actions taken during cooking, the final taste will be worlds apart.

“How is it?

Tasty?”

“Delicious!

Very savory!”

“Want to learn?”

“Yes!”

“Haha, wait until you grow up a bit, when you can hold the pot steady, and I’ll teach you.”

The night passed.

Early the next day, Ian woke Elan up.

After completing their morning exercises, Ian asked Elan to chop wood, while he himself went to make breakfast.

The young man instructed his brother to stay at home today, and if anything came up, he could go to the Elder’s Hall to find Elder Prude, and then he left the house, ready to head to his workshop.

Although Mr.

Silver Workshop had invited him to appraise something at Harrison Pharmacy, he still needed to grab some handy small tools and change into a professional set of silver-trimmed white robes that represented an appraiser.

But what was unexpected was that Ian, who had gotten up very early and arrived with great swiftness, found several people already waiting for him at the door of White Chamber Grocery.

The time was probably around seven-thirty in the morning.

“Mr.

Ian!”

Upon seeing the surprised White Folks youth, the tall, thin, middle-aged man waiting at the entrance of the grocery store showed a look of delight.

He laughed heartily and strode forward, extending his hand to the much shorter youth: “I was just chatting with Elder Prude, guessing when you would come—I originally thought it would take at least an hour or two, but he was certain you’d be here within twenty minutes.”

“I really didn’t expect you to start working so early; it’s truly too hard on you!”

“Eh, it’s not hard…

It’s actually you, Mr.

Silver Workshop, who came so early unexpectedly…”

Ian turned his head to see Elder Prude and several of Mr.

Silver Workshop’s guards standing there; the White Folks elder nodded at the young man.

Turning his head back, Ian truly felt a bit emotional: “If I had known you would arrive this early, I might have come a bit sooner too.”

The rich merchant Kutag Lavente liked others to call him by the name of his shop, ‘Silver Workshop.’ This miller had operated a grain business dealing in rice, oil, and flour in his early years, and when the South Ridge Governor began to tighten control over the grain business, he handed over his operations at the first opportunity, earning the Governor’s favor and becoming a model businessman at the time, even receiving recognition as an outstanding citizen from The Empire.

Kutag was tall and thin, with a face that resembled that of an impoverished old farmer, and a greyish-brown goatee beard.

He had contracted a native disease in his youth that had damaged his stomach, so even after he made a fortune from the building materials business with the support of the Governor and became a Sublimator and a knight, he still had some lingering health issues, with a resistance to native poisons even lower than ordinary people.

“At your age, you should be sleeping more.

However, hard work is also a virtue, so I shouldn’t say too much,” he said.

As for Ian’s remarks, Mr.

Silver Workshop couldn’t agree more; he always regarded Ian as an adult equal, treating him with politeness and respect, which also shows how he was able to gain such treatment including from the nobles and the South Ridge Governor back then.

Such a businessman, smart yet courteous, sharp yet decisive, indeed is the type easily poised for wealth.

“I’m going to get some tools and the appraiser’s robe.”

After explaining, Ian took out his keys, opened the shop door, and went upstairs to retrieve his items.

Everyone waited at the entrance until the professionally dressed young man in the white robe emerged.

“Let’s go.”

Suddenly, he became the leader of the group, with both Mr.

Silver Workshop and Elder Prude responding to his lead.

“What’s happening, Elder?”

On their way, Ian walked alongside Elder Prude and quietly inquired about the somber silence of the old man: “This pomp is more terrifying than I imagined—tell me, who is it, the Ellen Family, the Royal Alchemy Association, or even His Majesty the Emperor?”

To this, the White Folks elder stated a single word with a grave expression, causing the youth to look startled.

“All of them.”