Chapter 24: Smart Pills and Mysterious Thursdays

The sea-blue trade portal opened, and a small cart on wheels rumbled out, carrying a large plastic crate of discarded machinery sent by a netizen.

Lin Bo stepped forward to sift through the contents: an induction cooker, a radio, a quartz clock, a robotic arm... A chaotic jumble of scrap, exactly as he had requested, with a rich variety of items.

[Lighthouse Keeper]: Received. Thank you for your hard work.
[Scavenging Makes Me Happy]: Hard work? Not at all! Your requirements were too simple. This junk is everywhere; I just picked it up while out for a walk.
[Scavenging]: Since you are practicing the "Surface-Touch Endoscopy" technique, it is actually best to use the same type of machine. Practicing on different internal structures is less efficient.
[Scavenging]: That’s how I practiced back then, and I reached Level 2 in about half a month. What do you think? I can help you prepare a set.

Lin Bo felt a sense of wonder. What kind of world did this netizen live in? A place where scrap was everywhere was a paradise for a mechanic—it was like being a druid living in a forest. It was likely that [Scavenging] had already possessed deep mechanical knowledge before becoming a Multiverse Network player, making the practice of the Surface-Touch Endoscopy technique twice as effective with half the effort.

[Lighthouse Keeper]: Having a variety of scrap is more suitable for me.
[Scavenging]: (Suspicious) That sounds awfully arrogant. Could it be that you’ve already reached Level 2?

The Mage did not reply. He sent a smiling emoji, ignored the string of question marks from the enthusiastic netizen, and logged off.

With the help of [Scavenging], upgrading the Surface-Touch Endoscopy technique would be smooth sailing. Lin Bo estimated that he would reach Level 3 in at most four days, and his progress in the Pharmacist's "Tongue-Taste Identification" was roughly on the same timeline.

Currently, his biggest deficiency remained theoretical knowledge. To become an excellent mechanic, proficiency in science and engineering was indispensable. Revisiting mathematics after so many years was grueling enough, let alone starting from scratch with mechanics, thermodynamics, materials science, and electromagnetism. For an adult who had left school years ago, this was truly agonizing. The pile of professional books alone filled a thick crate; reading through them once would take months, and committing them to memory would require over a year. Not to mention that besides mechanical engineering, he also had medical and agricultural texts to tackle—he was truly buried under a mountain of books, suffocating in a sea of learning.

Lin Bo decided to seek a little external help to at least save the time required for memorizing theoretical knowledge. He could digest the knowledge later through practical application.

Countless lazy individuals throughout the multiverse had long since developed various auxiliary learning methods. For instance, DND spellcasters often relied on "Scholar’s Touch," a first-level divination spell that allowed the user to instantly read a book from cover to cover upon touching it—though whether they remembered it was another matter. Then there was the famous "Memory Bread," a piece of black technology from a certain future world that could imprint the contents of book pages onto slices of bread; eating it allowed one to remember the information, though only until the bread was processed by the body.

Magic-related items on the Multi-Trade platform generally carried a premium. A scroll of "Scholar’s Touch" cost 88 Disaster Coins, which was highly cost-ineffective unless one was a Spellcaster of the Magic Weave capable of learning the spell from the scroll. Conversely, technological products on the platform offered more budget-friendly options.

Technologies like the data infusion from the *Matrix* universe or the learning chips from the *Cyberpunk* world could allow users to rapidly master new skills, but the prerequisite for such products was undergoing body modification.

The entry-level product in this category was undoubtedly "smart pills." Examples like NZT-48 from *Limitless* or CPH4 from *Lucy* could elevate a user's intelligence to superhuman levels. However, such potent miracle drugs lacked multiverse universality and were generally only effective in their world of origin. For Multiverse Network players from other worlds, ingesting them could lead to a locked intelligence cap at best, or severe, toxic side effects at worst—leaving one lucky to be alive.

Lin Bo chose a time-limited neuron-activating tincture. Its principle was to stimulate the brain's functional areas, converting short-term memory directly into long-term memory, allowing received information to be stored in the hippocampus for years or even a lifetime. This agent was well-tested, highly acclaimed, suitable for most humanoid races, had no significant toxic side effects, and possessed low drug resistance; long-term use could even improve memory capacity.

