Automatic Treasure Hunt and Hazard Avoidance Guide [Combined Edition]

Dawnstar Sector.
Imperial Second-Tier Alliance Administered Zone.
Blue Valley Star System.
Rust Planet.
Eighth Abandoned Spaceship Processing Yard.

The sky, a hazy green-gray, was shrouded in ceaseless drizzle, veiling the world in perpetual gloom.

Mountains formed from the wreckage of starships rose in jagged lines, their slopes carpeted in dark green moss, resembling a forest of emerald. Acid rain, cascading in endless rivulets, chiseled streams and brooks through the debris, painting a monochrome landscape as if splashed by an artist’s brush.

Suddenly, with a crackling roar, one corner of a twisted ridge burst apart. Azure arcs of spirit-fire scattered in all directions, trailed by a flurry of high-energy particle radiation; moss, dust, and corroded metal fragments erupted, swirling through the air in a chaotic, mesmerizing ballet.

Out from the crevices slithered black, glossy Spirit-Eater Worms, their heads darting as they surveyed the blast zone. After a moment’s hesitation, they surged forward en masse.

Not far away, through the curtain of rain, a half-humanoid scavenger exosuit strode steadily toward the explosion’s heart…

A pack of mutated wolves, drawn by the commotion, crept nearer, but upon spotting the scavenger exosuit, they hesitated, growling low and mechanical, their threat lost beneath the exosuit’s imposing silhouette.

This was the graveyard of civilian-grade spirit-powered long-range starships.

As advanced cultivator civilizations spread across the galaxy, hybrid spirit-core and nuclear fusion starships became as common as household appliances, affordable to every family, capable of faster-than-light travel, and essential for ordinary folk’s journeys and adventures.

Yet the convenience of starflight brought with it mountains of derelict hulls, malfunctioning spirit-etched components, and all manner of radioactive waste.

For scavengers, however, these wrecks were treasure troves, brimming with valuable parts and raw materials. Each time a cargo ship dumped its load of starship debris, scavengers would swarm the site, even coming to blows in their scramble for the best junk.

In this age when the very fabric of spirit energy was thinning across the stars, scavenging itself had become a fiercely competitive and dangerous line of work.

Curiously, the exosuit advancing through the rain seemed to pick off-peak times for scavenging, a solitary figure apart from the crowd.

This was a patchwork suit of iron-blue metal, three meters tall, half-humanoid, headless. Its enormous torso was a perfect cargo hold. The right arm ended in a massive, ten-fingered hand for gripping; the thick left arm was a multi-tool, incorporating a cannon, a chainsaw, a drill, and more. Flight engines were integrated into both legs.

The scavenger exosuit reached the site of the blast. The mutant wolves snarled but dared not approach, slinking away in the rain.

The exosuit bent forward, plunged its left hand into the torn hull, and ripped open a wider gap, then leapt inside the starship wreckage.

Within the cavernous interior, the exosuit revved its engines, its left arm cutting through bulkheads as it advanced, carving a path straight to the deepest engine room.

There, a colossal, fractured, and corroded starship engine loomed.

Inside the cramped cockpit, a handsome young man’s face lit with excitement.

In his vision, a line of translucent text appeared:

[A severely damaged hybrid warp engine, from a Feangdi Zhou-class long-range vessel built fifty years ago. The engine casing is completely destroyed, the core partially damaged, with major spirit-etch corrosion.]

“The warp drive is always the most valuable part on a long-range ship. As long as I can salvage five such engines, I’ll have enough to assemble a working warp drive!” the youth declared confidently.

His name was Lu Chen, nineteen years old, and not a native of this world.

Three years ago, he had crossed over from an internet café on twenty-first-century Earth into this universe.

He was certain: this starry sky was the very same as the parallel world of "Galaxy," the sci-fi MMO that had obsessed him in his past life.

"Galaxy" featured an open universe built upon “spirit energy” as both the path of cultivation and the main energy source. It boasted a vast, seamless map, boundless interstellar vistas, and a wealth of races and professions to freely choose from.

In his previous life, Lu Chen had been a computer science student addicted to "Galaxy," and, being a skilled programmer, had secretly written himself a cheat—a plugin he called [Treasure-Seeking & Hazard-Avoidance].

The plugin, as the name implied, massively boosted his character’s detection abilities, automatically filtering for safe, high-reward scavenging targets in the vicinity, and warning of danger or identifying loot.

With this, he had turned a perilous space adventure game into a laid-back sightseeing and treasure-hunting experience—a life of leisure and stress relief.

