First assessment mission: coordinates, Round-Gourd Stellar System. Target: thirteen Human criminals in total.
However, just as Andrew Han finished reading, he received another mission notification from the Spark-Heritage Zone's intelligent core—this one was actually related to Mason.
Beep!
"Respected Primordial-tier Genius Andrew Han. Since your first assessment mission is located near Mason, and given your Primeval potential, a second assessment mission is now issued: find Primordial-tier Genius Mason, life and death irrelevant."
The Star-Gate Communicator flashed with light. Andrew Han glanced over it, subconsciously reading the message aloud.
Find Mason... life and death irrelevant...
Andrew Han's pupils suddenly contracted, his heart skipping a beat.
He felt a sense of foreboding.
It was as if dark clouds gathered overhead.
Though he hadn't known Mason for long, that burly, rough-spoken man who always insisted on fist-bumping at every meeting had earned Andrew's deep respect. Seeing the sudden appearance of this second assessment mission, Andrew couldn't help but be moved.
"Could it be..."
Has something happened to Mason?
Andrew Han took a deep breath, a contemplative look flashing across his brow.
The vast starry sky is truly immense, filled with dazzling opportunities and relentless dangers—anything can happen, anywhere. Even a Primordial-tier Genius has no right to dictate life and death. To survive and continue cultivating, one needs both careful strength and fortunate chance.
It doesn't matter what level of genius you are.
Even those at the so-called 'Eternal Cosmic Realm'—said to be undying, unending, never falling, unmatched and immeasurable, reflecting the origin Dao of the starry sky—cannot guarantee they will never die or face disaster.
"Maybe I'm just overthinking it."
"The message clearly states to find Mason, life and death irrelevant. It seems even the Spark-Heritage Zone can't determine Mason's fate for now." Andrew Han's mind flashed with the thought that both life and death were unknown, and he immediately stood up from the flame-wreathed sofa.
He stopped thinking about it.
Worrying serves no purpose; setting out as soon as possible is the right path.
Buzz. The Subspace Flyer began to tremble, ever so slightly—gentle, soothing. It was like a clear ocean rippling with delicate waves: steady, unhurried, never urgent. Ordinary lifeforms couldn’t sense the motion at all.
Even Starlight-tier cultivators would struggle to notice it.
But Andrew Han’s perception was far beyond that now.
He could suppress ordinary Void Rift beings and stand above countless Stellar Palace cultivators—he was truly at the Primordial level.
Andrew’s greatest strength lay in his soul perception: “This is the subspace exit frequency. It’s normal for the Flyer to shake as it leaves Subspace travel.”
“Looks like I’ve arrived. The interstellar journey is over.”
Sure enough, just then—
The Flyer gently exited its travel mode and began to glide through the starry void. After more than three months of silent travel, Andrew finally reached the very center of the Yarlowe Sector of the South-Sage Ancient Kingdom.
This was the site of the central transmission facility.
With stellar teleportation, he could return directly to the Archaic Hall’s Spark-Heritage Zone—no need to pass through the Hall’s corridors. The Hall would automatically recognize his Star-Gate Permissions and route him to the Primordial Gate region.
Only newcomers to the Human Supreme Hall had to pass through the corridor inspection.
This system prevented outsiders from infiltrating the Human Race’s core, and weeded out those born human but harboring disloyalty.
Buzz.
The Subspace Flyer shook again, as if it had stopped gliding.
“Everything went smoothly.”
“I’m about to return to the Archaic Hall.”
Suddenly, Andrew opened his eyes, a brilliant gold-red gleam flashing within them.
He half-turned, glanced at the flame-wreathed, peculiar sofa, and blinked, recording the scene as a keepsake.
Right after that—
Andrew straightened his Green Mountain Robe and strode toward the Flyer’s hatch.
He paused briefly.
Andrew straightened his Green Mountain Robe and walked with long, determined strides toward the Flyer’s hatch.
“Alright.” His thoughts raced like lightning: “Once I’m back in the Hall, back in the Spark-Heritage Zone, I’ll report immediately to the mission pavilion. I won’t return to the Primordial Gate until I’ve completed these two assessment missions—then I’ll challenge the Flame-Heritage Mountains.”
Click.
The hatch opened.
Andrew stepped out of the Flyer, crossed billions of meters in a single stride, bowed to the distant guardian, and entered the transmission facility.
His mind was calm.
He channeled a bit of energy to activate the jade-disk-like transmission array.
Before him, the transmission array spun like a white jade plate, rumbling as it filled the area with a vast white glow.
