Facing an Ancient God for a Year
Chapter 1247 - 1245 Strict Pollution Conditions

Chapter 1247: Chapter 1245 Strict Pollution Conditions

So it was not a misperception earlier!

Fu Qian was very satisfied with Reginald’s answer, even including the tone of voice.

Such an undisguised disgust, revealed by someone who is usually silent and composed, actually added to the credibility of the comment.

At first glance out of the window just now, he vaguely sensed something amiss, but it was difficult to pinpoint what was strange about a completely unfamiliar starry sky, so he casually tested it.

Chaotic and profane, Fu Qian now knew where the problem lay—the starry sky outside had a slightly spurious feel compared to the one seen at The Sect, with a certain deviation present.

So domineering to this extent, that even the dreamscape’s starry sky must be accurately real; otherwise, it would be a nightmare?

This level of control over dreams, with only a one-minute limit, is likely connected to the starry sky.

If that’s the case, the Celestial Sphere Sect truly deserves its reputation as a prestigious and righteous organization.

"Thank you for the answer. I felt something was off earlier but couldn’t confirm where the issue was."

In the face of this generous explanation, Fu Qian immediately expressed his sincere thanks.

"Of course, you couldn’t confirm it."

Unfortunately, Reginald seemed to have not yet calmed down from his emotional surge caused by the question, and he let out a cold snort.

"If you could, you wouldn’t have those crazy ideas."

It sounds like my thoughts, in his eyes, are becoming more natural and reasonable—a silent influence indeed.

"Makes sense."

Fu Qian, very satisfied with the outcome, smiled and gestured to Amila to continue.

"Shall we go on?"

"Let’s continue."

Amila clearly did not want to dwell on this matter too much and turned to lead the way.

...

"How do you feel?"

A moment later, standing in front of another blood-stained bed, Amila glanced at Fu Qian and sought his opinion.

"He’s sleeping quite peacefully."

Fu Qian, experienced in his role as a consultant, gave his assessment with just a glance.

Peaceful...

This comment inevitably brought about a moment of silence, but Amila found it hard to retort for a moment.

Because around this sickbed, there weren’t just the three of them—there was also a man and a woman in uniform, busily attending to the patient lying there.

There were several metal bottles set up nearby, similar to what they had seen before, and the one who looked like a doctor was carefully making an incision to let blood slowly flow into it.

And his assistant was ceaselessly monitoring temperatures, the temperature of every body part.

Indeed, as Reginald said, it’s as if there are droplets of molten metal wandering inside the patient’s body, causing severe pain and even convulsions.

The severity was so extreme that at times one didn’t need instruments to assist; it was possible to visually identify where the wandering took place.

The doctor was involved in a pursuit to block and eventually extract it from the body.

Yet, amidst such a tense situation, the patient maintained good sleep, lying there quietly, without even uttering a groan.

The convulsing flesh seemed unrelated to him.

"He is a member of the Twelve Men’s Club."

After a brief silence, Amila still gave a brief introduction to the patient’s background.

"His condition here appears to be more severe than last time."

As she spoke, the doctor’s held breath suddenly relaxed. The cylinder at his neck shook slightly as if some viscous heavy matter had dropped into it, followed by the sound of boiling water.

The assistant immediately handed over gauze, which the doctor used to pad his hand before carefully removing the metal bottle and setting it aside.

Blood poured like a fountain as the doctor finally began to tend to the wound.

"But it’s still normal?"

Fu Qian watched the entire process, deeply admiring the miraculous recovery skills while casually asking a question.

From start to finish, the two medical staff seemed completely unaware of the conversation happening next to them, proving the effectiveness of their masks.

"Why do you say that?"

Before Amila could respond, Reginald by her side directly challenged the statement, seemingly surprised by Fu Qian’s conclusion.

"Just a guess."

Fu Qian carried himself with the unabashed confidence of a bachelor.

"You just mentioned that our duty today is to prevent intrusions into the real world through nightmares."

"Though lacking specific work experience, just using my imagination, these twelve individuals should be like twelve interconnected bridges from nightmares to reality."

"The reason being that when they dream, their bodies are on one side, and their spirits on the other."

"Unfortunately for this patient, his spirit doesn’t seem to be here right now."

Fu Qian pointed at the body, which was like a walking corpse.

"Could it be that his real-world self hasn’t actually fallen asleep?"

"In that case, it feels like this body alone doesn’t have much distinction from the natives, hence my speculation that maybe there’s still no need to worry—but of course, this is just a guess."

...

Fu Qian’s remarks led to new heights of silence within the Night Patrol Group.

For a moment, it seemed as though one could detect a flicker of murderous intent from Reginald.

But as the emotional expert Wen Li said, such minor fluctuations are only natural and cannot alter the overall momentum.

"Now I’m even less regretful of my decision to enlist your help. The changes that nightmare brought to you surpass those of others."

Quickly reining in his mood, Reginald looked at Fu Qian and spoke unhurriedly.

"Before, you were just an ordinary young man."

"Not so ordinary now?"

Far from modest in the face of the elder’s exaggerated praise, Fu Qian accepted the compliment outright.

"Not ordinary, and in fact, you don’t even seem young anymore... In any case, as unbelievable as it may be, you’re not wrong in your guess."

Reginald did not allow Fu Qian to lead the topic astray, steering the conversation quickly back on course.

"Yes, the only possibility in this state is that his real-world self is not asleep, and indeed, we don’t need to worry about such cases, for the passageway has not been established."

Are you that certain because the stars told you?

Fu Qian thought to himself, not feeling too surprised by Reginald’s assertive tone.

The laws of this world are clearly different from those of typical Transcendent forms.

"So theoretically, all we need to do is take a glance to confirm that his real-world self is not asleep, and we can leave directly."

Amila added from the side.

"I was merely asking casually, but I must say you’ve provided an unexpectedly insightful perspective. Any other questions?"

"Yes."

Even if it was just verbal praise, Fu Qian’s initiative seemed to be bolstered as he genuinely continued.

"What would happen if we just killed him in this state? I believe you must have tried it before."

"...There would be no effect; the person would briefly disappear, but soon enough, a carriage would bring another patient with the same name and surname."

Amila did not deny Fu Qian’s accusation of murder.

"He would continue receiving treatment here, waiting for the person outside to fall into the dream."