Infinite Flow but I Submit Myself – CH31

Chapter 31: Reality

At this moment, Tang Mobai had no idea that his name had already become famous throughout Hungry Hell — because he had simply clicked “Return to City.”

Yaho~ time to go home! (College student on holiday.jpg)

The moment he landed, he realized he’d returned to the same spot where he had disappeared before. Last time, it was an empty field — but now, after just a few days, it had become a sealed chamber.

Wait. Sealed?

“Hold on for a moment, Comrade Tang,” came Wang Yuanzhi’s reassuring voice from outside. “We’re just doing a quick check — it’ll be over soon.”

Tang Mobai stood quietly in place. Soon the indicator light turned green, and following the voice instructions, he walked out of the passageway — only to hear a loud bang!

At the sound of the blast, Tang Mobai instinctively raised his arm to shield himself. But then, instead of shrapnel, small fireworks rained down, their colored sparks landing on his hair. He blinked in surprise, lowering his guard. When he looked up, he saw Wang Yuanzhi, Kui Wen, and the instructor team smiling warmly at him.

“Welcome back, our little soldier.”

Tang Mobai rubbed his cheek awkwardly with a finger and walked toward them with a grin. “I’m back.”

*

Once back in the real world, the first thing Tang Mobai wanted to do was sleep. Well, actually, it was to go through a pile of medical exams first. Even though he’d been checked before and there shouldn’t be any viral issues, better safe than sorry.

Then, while his memory was still fresh, he gave the country a full report — everything that happened after the undead attack, including what he’d seen in the illusion, the details about Deville, and the strange tattoo that had appeared on his arm. For safety, he was still accompanied everywhere by armed guards.

Wang Yuanzhi listened gravely to his account of the deal with the undead. “So, in exchange, you’re now bound against the Jade Society…”

Seeing Tang Mobai’s slightly uneasy look, Wang Yuanzhi reassured him. “Don’t worry. We’ve already offended that guild before — this just makes it more official. But next time, be careful. If that tattoo’s binding is weak, that’s fine, but if it had been a fatal contract — one that kills you for breaking terms — that’d be a real problem.”

“Uh, about that…” Tang Mobai scratched his head. “Actually, the reason I agreed was because — even if they tried to harm me, I wouldn’t have to follow the contract.”

Everyone: “…Huh?”

Tang Mobai opened his personal status window. Since he’d destroyed the revival arena and completed the “Desire” objective, his Self had evolved.

Name: Tang Mobai
Self: Destiny Rank 7 – Troublemaker ? Destiny Rank 6 – Thug
Effect: You overthrew the Arena and embodied your fury. You are the destroyer of rules and laws — and as everyone knows, demons are not bound by rules. Within 24 hours, you can nullify any contract imposed on you once — verbal or written.
Original Sin: Wrath (Reflex speed and attack rate increase with anger, up to +30%)

Tang Mobai explained, “Since I felt my Self evolving at the time, I figured — even if they asked for something crazy, I could just take the benefits and ignore the terms. And besides, I thought maybe the country could make use of alchemy. Worst case, we just pretend it never happened.”

As for the harsh words he’d thrown at the 009 group earlier… well, if the government didn’t like it, he could always apply to take them back.

The people around him had very mixed expressions. Wang Yuanzhi sighed softly. “You really should put your own safety first.”

“Heh, got it.” (He’d totally do it again.)

After giving all his intel, it was time to record the alchemy knowledge he’d brought back. The Ouroboros tattoo had unlocked four texts: On Healing; The Mystery of the Human Body; Delilah Manuscript; Nature and Secrets.

Each corresponded to one branch of alchemy — potion-making, biological alchemy, equipment enchantment, and artifact crafting.

The more advanced things — like the giant revival ritual from before — weren’t unlocked yet. Probably only after his revenge quest.

It took him most of the day to copy everything down. By the time he finished the last word, he could finally rest easy.

He slept like the dead. Soft bed. Perfect safety. It felt like heaven.

A miracle — eight full hours without interruption. When Tang Mobai woke up, still groggy, a knock came at the door. “Come in,” he mumbled automatically.

A waft of warm soybean milk and fried dough scent drifted in. He looked up to see Kui Wen — the psychologist who’d once treated him — pushing a breakfast cart, followed by a few elderly professors with gray hair.

