I really am going to buy it.

People always find that time passes quickly when they are deeply focused. Before he knew it, Li Daniu, who had settled down to study and improve himself, had reached the moment when he had to return.

“Damn, the sea of learning really is boundless.”

Li Daniu set down a book on programming and stretched.

After the system had helped him understand the purpose of this extra travel time, he had drawn up a study plan and begun putting it into practice.

Strictly speaking, Li Daniu was no longer an ordinary person. The inner power of the Nine Yang Divine Skill was constantly improving his physical constitution without his even noticing. Its effects were certainly less obvious than those of the Dragon-Elephant Wisdom Skill, but the results accumulated over time were still considerable.

His energy, stamina, and reflexes had all improved. Even his memory had been noticeably enhanced.

When he had previously studied musical composition, he had needed only a quarter or a third of the time required by an ordinary person. The results spoke for themselves.

And that was merely the Nine Yang Divine Skill. What would happen if he practiced the Tendon-Changing Classic, the Marrow-Cleansing Classic, or other martial arts capable of altering one’s innate aptitude?

According to Li Daniu’s analysis, martial arts that changed a person’s aptitude did more than improve physical ability. They also unlocked the brain’s potential to a certain degree. The human body was an integrated system. If it were compared to a computer, the brain would be the CPU, while one’s physical constitution would be the rest of the hardware. No matter how powerful the graphics card and memory were, or even if the computer used a solid-state drive, a useless CPU would still make it impossible to run a demanding game properly.

Of course, martial arts could not improve the utilization of the brain’s potential as dramatically as nZT-48 could, but they had no side effects whatsoever.

Relying on nZT-48 to enhance one’s learning ability could turn someone into a genius in every field within a short time, but without a suitable way to deal with its side effects, doing so would be no different from killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.

Li Daniu’s current learning ability was certainly inferior to Eddie’s after he had taken nZT-48, but compared with ordinary people, it was already exceptionally fast. He was even on par with a typical top student.

During those four-plus months, apart from spending some time learning to draw, Li Daniu had devoted himself to programming.

From computer languages such as C and C++, he had progressed to creating, entirely by himself, software whose functions were almost identical to those of WeChat. Li Daniu could say without the slightest modesty that if he went to work for any software company now, he would definitely become a top-tier white-collar professional—or rather, an IT blue-collar worker.

What gave Li Daniu an advantage over ordinary programmers, commonly known as IT blue-collar workers, was that he possessed far greater stamina and quicker reactions. A single person working at his pace was equivalent to an entire programming team of ten.

Moreover, because he had learned to draw, he could also handle the work of a graphic designer.

Of course, even a top-tier blue-collar worker was still a blue-collar worker. What Li Daniu lacked was genius-level creativity. After WeChat appeared, dozens of similar products had immediately followed in its wake, because for someone who truly understood programming, creating software like WeChat was not difficult. But why had no such software existed before WeChat?

Although the success of a product depended greatly on promotion, when it came solely to creating a product, coming up with the idea was harder than building it.

Fortunately, Li Daniu did not need ideas or inspiration. He could shamelessly copy them.

“System, how much longer until I return?”

“Seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and thirty-nine seconds.”

“Good. I can read one more book.”

The hotel room where Li Daniu was staying was filled with books on computers. In the beginning, he had needed to find a private tutor, but later he could only rely on self-study.

…

After returning to the real world, Li Daniu looked at the nZT-48 he had brought back and smiled. In truth, the greatest gain from this journey had not been this intelligence-enhancing drug, which could improve the utilization of the brain’s potential. It had been learning that he could use the time in the film worlds to study and enrich himself.

Every month, he would have four months more than everyone else. That extra time would grow longer in the future. Li Daniu believed that if he continued like this, even without relying on the traversal system, he could eventually become the most gifted person in the world.

Of course, knowing something and actually doing it were two entirely different matters.

During his earlier journeys, Li Daniu had gained abilities and wealth beyond anything the real world could imagine, and he had gradually become dependent on what he obtained from the film worlds. Even when he worked hard, it was only to gain more from those worlds. He had never considered using his spare time to study actively and improve his knowledge.

After this awakening, Li Daniu felt far more confident about his own future—and about Tuvalu’s future as well.

Only a few minutes had passed in the real world, and nothing unusual had changed. Li Daniu was full of energy, so he continued his studies online.

Now that he had decided to improve himself, he felt that neither the time in the film worlds nor his spare time in the real world should be wasted.

Although he had not slept all night, Li Daniu remained full of vigor.

According to his previous plan, he was to take the staff of his newly established auction house to the cruise ship he intended to rent and inspect the venue.

