What exactly was it in the data she’d entered about Bai Xuan that made the Treasury of Knowledge conclude that he and she were so perfectly compatible?
“99%, tsk tsk tsk. Kesha, you’re the one who trusts this data most, aren’t you? Now that it’s staring you right in the face, what more is there to say?”
“He really is your male god—but not Angel Yan’s. He’s yours, Sacred Kesha’s.”
Hexi rarely found such a golden opportunity to tease Kesha, so she couldn’t resist having a little fun at her expense—until an exasperated Kesha grabbed her by the cheeks and started squishing her soft face between her hands.
“Even if you squeeze me, I’ll still say it!”
Hexi mumbled, her words garbled under Kesha’s relentless kneading.
“You old witch, you’re taking advantage of this, aren’t you?”
“Let me see just how much you two have.”
Kesha snorted, then fed Hexi’s data into the system as well. Freed from Kesha’s grip, Hexi rubbed her own cheeks and grumbled:
“Anyway, yours is definitely higher—huh?”
“99%?!”
Hexi stared at the result on the Treasury of Knowledge, completely stunned. Then, catching herself, she cleared her throat and said:
“I think we should just let Yan make her own choice on this matter.”
“If Yan’s not interested, Zhi Xin is also a good option.”
“…”
Sacred Kesha watched Hexi quickly change the subject and couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth. She said with a light laugh:
“What’s the matter? Not teasing me anymore?”
“99% compatibility—that’s higher than Yan’s or Zhi Xin’s, isn’t it?”
“Are you really willing to give up such a perfectly matched male god? From what Yan says, he’s quite handsome—even by our Angelic standards, he’s practically flawless.”
“Are you sure you don’t want such an exceptional male god?”
At Kesha’s teasing, a faint blush crept onto Hexi’s cheeks.
Even Kesha couldn’t help but think to herself, This old witch really does have a certain charm about her.
“Don’t you start with me—you’re at 99% too! I, Hexi, graciously yield this male god to you!”
“Maybe he can help straighten out that temper of yours.”
Hexi shot back, refusing to back down.
“You really do say anything, don’t you? What’s wrong with my temper? Isn’t it perfectly fine?”
Kesha looked at Hexi and, unable to resist, reached out to squish her cheeks again. Hexi retaliated by tickling Kesha’s waist, half-embarrassed and half-annoyed:
“Your temper is stubborn and prickly—it’s got nothing to do with ‘fine’!”
The two of them went back and forth, playfully wrestling in the room, occasionally flashing glimpses of fair, tantalizing skin. What a pity no one was there to witness such a sight.
——-
Back in reality, Bai Xuan had no idea that in the Super God world, two sacred beings had run data match analyses on the Angelic civilization based on his partial data—let alone that the results had turned out so astonishingly high.
At this moment, he was busy planting vegetation in his pocket dimension.
Because of its limited size, the pocket dimension’s spiritual energy density was actually much higher than the real world. Although it already had plenty of plants, they were mostly ornamental varieties with very little diversity, so he’d brought over some tree fruits and seeds from real-world fruits to plant there.
Right now, China was still dealing with the aftermath of the second spiritual tide and the mutant beast invasion.
Loved ones had died. Homes had been reduced to rubble. Many had been seriously injured while fleeing from mutated beasts. In just a short span of time, people had endured far too much.
Back when the mass awakening first happened, they’d been swept up in the joy of gaining superpowers. Sure, mutant beasts existed, but as long as they stayed out of the wild, they were still safe. This spiritual tide, however, had driven home exactly what it meant when they said the world had fundamentally changed.
But there was no choice—life had to go on.
People went to claim the bodies of their family and friends, cremated them, and laid them to rest. Since their homes were uninhabitable for now, they moved into the temporary shelters provided by the government, waiting until their houses could be rebuilt.
And then there were those who, having lost everyone they loved, no longer had any attachment to the world and chose to leave it. Their numbers weren’t huge, but they weren’t insignificant either.
There were likely many more who harbored the same thoughts but, for various reasons, chose to cling to life and carry on.
China had suffered considerable casualties this time, but compared to other nations, it had still fared relatively well.
Thanks to the efforts of Qin Tian, Chen Bing, Huo Yu, Chen Changsheng, Ning Guang, and Ye Feng—who, after completing their second awakening, swiftly cleared their cities of mutated beasts and restored order—things were under control.
Other major nations, including the Beacon Country, also had powerful ability users like Qin Tian and Huo Yu, but far too few—and in some cases, none at all.
Perhaps their people simply weren’t as gifted, or maybe those with outstanding talent hadn’t survived long enough to make it to the second spiritual tide, having perished in some laboratory somewhere.
That wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
After all, not everyone could accept the idea of their citizens wielding power beyond their control.
What’s more, because they lacked powerful ability users to suppress the mutant beasts, they had to rely on high-tech weaponry and heavy firepower—which inevitably harmed ordinary civilians in the process.
In some cases, they’d even resorted to using force before civilians had been fully evacuated.
Sacrificing the few to save the many.
It wasn’t justice, per se—but without a perfect solution, it was the best option available.
Still, such actions were bound to breed new hatred.
During the second spiritual tide, some people’s ordinary abilities had undergone a dramatic transformation. They’d wanted to save the people, only to discover that their loved ones—family, partners, children—hadn’t died from mutant beast attacks, but from the artillery fire of their own soldiers.
Would they turn to darkness? Would they redirect their hatred toward humanity itself?
It was only natural.
Not everyone had the nobility to accept such a humiliating death of their loved ones.
This global beast tide had also exposed the terrifying power of top-tier ability users. They would become the powerful weapons and foundational pillars of their nations in the coming age of spiritual energy—much like nuclear warheads in the real world.
If those countries had any sense, they would certainly try to recruit ability users with exceptional talent.
But how to recruit them was a question that required careful thought.
Offering power, wealth, or priority access to resources—there were many ways to go about it.
Resorting to force and threats, however, was the dumbest approach. Offend a highly talented ability user, and even if they weren’t a threat now, they’d surely come back for revenge once they grew strong enough.
So Bai Xuan was genuinely curious: what would become of those nations that had captured and experimented on powerful ability users?
A future of power struggles between factions built by formidable ability users and national governments?
Warlords carving out their own territories?
Heh.