Kui Wen smiled brightly. “Awake? Want breakfast? These are fresh fried dough my mentor just fried, and the soy milk’s just been ground. But if you’d prefer something else, the chef’s ready outside.”

Tang Mobai nearly drooled right there. Remembering the disgusting food in the arena, his eyes filled with tears. “No, no, this is perfect!”

After a quick wash, he ate breakfast while the professors examined his notes on alchemy.

Their conclusion: Alchemy could indeed be applied on Earth. Most chemical laws still worked here. The only challenge was finding equivalent minerals and reagents — substitutes for the original materials — though the final quality might differ.

Still, the fact it worked at all was incredible news. It meant the knowledge from Lost Paradise could push Earth’s science forward.

Even more importantly — it was a complete, logical system of study.

Unlike the mysterious symbols Tang Mobai had brought back before — things scientists could only experiment with blindly — alchemy had internal logic and reproducible laws.

Tang Mobai blinked. “So, like…?”

Kui Wen smiled. “Tell me, Tang Mobai — how were you at chemistry in school?”

“Uh… average?” He felt a bad premonition. “I was a liberal arts student.”

“No worries,” Kui Wen said sweetly, patting his head. “You won’t be for long.”

Sure enough — the next thing he saw was his new class schedule. In addition to the usual physical and combat training, there were now massive blocks of chemistry lessons — plus three new courses: Alchemical Chemistry, Alchemical Physics and Alchemical Biology.

Tang Mobai: “???”

He only slept eight hours — not eight months, right? What on earth happened while he was asleep??

Seeing his bewildered face, Kui Wen explained, “Time’s short, so it’s just these three — all introductory. Once you unlock higher-level alchemy knowledge next time, we’ll move to the advanced curriculum.”

“Wait, what? This is supposed to be an infinite world system — and I still have to study? Did I even transmigrate for real??”

Tang Mobai tried to suppress his despair but finally muttered, “Wouldn’t this waste time? I’m really not good at science. Wouldn’t more survival training be better for my next mission?”

Kui Wen answered seriously, “Don’t worry — you’ll still have survival training. The theory courses are only during rest hours. And according to Yan Wuzhen’s intel, the items you can carry into Lost Paradise are limited. Meaning: even if we build alchemical items here, you’ll have to craft them inside. That requires hands-on skill.”

She paused, her brown eyes calm and firm.

“Besides… you shouldn’t just be a soldier.”

“The world of Lost Paradise is vast. Compared to it, Earth is a pond. When you’ve grown stronger, you may live far longer than others. Scientists reach their creative peak in midlife — but you might never decline. You could remain at your peak forever.”

“Scientists may age and pass the torch… but you could stand at the summit forever.”

Tang Mobai froze, feeling a sudden rush of blood and awe. Come to think of it — he’d never heard of a high-ranked demon dying of old age… well, maybe they just didn’t live long enough to.

“The premise being,” he said quietly, “that I survive.”

“Exactly,” Kui Wen smiled. “And that’s what we’re working toward.”

Remembering the grueling bomb-making during the revival match, Tang Mobai could only nod tearfully.

From sports trainee to last-year exam student in one day. Life was getting way too colorful.

But he didn’t complain. He trusted the experts’ plan. Straightening up, he asked, “So, when do we start?”

“No rush,” Kui Wen said warmly. “Your instructors are still preparing the textbooks. You can rest for about… five hours. Visit family, relax, do whatever you like. We’ve arranged transportation.”

He’d wanted to say he didn’t need rest — but her mention of family made him pause. After a short silence, he nodded.

Half an hour later, Tang Mobai arrived at a military hospital. That was when he learned the government had already made arrangements for his family. Several armed escorts followed him — his own security detail.

Honestly, it was his first time being protected like this. He felt awkward, flustered… and oddly proud. For the first time, he really felt important.

When he entered the courtyard, the soft wind, rustling leaves, and warm sunlight eased his nerves. His guards stopped respectfully outside, leaving him alone.

He saw a middle-aged man sitting on a bench, gray beginning to streak his hair, leaning against the railing — asleep.

Tang Mobai quietly sat beside him without disturbing him. Time passed slowly — ten, fifteen minutes — before the man finally opened his eyes.

He blinked in confusion at Tang Mobai. “…You are?”

Tang Mobai looked at him quietly, then smiled. “Dad, it’s me. I’m home from school.”

The man stared for a long time before nodding slowly. “…Little Bai.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Tang Mobai’s throat tightened. “You recognized me this time.”

