With the virtual laboratory finally secured, Yang Ying pulled himself out of the simulated world, a surge of excitement rising within him. Now that the long-awaited lab was his, many of his plans concerning elixirs could finally commence.

He swiped his hand through the air, and the atmosphere rippled as if disturbed, revealing a semi-transparent screen of light floating before him.

This was the control interface for the virtual laboratory. Yang Ying had just activated it.

Lines of text glowed on the screen, all written in Spirit Script. First, there was an explanatory passage. Yang Ying pressed the nearby scroll bar with his hand, quickly skimming through it, memorizing the contents.

After finishing, he reached out and tapped a button in the upper-right corner of the screen. The display instantly flipped like a page in a book, revealing the next section: the laboratory's settings panel, which included options for standalone mode, network configuration, and more.

The virtual laboratory program he had purchased this time was identical to the one used at the Alchemist Academy. The core program was already installed in his light-brain, allowing him to use it as a standalone version to freely experiment with various concepts without fear of interference from others.

The core program concentrated the vast Library of Medicinal Herbs, which was the true essence of the virtual laboratory and the primary reason Yang Ying had purchased it.

Beyond that, the virtual laboratory possessed a function Yang Ying highly valued: the ability to invite others to log into his laboratory to conduct experiments, just as he used to log into the Alchemist Academy’s virtual lab.

According to the settings, his light-brain could fully function as the server, with the program automatically generating virtual invitations. He only needed to distribute these invitations, and those who received them could log into the virtual laboratory, sharing its capabilities.

As for whom Yang Ying intended to invite, it was none other than his own clones.

The fifty clones tasked with concocting the top-tier Gene Activation Elixir had provided him with fiftyfold experience, enabling him to bridge the daunting gap between Rank Eight and Rank Nine elixirs in just two months, thus achieving the status of a seasoned alchemist. The professors and students at the academy attributed this rapid advancement to Igor’s astonishing talent, profound mental power, and diligent effort. However, Yang Ying knew his true capabilities intimately: his mental power was indeed deep, but his talent wasn't as extraordinary as others assumed. Without those fifty clones perpetually formulating elixirs day and night, his breakthrough would never have been so swift.

Now, however, having entered the realm of Rank Nine elixirs, the knowledge grew increasingly profound. The advantage bestowed by his robust mental power was diminishing. The fifty clones preparing only Rank Eight elixirs could no longer facilitate his progress at the previous dizzying speed. Without change, his rate of advancement was destined to slow considerably.

He had heard that nearly seventy percent of the Empire’s seasoned alchemists possessed Level Three mental power, yet even they advanced through the categories of Rank Nine elixirs at a pace of perhaps one category every few years or even decades. Progress inevitably became slower the further one advanced; delaying for twenty years while moving from Rank Eight-Eight to Rank Nine-Nine was not uncommon.

Ascending from Rank Nine-Nine to Rank Ten-One required an indispensable blend of talent, opportunity, and effort. Countless individuals remained stuck at this threshold for thirty to fifty years without a breakthrough.

Yang Ying felt that if he wished to maintain his meteoric rise in alchemy, he absolutely needed the participation of more clones.

With this thought, he glanced back at the settings panel. One item indicated that he could currently invite ninety-nine other users, bringing the total count to one hundred users, including himself as the laboratory owner.

From the initial explanatory text, Yang Ying knew this user capacity could be expanded. However, expansion was not free; adding every hundred users required a payment of five hundred million Imperial Credits.

Yang Ying recalled that the virtual laboratory used by the Alchemist Academy had been expanded twice, accommodating three hundred users, but he had no immediate intention of increasing capacity.

It was already challenging enough to manifest one hundred clones. His total clone count had only just surpassed one hundred. Fifty were currently busy producing the top-tier Gene Activation Elixir, while the others had their own assignments: leading armies to develop territories on the three main strongholds—the Solar System, Aerth, or (Yiluosi Star)—or scattered across the galaxy, using their eyes to record the customs and cultures of various regions.

Yang Ying weighed the options mentally, realizing that concentrating his clones solely on alchemy would necessitate shelving his other ventures, which was not the outcome he desired.

With a wave of his hand, he retracted the settings panel and stepped out onto the balcony, looking up at the sky.

The north wind howled, driving heavy, overcast clouds. A roaring blizzard swept across the landscape, leaving the world in what seemed to be only black and white—black for the sky, white for the earth.

Snow-clearing robots labored diligently, and few students walked the paths.

Yang Ying still remembered the poetic, light snowfall of the morning. Now, though it was only noon, the weather had drastically altered its demeanor, perfectly embodying the ancient saying that the heavens are unpredictable.

Over the past year, he had grown accustomed to the constant snow in this city; the only difference was whether it was a heavy storm or a light dusting.

