Ning Chuan stood at the edge of the newly expanded platform, gazing helplessly at the distant pile of waste emitting an enticing glow as he let out a sigh.
The four-meter expansion was still limited, but it allowed him to reach many trash piles that he could only stare at before.
Yet, with the broader view, even more extraordinary and peculiar objects in the distance remained out of reach, like carrots dangling before a donkey—visible but unattainable.
Even after reinforcement, the rake was only four meters long.
Combined with the length of his arm, his effective operational range barely exceeded five meters.
That glowing trash pile was at least seven or eight meters beyond the new boundary.
“Ah…” An involuntary sigh echoed across the empty platform.
He had to stick to the old method—steady and sure—clearing the newly expanded four-meter periphery first.
Perhaps the platform would extend far enough next time?
Though tedious, it was safe and yielded tangible rewards.
“Gurgle…”
Just as Ning Chuan steeled himself to swing the rake back into “battle,” a sharp pang of hunger struck, his stomach growling loudly in protest.
Ning Chuan paused, suddenly realizing how much time had passed.
Entering the garbage Station in his true form meant his body’s consumption was real.
From morning until now, several hours had likely passed; outside, the sun was probably high in the sky.
“Time to head back,” he murmured.
His mother must be worried by now.
But as his eyes fell on the drastically transformed nine-toothed rake in his hand, Ning Chuan hesitated.
The rake was now nearly four meters long, its wooden shaft fused with metallic veins, smooth and comfortable to grip, while the rake head gleamed with a silver-gray sheen—clearly nothing like the worn-out farm tool from the village.
How could he explain carrying this back to his parents?
Say he fished it out of a creek?
That would sound far too bizarre.
“Station,” Ning Chuan called inwardly, “list all my current decomposition materials and points.”
A light screen promptly appeared:
“Available Materials: Spirit-Conductive Metal Ingot x 2 (Quality: Common); High-Density Tungsten Steel Ingot x 2; Ancient Earth Dragon Lizard Vertebra Fossil x 1; Shattered Earth Crystal x 5; Biomass Essence x 1 (unit); Zerg Chitin Powder x 1 (unit)…
(other miscellaneous materials).”
Looking at the points and materials, an idea sparked in Ning Chuan’s mind.
“Station, can you use these materials and points to help me…
create a nine-toothed rake that looks exactly like the one I brought in this morning?
Just an ordinary wooden shaft with nine iron teeth, some rust and wear.”
He didn’t need this new rake to be powerful—only convincing enough to pass off at home.
The real enhanced version would stay here in the garbage Station for dedicated use.
“Request received.”
“Solution Analysis: Can consume small amounts of ‘Low-Grade Iron Ore’ and ‘Common Wood’ (must be provided or exchanged) for appearance reshaping and aging treatment.”
“Can consume points to directly generate an identical replica (no actual enhancement effects).”
“Point Cost: 10.”
“Proceed?”
Directly generate it using points?
That simplified things!
Ten points were within his budget.
“Proceed!”
“Command confirmed.
Points consumed: 10.”
“Replication program initiated.”
A flash of white light appeared at the center of the platform, and a nine-toothed rake identical to the one in Ning Chuan’s memory materialized out of thin air.
The rough wooden handle, the slightly rusted and worn iron teeth, over three meters in length—even the details of the teeth his father had repaired were exactly the same.
Ning Chuan stepped forward, picked it up, and weighed it in his hands.
The feel and weight were almost identical.
“Perfect!”
Satisfied, he hoisted this “original” rake onto his shoulder and thought to himself, “Exit the Station, return to physical form.”
The scene before him shifted, and the next moment, he was standing once again at the edge of Holy Spirit Village, in the abandoned threshing ground.
The sun was shining brightly, warming the haystacks.
The rake on his shoulder had returned to its original state, as if everything that had just happened in the garbage dump was nothing but an illusion.
Only the surging twenty levels of Spirit Power within his body and the crystal-clear memories in his mind proved that it had all truly happened. This story is hosted at g.com.
“Gurgle…” His stomach growled again.
Ning Chuan smiled, hoisted the rake onto his shoulder, and walked briskly toward home.
Pushing open the courtyard gate, he saw his mother, Liu Lan, standing at the doorway, looking anxious as she peered out.
“You child!
Where have you been?
How could catching fish and shrimp take this long?
You must be starving!” Seeing her son, Liu Lan first sighed in relief, then couldn’t help but complain.
Her gaze swept over the rake on his shoulder and his empty hands.
“Where are the fish?”
Ning Chuan had already prepared an excuse.
Scratching his head sheepishly, he said, “The river was shallow, and there weren’t any big fish.
I only caught a few tiny shrimp, but they were too small, so I let them go.
Then, since it was still early, I wandered around the back hill and gathered some firewood.”
He pointed to the small bundle of dry branches hooked on the rake’s head, which he had picked up on his way back.
Liu Lan glanced at the pitiful few dry branches, then at her son’s sun-reddened face and empty stomach.
Her heartache quickly overwhelmed her annoyance.
“Alright, alright.
Go wash your hands and eat.
I kept your meal warm in the pot!
Don’t wander so far next time, you had me worried.”
“Understood, Mother.” Ning Chuan replied obediently, placing the rake back in its original spot in the corner of the wall.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief—he had managed to get through it.
After lunch, he helped his father for a while, splitting some firewood.
Then, using drowsiness as an excuse, Ning Chuan returned to his small room.
Closing the door, he didn’t rest.
Instead, he sat cross-legged on the bed, and his consciousness sank once more into the Station.