Chapter 36 | First Directional Activation

It happened suddenly.

That afternoon, someone came to the repair shop at the edge of town.

Not to fix anything, but to find Li Xing.

A transport truck had broken down on the road, carrying freshly harvested grain.

The location was remote, and it was getting dark; another night's delay would result in significant losses.

More importantly—the truck's problem wasn't a typical malfunction.

A hastily welded-on transmission component had developed a structural misalignment.

It wasn't a question of whether it could be repaired properly,

but rather that one wrong step could cause the entire system to collapse while the truck was in motion.

When Li Xing arrived at the scene, the truck was already surrounded.

The driver was anxious, and his entourage was even more so.

He crouched down to examine it, and after just two glances, his heart sank.

This was a critical juncture requiring immediate judgment, yet with almost no room for error.

Relying on experience, he could repair it.

But the risk was extremely high.

Relying on space,

means—the first time truly activating that "high-level door."

He stood up and took a deep breath.

He forcibly suppressed his emotions.

This was the first hurdle set by the space—emotional stability.

He confirmed he met it.

The second hurdle—not for recurring gains.

This wasn't business;

it was an emergency.

He met that as well.

The third hurdle—not continuous.

He knew that after this,

he couldn't access this permission again for a while.

All conditions were met.

He didn't hesitate.

In his mind, he gently "clicked" the prompt.

No window opened.

No information flow.

The world seemed to be refocused.

Targeted activation.

What he saw wasn't more data,

but—a single, valid, safe path.

Not the optimal,

not the least effortful,

but the only approach that minimized risk.

The space didn't do it for him.

It simply placed that path clearly before him. He began to work.

His movements were slower than usual,

but each step was unusually precise.

The surrounding people grew increasingly quiet.

No one disturbed him.

The entire process took less than forty minutes.

The car restarted, running smoothly.

Success.

At that moment, the space

immediately contracted.

No lingering warmth.

No delay.

When he stood up, his body felt normal,

but his mind experienced a distinct sense of "decline."

Not fatigue,

but like having just used something he shouldn't have used so frequently.

He knew this was the price.

On the way back, he didn't say a word.

Not out of lingering fear,

but to reflect.

He realized something very important:

Targeted activation

wouldn't make him stronger.

It merely—allowed him, under the premise that he was "already restrained enough,"

to avoid making one less unbearable mistake.

That night, he made no records.

Because some points are not suitable for repeated review.

But he clearly remembered that feeling.

It wasn't being carried by space,

but rather, after he gained his footing,

space gave him a more stable foothold.

This was cooperation, not takeover.

And from that moment on,

he truly stepped into—the world of advanced users.

Not because of ability,

but because he already knew:

Even if the door is open, it's not always time to go in.