Since the ship belonged to someone else and had not been designed specifically for auctions, many areas needed to be fitted with additional facilities.

For example, an exhibition hall had to be arranged to display all the jewelry being auctioned.

This auction would differ from ordinary auctions, which lasted only a few hours. It would continue for seven full days.

There was no alternative. At most auctions, the items were promoted well in advance, attracting wealthy people interested in particular lots. That was how everything could be sold within a few short hours.

Li Daniu, however, did not have enough time to promote his products. Jewelry was also different from antiques or the paintings of famous artists, which were already familiar to many people. Buyers of jewelry cared not only about its value but also about whether it suited them.

Thus, Li Daniu’s plan was to spend the seven days displaying the jewelry during the day while taking the wealthy guests who came to purchase it on cruises through international waters.

The women accompanying those wealthy men would be able to examine the jewelry at close range. Then, each evening, the pieces would be auctioned according to their identification numbers.

Aside from a few exceptionally wealthy individuals, nearly all rich people possessed businesses of their own and had to deal with various matters every day.

Although publicity for the auction had begun a month and a half in advance, it would still be difficult for everyone who wanted to attend to gather in one place at the same time.

Extending the auction to seven days would allow these people to choose a time that suited them and attend more conveniently.

As for how the guests would board the ship once it entered international waters, that was even simpler. For the wealthy, such things were never a problem. Li Daniu could even arrange yachts and aircraft to pick them up. In his eyes, these people were a flock of fat sheep who had come to give him their money.

He had certainly gone to great lengths to make money.

The route had already been approved. After assembling the subordinates he needed for this operation, Li Daniu boarded his private aircraft and flew to Europe.

The cruise ship he had rented normally sailed between Southampton and Cork in Ireland, passing through Portugal, Spain, London in Britain, France, and Italy.

When he arrived, the ship happened to be preparing to begin a new voyage. The cruise company generously waived the ticket fees for Li Daniu and his party. A single passenger’s fare for a four-day, four-night voyage aboard the Independence of the Seas was at least 349 pounds, not to mention that Li Daniu and his companions had been assigned some of the finest rooms available.

After touring the Independence of the Seas, Li Daniu was stunned by its luxury. It had three swimming pools, several simulated surfing pools, an ice-skating rink, a theater, a casino, a nine-hole miniature golf course, and pumps in the surfing pools capable of creating ten-foot waves and whirlpools. It also had karaoke rooms, restaurants, bars, saunas, and every other amenity imaginable.

What the hell was this—a cruise ship? It was practically an independent city.

The theater aboard the ship had 1,350 seats, while the sports center was larger than sixty-two boxing rings. There was even a rock-climbing wall with as many as eleven climbing routes.

Rock climbing on a cruise ship?

There was also a leisure promenade more than a hundred meters long, a library, a six-story shopping mall, and a children’s playground.

Even though Li Daniu was now wealthy enough to spend two billion dollars at once on the construction of an airport, he had never imagined that the life of the rich could be like this.

After the tour, the auction-house staff and representatives of the cruise company began discussing the arrangement of the auction venue.

Li Daniu, meanwhile, drew the captain of the Independence of the Seas aside.

“Are you willing to sell this ship?”

The captain had seen his share of the world. He had received guests wealthier than Li Daniu, as well as guests more powerful than him, so this was far from the first time he had encountered such a question.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but we do not sell this ship.”

There was no product in the world that could not be sold. The captain answered this way because if he quoted an extremely high price, no one would buy it, while if he quoted too low a price, his company would lose money. A cruise ship like this took several years to build. For a company operating in the cruise-tourism industry, why would it sell the very vessel that kept it in business unless the company was being badly managed?

Moreover, the ship had already become famous. It was one of the company’s trademarks. Selling it would be tantamount to destroying its own reputation.

“Then where was the ship built, and how much did it cost?”

“It was custom-built by the Aker shipyard in Finland. The construction price was four hundred million pounds, or approximately eight hundred million dollars. It took more than two years to complete.”

“Can you help me contact them? I want to commission a ship of my own, with roughly the same specifications as yours.”

“You’re serious?” The captain could not help being startled. No private individual had ever commissioned a cruise ship this large. The crew alone numbered a thousand people. Unless someone intended to run a tourism business, could they really afford to support so many employees?

“Of course. I really do want to buy one.”

Thinking of the revenue he would receive the following month, Li Daniu felt that if he did not buy something, he would be letting down the wealth he had “worked so hard” to plunder from the film worlds.

Eight hundred million dollars was nothing, was it?

(To be continued.)