Behind him, ninety-nine stars orbited three black holes, and those three black holes orbited a small nebula—a micro-universe of immeasurable power. This was the Sealed Celestial Path, a Cosmos Union-peak guardian who watched over this sector.
He managed the array’s daily operations—repairs, maintenance, and shuttling Geniuses to and fro.
“Highness Andrew Han.”
The Sealed Celestial Path’s voice was deep and resonant, echoing across the void to Andrew’s ears: “I respectfully send Your Highness back to the Hall. By the way, were you satisfied with this journey? If so, could you give me a seven-star rating? I’d be truly grateful.”
A seven-star rating was the highest praise.
Back when Andrew first entered the Hall, his receiver Sylvia Chu had also cared greatly about this seven-star review.
“No problem.”
Andrew turned back, nodded with a cheerful smile.
He stood on the transmission array, careful not to turn around—lest the transmission malfunction.
“Safe travels, Your Highness.”
White light surged, space twisted, and Andrew’s figure vanished into the transmission array.
The Sealed Celestial Path watched Andrew depart, a hint of amusement in his tone. He quietly observed as the transmission array erupted with white light, enveloping Andrew’s figure, warping space, and sending ripples through the cosmos—carrying him straight to the Human Race’s Archaic Hall.
Transmission arrays of this caliber were exceptionally precious.
To put it plainly, even an Ancient Kingdom couldn’t forge such a facility on its own.
Rumble!
The transmission array thundered to life!
White light flooded every direction as Andrew vanished!
Its efficiency and speed were hallmarks of the Human Supreme Hall—especially the Spark-Heritage Zone.
After all, for Geniuses, every second of cultivation mattered; wasting time meant falling behind in the brutal competition.
“I’m back.”
Andrew felt the scenery shift around him—his vision blurred, and he was suddenly back in the Spark-Heritage Zone.
Teleportation in the Hall was lightning-fast; it took only an instant to reach the Spark-Heritage Zone. Andrew was well aware of this, so he wasn’t surprised. He glanced around, taking in the familiar Shallow-Red Void.
(Irrelevant web navigation prompt skipped.)
He reported in at the mission pavilion.
After several formulaic procedures, which took less than half a day, Andrew completed the entire process.
He stepped onto the transmission array once more.
This time, it was for an assessment mission—no fee required, and the destination was fixed: South-Sage Ancient Kingdom, Round-Gourd Stellar System. (Note: In cultivation novels, an 'assessment mission' is a formal task assigned to test a Genius’s judgment and ability, often involving investigation and sentencing.)
In the Round-Gourd Stellar System, darkness and cold pressed in from all sides. An oval Subspace Flyer glided silently through the void.
“I’ve arrived.”
“Time to begin the mission.”
Andrew sat inside the cabin, head bowed over his communicator.
Information flickered on his Star-Gate Communicator, reminding him of his tasks.
“Please prioritize the first assessment mission!”
“Complete the second assessment mission at your discretion!” (Note: The phrase ‘life and death irrelevant’ in cultivation stories means the outcome—whether the person is found alive or dead—is not the main concern; the focus is on completion of the mission itself.)
“Primordial Genius Andrew Han, please be sure to review the details of the first mission and make your own judgment.”
“The mission details are as follows:”
“According to reports, there are thirteen Human criminals in the Round-Gourd Stellar System of the South-Sage Ancient Kingdom. Their crimes range from severe to minor, but all violate the basic laws of the Human Race. Since their offenses don’t yet warrant direct Law-Enforcement action, you are tasked with investigating and judging them. (Note: Law-Enforcement refers to the Supreme Hall’s direct intervention, which is reserved for the most serious crimes against the Human Race.)”
“Information on all thirteen criminals has been provided.”
“The South-Sage authorities will assist you, but all decisions—how to investigate, how to judge—are yours alone… Please review and act promptly.”
Click. Andrew read through the information again, then closed his Star-Gate Communicator.
He closed his eyes in thought. Beside him stood his steward Victor Wu and the South-Sage envoy… Only the three of them occupied the Flyer, with Andrew clearly the leader.
Silence filled the cabin.
A long moment passed.
Andrew gazed out at the dark starry sky, where a peculiar cinnabar-colored life planet appeared: “One of the thirteen criminals—Logan Lu, Life-Synthesis Void Rift-tier, butchered over ten thousand life-bearing planets.”
This was the first criminal.
Andrew rose, with steward Victor Wu quietly following at his side.
“Let’s go.”
“Let’s go see Logan Lu.” Andrew walked out of the Flyer with his hands behind his back, each step blooming with lotus-like grace as he descended toward the cinnabar planet.