A single vial of the neuron-activating tincture cost 11 Disaster Coins, with a discount available for purchasing a set of twenty-four. Lin Bo spent every night reviewing materials on mechanics, medicine, agriculture, and the Frost-Sky style of combat. His schedule was packed, requiring him to consume the tincture every forty-five minutes. A set of medicine would be gone in less than three days—the consumption rate was quite high. Fortunately, the funds earned from exploring maps roughly offset these expenses. While maintaining a balanced budget, he could still save a few Disaster Coins each day; if the loot he dropped fetched a high price, the surplus was even greater.

He estimated that in one week, he could commit all the knowledge he had on hand to memory, by which time his Mage profession should also reach Level 4.

In the following days, the weather remained rainy and overcast, with morning mist lingering over the sea. This forced Lin Bo to keep the lighthouse lamp burning longer until the temperature rose and the fog dissipated, no longer obstructing ship traffic.

It was Thursday, the day of the congregation. In the early morning, the elderly believers of the town set out with umbrellas, walking along the misty streets to gather in the church for worship.

The elderly congregants present were of various identities, though all were male. Among them were officials and teachers from Stone Tower Town, small business owners, night watchmen, and elderly fishermen and workers. The Five Gods were not only religious beliefs but also symbols of different social classes and professions. Each faith formed its own social circle, and once a faith was chosen, it was usually kept for life—though there were exceptions. Many young people worshipped the warrior god, but as they aged and weakened, they would turn to the faith of the Elder.

Furthermore, officials, especially those not of noble birth, were not permitted to worship the Holy Father and thus had to turn to the Elder; the same applied to merchants. It was a tradition for teachers to follow the Elder; commoners who took up teaching positions usually chose to convert.

As a long-established industrial nation, the Kening Empire had been promoting eight-year compulsory education since the previous century, aiming to cultivate qualified assembly-line workers. With several reform movements, the selection of civil servants had shifted from noble appointments to examinations, making school education the most important path for commoners to ascend the social ladder. Stone Tower Town only had an elementary school, with three male teachers responsible for the education of over a hundred children. Every Thursday morning, the school was closed because the teachers went to church.

Inside the church, regardless of their usual status, the worshippers of the Elder could converse relatively peacefully. The officials, who served the nobility and were perhaps stern and rigid in daily life, did not appear overbearing before their fellow believers. The teachers discussed history with the stubborn old sailors, smiling and nodding along to the old men's boasts. The merchants and the night watchmen discussed public security, noting that no thefts had occurred recently. Interestingly, the patron god of thieves was also the Elder; perhaps the thieves themselves were hiding among the congregation, listening to how others defended against them.

Everyone shared news and anecdotes; the congregation was an important channel for information exchange. Every circle had its so-called "inside information" that would not easily spread; to learn it, one had to integrate into the circle.

The priest scanned the congregation from the pulpit, as there was still some time before the service began. Several members were absent: some were away, such as the owner of the old street pawnshop who had gone to Hongdu; others were ill, and the oldest teacher had been bedridden for several days.

Additionally, he did not see the lighthouse keeper. It was expected that a new member should not be late for their first gathering, as it might leave a bad impression of disrespect toward the gods. The priest looked at the thick fog outside the window, thinking that this was likely a matter of duty, and some regrets were inevitable.

"Can the Night Watchman not come?" a believer asked. The new member was a topic of interest for everyone.
"Look at this thick fog; without the lighthouse to guide them, ships at sea would all be lost," the old sailor said loudly. "It's right that he didn't come."
"He is undoubtedly a qualified Night Watchman. He rarely goes out and never causes trouble. Since old Tim passed, I don't think anyone is more suitable than him," the tavern owner offered his opinion.

Upon hearing this, the mayor said to those around him, "When he attends the next gathering, we will speak with him. If we are convinced of his upright character, I will write a letter of recommendation to be submitted to Viscount Pearl for approval, and we can issue his official appointment documents. From then on, this stranger will be a legal resident of our Stone Tower Town."

The old priest nodded at the mayor's reasonableness, then sighed with regret, "It seems we must wait for next time. The fog is truly thick today."

The Mage leaned out of the lighthouse window. All he could see was a vast expanse of white; neither heaven nor earth were visible. Apart from the cylindrical lighthouse walls above and below, the world seemed to have vanished entirely.

"What a truly dense fog."

He had actually wanted to attend the Thursday congregation.