The people on the first floor of the Muten Tower had waited quite a while but still hadn't seen the little bald kid come out of the trial space. After some deliberation, they came to a few obvious conclusions: either the little bald monk had died in there, or he was addicted to fighting the guards, or...
They looked at each other and then up at the Muten Monument that had been standing still on the first floor all along. Could someone really clear the entire first level in one go?
---
After Jarvis had explained everything that needed explaining, the illusion of the bespectacled middle-aged man turned into a stream of green data and faded away. What remained was the glowing orb that had been following Krillin all along. Now, however, the voice coming from the orb had become slightly mechanical and stiff, no longer carrying the humanlike warmth it had before.
"...Anyway, let's head to the second floor!"
Krillin scratched his bald head and spoke to the glowing orb. He vaguely guessed that the real Jarvis had already left after giving him that final message. Though there was some regret, he had always known the necklace with Jarvis wasn't truly his, so he accepted it rather calmly.
Soon, with the help of his assistant orb, Krillin teleported to the second floor of the Muten Tower.
"There's even more people here than the first floor."
Krillin blinked. The space in front of him wasn't much different from the first floor: an independent room filled with people dressed in various martial arts uniforms, some standing, some sitting, some focusing their energy, others meditating quietly. At the center of the space, just like before, stood a towering stone monument radiating an ancient aura.
"The carvings are even more complex than the ones on the first floor!"
Krillin walked closer, gazing at the stone tablet that held the essence of the second level of the Muken. The patterns on it shimmered and shifted, without forming any concrete shape—just like the Muken itself, which had no set forms, only that fleeting spark of divine insight. It couldn't be copied—only understood through the heart.
Around the monument, about a few dozen others were also silently observing, just like Krillin.
Now that Jarvis was no longer nudging him forward, Krillin didn't get suddenly dragged into the trial space. The little bald head stared at the monument, completely absorbed in the profound, swirling lines, as if he were watching an old figure practicing martial arts on a beach.
Suddenly, the second floor rippled, and a person was thrown out with a cry of "Ouch!"
"Haha, Satan! Failed again?"
"Told you you wouldn't make it! The seventh guardian on the second floor uses 170% of our own strength, and mimics our techniques perfectly. You think it's that easy?"
Krillin snapped out of his trance and looked curiously toward the commotion. The person being mocked was a young man with short, curly black hair. He was dramatically massaging his shoulders and legs, clearly unfazed by the laughter around him, and grumbled, "Tch, maybe if I try a few more times, I'll get through."
Everyone chuckled again, but Satan seemed to be well-liked. The teasing was lighthearted.
"Ugh, I'm running out of points again. Guess I'll take a shift as a security guard later…" Satan glanced bitterly at the central monument, then noticed a short bald kid still looking at him. He raised a brow. "What are you staring at, little baldy? Never seen a future world champion before?"
"Uh… nothing!" Krillin opened his mouth slightly, then quickly turned his gaze back to the monument.
Satan clicked his tongue and walked over to a fellow martial artist he was familiar with. "That little monk new here? Not many bald heads from Orin Temple come into the Muten Tower. I've never seen him before."
The other guy glanced at the pink slime-like AI assistant perched on Satan's shoulder and scoffed. "How would I know? Maybe. I've never seen him around the Association either…"
"What's with that look? Little Boo is adorable!" Satan huffed, patting the pink slime. "We're outta here. Exit the Muten Tower."
Due to limited intelligence (and budget), Satan had to give very clear instructions.
The next second, Satan and the pink slime vanished from the second floor of the Muten Tower.
Before the stone monument, Krillin looked up quietly, thinking to himself: Before "that" happens, this will be my last time entering the Muten Tower... Alright, once I've studied this enough, I'll try the second floor trial!
Remembering what Jarvis had said before leaving, Krillin couldn't help but feel his blood boiling, filled with excitement for the future.
---
After leaving the Muten Tower, Satan didn't look back. He headed straight for the teleportation array to the main city, issuing orders to the pink slime on his shoulder as he went. Before long, he had accepted a public security duty assignment in Jam City. With a flash of light, his clothes changed into a bright red uniform designed specifically for security guards.
"Heading to Jam City?" the staff at the teleportation station asked, recognizing the uniform. Without any unnecessary chatter, they processed his request. Another flash of light, and Satan vanished from the spot.
After all, the Virtual Earth Network wasn't a charity. Upon registering, users had to select a "birth" city. Traveling between different city-continents came with a virtual currency fee.
But most people who entered the Virtual Earth Network came to spend money anyway. It offered fantastical entertainment not possible in the real world. Even snacks and drinks were twice as cheap and tasted just as good. Since real-world tourism also cost money, people naturally accepted this pricing system.
After arriving in Jam City, Satan was assigned to the ninth district's entertainment center for security duty. Security guards had their own booths, and whenever chaos occurred, the system would send alerts. The booths had dozens of monitors for surveillance, within the bounds of the law.
"What a pointless job…"
Satan slumped in his chair, thoroughly unimpressed with his new post. In his opinion, being a "security guard" in the Virtual Earth Network was the ultimate waste of effort.
The super AI of the Virtual Earth Network clearly had the ability to stop criminal or violent behavior before it even happened—sometimes even locking down someone's actions or forcibly disconnecting them, depending on severity, then notifying the real-world police to "provide service".
Yet still, some people kept worrying about AI rights, or the relationship between humans and robots, or memory privacy… Oh please, Satan scoffed to himself, you've already uploaded your consciousness fully into a virtual network, and you're still worried about your memories being exposed?
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