“How could I not recognize my own son?”

The man spoke slowly, each word deliberate, as if it took great effort. Tang Mobai showed no reaction — just smiled, holding his father’s hand as he told him stories about university life. His warmth seemed to draw a faint smile from the man as well.

Sometimes, the man would fall silent mid-sentence, his gaze empty and unfocused. Sometimes he’d forget what they were talking about. Tang Mobai repeated everything patiently, over and over.

“I’m doing well now,” he said softly. “Everything’s fine. You don’t need to worry about me. Your son will definitely find a good job.”

“I know,” his father said with a gentle smile. “My son has always been… exceptional.”

“…”

“…”

“Ah — sorry,” the man frowned slightly. “Who did you say you were again?”

Tang Mobai’s smile didn’t last long—it froze on his face. After a moment, he steadied his trembling voice and said, eyes red, “I’m Tang Mobai.”

“Oh, Little Bai, you’re home from school already.”

In the end, the caretaker came to take the man away. Watching his father’s retreating back, Tang Mobai heard the nurse whisper, “His condition has been fairly stable lately, no further deterioration. He just tends to get confused or forget things.”

“I know.” Tang Mobai’s voice dimmed, but he knew it wasn’t the nurse’s fault. Forcing a smile, he said, “Thank you, nurse. Please take good care of my dad.”

The nurse smiled. “Of course, that’s our job. Don’t worry—Mr. Tang is getting proper treatment here. There was a specialist consultation not long ago. While there’s still no complete cure anywhere in the world, with medication and active therapy, his condition can be delayed effectively…”

Tang Mobai listened carefully, but halfway through, something came to mind. “Oh, by the way—did you tell my mom about my dad’s transfer?”

“Mrs. Tang knows, yes, but we gave her a completely reasonable explanation,” the nurse said gently. “You don’t have to worry—she won’t find out about your situation. But… are you sure you don’t want to tell her yourself?”

Tang Mobai shook his head. “Forget it. I’ve already made her worry too much. She’s busy enough with work—I don’t want her constantly stressed about me. If something ever happens to me, could you just… tell her it was an accident?”

The nurse thought for a moment. “I think the higher-ups would rather declare you a ‘First-Class Hero of the Nation,’ send a military escort and police motorcade, and have them deliver a medal to your home with drums and gongs.”

Tang Mobai: “…Wouldn’t that make it obvious to everyone?”

“Mm-hmm. So, to prevent that from happening,” the nurse said, patting his head, “just don’t let any accidents happen, okay?”

Tang Mobai froze for a second—by then, the nurse had already placed a phone in his hand.

“Come on, call your mom.”

Before he could refuse, the call had already connected. A sleepy yet cautious voice came through: “Hello? Baby? What’s wrong?”

Tang Mobai’s father suffered from hereditary depression, which began after his marriage to Tang Mobai’s mother. Despite years of treatment, the symptoms worsened, eventually leading to early-onset Alzheimer’s. At the time, Tang Mobai was still in middle school, and their once-stable family nearly collapsed. It was Mrs. Tang who worked tirelessly in business to hold the family together.

Now, she was away on a business trip. Tang Mobai took several deep breaths to calm himself before speaking in his usual tone, a little spoiled: “Mom, I miss you so much…”

When Tang Mobai finally returned to the car, his eyes were still red, but his expression had softened. The tension and guardedness he carried earlier had gradually faded, replaced by the calm of being back in the modern world.

Gong Wen asked, “How do you feel?”

Tang Mobai scratched his head, embarrassed. “Much better. Sorry to trouble you.”

During the call, he’d lost control of his emotions several times, scaring his mother, who almost took leave to fly back immediately. It took a lot of convincing to stop her. Only then did Tang Mobai realize how much pressure he had been bottling up inside.

“No need to apologize. This is part of my job.” Gong Wen smiled gently. “You’re important to us, Tang Mobai. Please take better care of yourself. If you ever feel uncomfortable, say so—we won’t blame you for slowing things down.”

Tang Mobai nodded earnestly. “I really do feel better now. I can go back to training this afternoon—I’m even kind of excited! Maybe alchemy has cures for diseases that modern science can’t handle yet!”

After seeing his father, Tang Mobai was no longer as shaken as he had been in high school. Now he thought, If there’s no cure in this world, why not look in another?

