Lucifer: The Swamp Fruit

Non-Newtonian fluid experiment—a success!

After more than half a month, he had finally realized the concept he'd envisioned. Although it was still rudimentary—neither its controllable scale nor other aspects could be considered truly powerful yet—Wilder was very satisfied. Having an additional life-saving skill was never a bad thing.

The thick layer of swamp piled on the ground writhed slowly. A powerful punch from Wilder left merely an indent less than a centimeter deep, and even that quickly vanished. It was clear how potent this ability could be if applied in combat.

To be able to use this technique in battle as soon as possible, Wilder didn't rest, throwing himself into training. For over twenty consecutive days, Wilder maintained a strict routine between his garden and the basement. Aside from eating, sleeping, and handling official business, all his time was dedicated to training. His training regimen for new swamp abilities now had an additional item: Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp.

Twenty days wasn't a particularly long or short time. The construction on Fish Scale Island progressed vigorously, with visible changes every day. Various factories and bases sprang up. The task of opening shipping lanes was also successfully completed. All the reefs around Fish Scale Island's waters had now been cleared. Except for a few small reefs left for potential future use, everything else obstructing passage had been bombarded and sunk to the seabed.

Although the obstructing reefs were gone, navigation and trade hadn't yet taken off. Regardless, despite removing the threat of reefs, the white fog still enveloped these waters, making some foreign merchant fleets wary. This was something the Black Serpent would have to actively work on; results were expected soon.

Though trade hadn't yet opened up, recruitment hadn't paused for a moment. With substantial monetary incentives, recruitment became easier and proceeded without major issues. In just over twenty days, the Black Serpent had recruited 1,628 low-level members. Under Wilder's orders, these thousand-plus individuals weren't added to the ship crews but were assigned to a newly established training ground. These new members, along with some veterans reassigned from the fleets, were all immersed in training.

The heavy machine gun project was currently only in its embryonic stage; no concrete progress had been made yet. Wilder wasn't anxious. After all, it was a product that surpassed this era. If it were truly so easy to manufacture, the firearms of this world wouldn't be predominantly such old-fashioned relics.

Everything was changing in an orderly manner. Development progressed at a visible pace each day. The original inhabitants of Fish Scale Island witnessed all this with profound shock, their perception of the Black Serpent unknowingly shifting. Everything was moving in a positive direction.

Wilder's own training had also yielded significant gains and progress. He could now instantly utilize the Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp. There was a conversion process involved, similar to how he solidified his swamp, though this was much more difficult than the former. Currently, Wilder could instantly release a wall-sized mass of Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp and could control it to form various shapes. This was what he could release in an instant; Wilder himself didn't know the full extent of what he was capable of now. He only knew that during a training session a few days ago, Black Serpent members had worked together to push a massive boulder, the size of a small hill, down a mountain. The Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp had brought it to a dead stop!

Truth be told, Wilder could have directly blocked it with his swamp in its normal state, which might have even been more effective. However, that would have required a much larger volume of swamp than the Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp, consumed more stamina, and the sheer scale of dispersed swamp presented too many uncontrollable factors under impact. Using the non-Newtonian fluid was preparation for various attacks he might encounter in future battles. Both methods were viable, each with its own advantages; it all depended on the situation and how he chose to use them.

If facing an enemy and using normal swamp to block, a devastatingly powerful punch might disperse the swamp before it could do much. With Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp, however, the situation was different: as long as it was thick enough, it would grow stronger against stronger forces!

However, nothing was absolute. Wilder knew that "stronger against stronger forces" was one thing, but being impervious to attacks was another entirely. The former didn't equate to the latter. Some attacks simply couldn't be measured by common sense or experience. Perhaps ordinary swamp possessed a destructive potential that Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp lacked.

This was just one application. Next, Wilder planned to explore more diverse uses for the Non-Newtonian Fluid Swamp. For example... creating armor for himself? Or perhaps creating an incredibly durable giant swamp person? Hmm?! Wait... if that were the case... and he added life-like characteristics... A living, super-durable giant swamp person?!! Susanoo?!

His breath quickened with excitement. Wilder calmed himself and suppressed the thought. It was too grand an idea; best not to dwell on it for now. Everyone understood the principle of not biting off more than one could chew. He filed the idea away and rose, walking out of the courtyard.

He was going to announce something. Since everything was on track, there was no need for him to stay here all the time. He had to trust his subordinates with the tasks he'd delegated; worrying was tantamount to not letting go at all. Even if anyone dared to harbor ulterior motives, Wilder was confident he could make them—along with their thoughts and consciousness—vanish!

Without alerting too many people, Wilder simply went to the headquarters and informed Claire and Franpetar, who happened to be there. He was going on a trip.

Yes, Wilder planned to go out and explore. Since arriving in this world, he hadn't had a single day of relaxation. He was always plotting something or searching for something. This time, he intended to embark on a journey with no particular goal, a spontaneous trip to see the vastness of the East Blue and experience its myriad cultures. So that in the future, he could say... "This is my territory."

A small boat, with no escort, drifted away from Fish Scale Island's newly built pier, gliding over the sea caressed by a gentle breeze.

He drifted at sea for three days. The small sail proved resilient, enduring strong winds and rough waves, as well as scorching sun, without any damage. Wilder sat cross-legged, holding a fishing rod in one hand, his shoulders slightly slumped—a state of extreme relaxation. He enjoyed the feel of the breeze on his face, occasionally pulling a bottle of wine from his person, pouring a cup, and drinking. Content and comfortable.

After a short while, the fishing float bobbed. Wilder downed his red wine in one gulp, watching the float to judge the right moment. The time came. He raised his hand, and a small, palm-sized, all-silver fish was pulled flapping from the water.

"Fish for dinner tonight." He said with a smirk, and then… his gaze shifted, and he spotted an island.