Suddenly, Yang Ying felt a jolt. He had just remembered an issue he had previously overlooked: heavy snow and light snow were both snow, just as mental powers of 2.99 million and 1 million were both at the peak of the First Tier. The mental power sustained by his clones did not actually need to remain constantly at the absolute limit of the Second Tier.

Take the fifty clones formulating the top-tier Gene Activation Elixir: the difference between maintaining their mental power at 2.99 million versus 1 million was negligible. He had already formulated over three hundred thousand doses of this elixir, becoming intimately familiar with its process. Reducing their mental power by two-thirds would scarcely impact the preparation; at most, it might slightly increase the failure rate from one in ten thousand to two in ten thousand—a trivial matter.

“Exactly. This is entirely feasible.” Yang Ying analyzed the idea thoroughly and found its feasibility extremely high. A wave of joy washed over him. How did I not think of this sooner?

No sooner thought than done, he turned back into the room, sat cross-legged, and transported himself to the Floating Continent.

He materialized atop the highest peak of the landmass. The vertical drop from the summit to the base exceeded three thousand meters—a height that in ancient times would have been called a 'thousand-zhang peak.' Standing there gave him the sensation of Mount Tai, looking down upon the common world.

Yang Ying raised his right hand, forming a sword finger. A faint light flickered at its tip, waxing and waning, imparting an aura of extreme sharpness and danger. Yang Ying’s expression remained unchanged as he pointed his finger directly at the center of his own brow.

Instantly, a beam of mental force, sharp as a sword, struck his soul. The pain of tearing the soul followed immediately. Yang Ying gritted his teeth, his face impassive. This pain was an unavoidable part of the process every time he split off a clone, yet there was no alternative: only the main soul could cut off a clone; the clones themselves could not replicate this action.

Now that Yang Ying had already carved out one hundred clones, he had endured this agony over a hundred times. In Yang Ying’s view, experiencing this pain each time served as a tempering of the will, although since the sensation was so unpleasant, he would certainly avoid making it a routine method of training.

However, today necessitated an unavoidable 'major hemorrhage.' The spell for cutting off a clone originated from the Dark Praetor of the Divine Race. Yang Ying had later bestowed upon it a name resonant with ancient Chinese charm: Soul-Severing Blade, symbolizing the creation of a clone with a single strike.

After the first clone was severed, Yang Ying did not pause. He brought the second strike down immediately.

Another wave of soul-tearing agony followed, and the second clone appeared.

Then the third. The fourth...

Strike after strike, here upon this towering peak, Yang Ying unflinchingly performed the ritual upon himself...

The overwhelming tide of pain surged like a tsunami, yet he ignored it completely. His resolute will transcended the physical agony, as if he were merely an observer and the soul being carved away was not his own.

Strike after strike. Each time a fragment was cut from the main soul, it sustained damage.

Initially, the damage was minor, but as more clones were severed, the injury grew more severe. Undeterred, Yang Ying channeled a massive surge of mental power into his main soul for immediate repair, and then continued to endure the strikes.

The combined mental energy provided to Yang Ying by the Insect and Divine races now totaled three hundred million. This was his greatest reliance. Supported by a continuous influx of mental power, even though the main soul was severely wounded, it could always be recovered through the consumption of vast reserves of psychic energy.

Strike after strike. The damage and repair to the main soul reached a delicate equilibrium as new clones were sequentially born.

Far from the mountaintop, Katerina was speaking with a few medics when, suddenly, she felt her heart clenched by an unknown force, causing intense, agonizing pain—a sensation she had never experienced since awakening.

In a daze, she sensed the source of the pain: "Commander... is that you?"

Seventy, eighty... ninety... ninety-nine!

All ninety-nine clones were finally severed!

Atop the peak, Yang Ying lowered his sword finger. A feeling of exhaustion welled up inside him, accompanied by a sense of lightness, an almost transcendent feeling, as if he were about to soar into the clouds.

He felt as though he had passed a severe trial, moving one step closer to a higher summit.

He rested on the summit, his mind occupied with thoughts about splitting off ninety-nine clones in a single effort. He resolved not to mention this to anyone, especially Katerina.

Every time he divided his clones, Katerina would fret intensely for a period. To spare her undue worry, Yang Ying had always performed his clone divisions secretly over the years.

If she knew he had just split off ninety-nine at once, he couldn't imagine how worried she would become. In any case, time would eventually reveal it; there was no need to rush.

After a long pause, feeling fully recovered, he stood up and returned to the real world. There were many arrangements to make before the clones could begin using the virtual laboratory.

Apologies, Diamond is quite sleepy tonight, so just one chapter today. I will make up the difference tomorrow; I won't owe everyone anything. Also, a little secret to share: Yang Ying will soon advance to Rank Four, sometime within the seven days of the National Day holiday! Don't waste those double monthly votes, everyone! Support this book for the sake of the Rank Four breakthrough!!! Diamond offers this message with sincere regards.