Besides, there’s Lost Paradise—such a vast interdimensional system surely can treat something like this!

That thought reignited his determination.

Gong Wen simply smiled, keeping her thoughts to herself.

After all, she was a top expert in the eternal question of “What to do when a kid comes back from near-death and refuses to rest.”

Soon, Tang Mobai returned to his familiar training hell—morning physical drills, lab work and theory in between. Most of his time was spent in the lab.

At first, he hadn’t cared much for theory. The basics of alchemy had been imprinted in his mind automatically through the Ouroboros tattoo—no memorization needed. But as the lessons progressed, he realized there was a big gap between rote memory and true understanding.

For instance, relying solely on the implanted knowledge, he could only reproduce existing alchemical formulas—innovation or improvement was impossible.

Now that he began to understand the logic behind alchemy, things became clearer. Alchemy wasn’t just primitive chemistry—it was also art and philosophy, with its own metaphysical rules.

For example, the principle of “One is All” that supports transmutation: if one thing can become another, they must share the same essence—thus, one is everything.

It contradicted modern science, but within alchemical logic, it worked. And the most remarkable part was—alchemy truly allowed conversion between different forms of matter.

To his surprise, studying wasn’t as dull as he’d imagined. The instructors were exceptional, masters at turning complex theories into intuitive lessons.

As for the lab sessions—alchemy was never easy to learn. Even the wealthy Jade Society trained apprentices cautiously because the failure rate was high. Anyone who could successfully brew a potion within a month would earn special mentorship.

Tang Mobai succeeded in just one hour.

A genius? Not quite. It was simply that modern industrial precision completely outclassed ancient methods.

In Rao’s world, alchemists still extracted materials manually—a painstaking process. For modern science, that inefficiency was unacceptable. So Tang Mobai began improving the workflow.

He divided the five potion-making steps—material gathering, extraction, combination, ritual inscription, and infusion—into machine-replicable and human-required tasks. Machines handled most of the heavy work; Tang Mobai only stepped in where manual precision or spiritual energy was needed.

Efficiency skyrocketed. The process now looked less like a wizard’s classroom and more like a legitimate research lab.

Hands-on guidance, video analysis, data review, post-failure debriefing—everything was run like a professional program. The only rule: precision, accuracy, and safety above all.

(Yes, apparently that last explosion during the “bomb-making” experiment had scared the staff more than he thought.)

A week passed in this intense rhythm.

Then one day, while Tang Mobai was mixing a batch of healing potions, a knock came at the lab door.

He looked up to see Gong Wen smiling mysteriously in the doorway.

Conveniently, he had just finished a set of tests. The researcher supervising him inspected the potion, nodded in approval, and dismissed him for the day.

Tang Mobai washed up, removed his lab coat, and stepped out. “What’s up?”

“Nothing bad. I just want to show you something.”

Gong Wen’s mysterious smile deepened as she led him to another sector of the base—a newly built research complex.

Unlike the training area, this place buzzed with both soldiers and lab-coated researchers, many of whom wore expressions of excitement, even mania, whispering rapidly to each other.

Tang Mobai, whose senses had sharpened after his “Fate Enhancement,” could clearly hear their words even from several meters away.

“Did it really work?”
“Yeah. The animal trials went perfectly. That’s why we’ve been fast-tracking the project…”

Animal trials? Tang Mobai’s ears twitched. He had a hunch. He looked toward Gong Wen.

She smiled knowingly. “Well, since we’re already here, I’ll tell you. Do you know why your recent experiments have all been focused on potion-making?”

“…Did something major happen in that area of research?” he guessed.

“Exactly. You’ve mostly been producing the compound coded R-09—known in Lost Paradise’s lower hells as the ‘Little Red Potion.’”

At once, Tang Mobai recalled the same potion 009 had used to heal wounded newcomers during the revival round.

In the gladiator arena, combatants could fight brutally without hesitation because as long as their heads stayed intact, any injury—amputation, burns, fractures—would be healed by the next day. To regrow limbs, they needed the more advanced “Big Red Potion.”

So far, Tang Mobai had only unlocked the formula for the Little Red Potion, which could rapidly heal fractures and minor wounds—a valuable currency in the lower hells.

His eyes widened. “You mean…”

Gong Wen nodded. “That’s right. We’ve begun to uncover its secrets.”

“Come with me,” she said, eyes gleaming. “I’ll show you the results.”

Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