Yet, on the very day he tested his cheat, he inexplicably crossed into the game's parallel universe.

He awoke in the very body of the character he had crafted, in the hardest starting location for any player—the Rust Planet.

A world bordering on wasteland.

All around, he was the only “player.”

This universe merely resembled the game’s setting—it was a living, breathing reality, every person a true life.

Even the character he himself had designed was now flesh and blood, with just one precious life to his name.

Perhaps there were more, but he dared not test it.

The only good news: his cheat plugin had crossed over with him!

The automatic treasure-finding and hazard-avoidance guide!

Lu Chen was overjoyed—with such an advantage, he need not compete with powerful adventurers, but could target uninhabited ship graveyards, ancient battlefields, or unexplored planets, using detection abilities that outstripped any exosuit or starship to unearth relics lost to time.

The longer a component had survived the ravages of time without decay, the more precious it was—a true gem among treasures.

This way, Lu Chen could roam the galaxy in his long-range ship, exploring every hidden corner, amassing untold treasures: ancient cultivator abodes, battlefield ruins, primeval jungles, wrecked warships, fossilized beast bones, remnants of ancient artifacts, hidden mineral veins, rare spirit beasts or plants…

Sometimes, he even stumbled upon pristine alien ponds—then he would take out his fishing rod and spend a blissful afternoon in peace.

Lu Chen’s ambitions differed from those of most transmigrators.

In this world, ordinary people with enough money could live to two hundred through organ transplants and nanomedicine.

Cultivators, of course, could live even longer.

Lu Chen had no desperate craving for immortality, nor did he fear being killed. Even if old age threatened, his hazard guide would warn him when it was time to ascend—if he didn’t cultivate soon, it would be too late.

He loved adventure, travel, and treasure-hunting, but preferred to avoid unnecessary risk. That was why, in his past life, he’d written a plugin for easy, relaxing treasure hunts—a gentle, pleasant star-roaming adventure.

But here, in a real universe, many practical challenges presented themselves.

For instance—

How to leave the novice village?

Rust Planet was too remote, its economy backward.

Mining and waste processing were the main industries.

Environmental pollution was dire; the surface nearly a wasteland.

Population: just a few tens of millions.

The only city, Jinhuxing, was monopolized by an archaic mining company that handed down all jobs by heredity—leaving little opportunity for newcomers.

In the game, a player could simply buy a long-range ship from the shop, recruit teammates, join the Adventurer’s Guild, and head to the Pangu Corridor to begin a dazzling career.

In reality, Lu Chen had started as a scavenger.

In three years, aided by his treasure-seeking plugin, he’d assembled a flying RV and a scavenger exosuit from pieces he’d found, scouring the planet for loot.

He repaired and refurbished secondhand spirit tools, selling them to fund his studies at Jinhuxing Academy and saving for the starship parts he still lacked.

If nothing went wrong, in another two years, he would have a fully operational long-range starship, and his cultivation would reach the minimum standard set by the Adventurer’s Guild.

—

[Host Name]: Lu Chen
[Host Race]: Human
[Spirit Energy Level]: 9
[Spirit Profession]: Spirit Mechanic
[Treasure Map]: Focus to view (Note: Only scans for targets nearby with no ownership disputes, which the host can acquire with low risk and great reward given current resources and abilities.)
[Hazard Guide]: No immediate risk (Note: Will provide early warnings for danger, leaving ample time for evasion.)
[Item Identification]: A severely damaged hybrid warp engine, from… (Note: Must approach target closely for full details.)

—

In the interstellar cultivation era, physical cultivation and professional skills were distinct yet complementary.

A normal adult’s spirit energy level was one.

The Adventurer’s Guild recommended a minimum long-range travel physique of level ten—enough to survive unprotected in vacuum or on hostile planets for ten minutes, awaiting rescue.

With the hazard-avoidance guide, Lu Chen had, in just three years, and with a “train till you drop” courage, pushed from level one to nine despite meager resources—just a step from the long-range standard.

But advancing from nine to ten was like the leap from the peak of Qi Refinement to the Foundation Establishment Stage—it required a breakthrough, and Lu Chen still needed more resources.

Among many spirit professions, Lu Chen had chosen Spirit Mechanic for three reasons—

First, in his past life he was a hacker, and the rune logic programming used in spirit tools was fundamentally the same as the code he already knew. Before writing his cheat, he had pored over the game’s database, mastering rune logic inside and out—even if the details differed here, the underlying principles were identical.

Thus, upon crossing over, his rune programming abilities were nearly at maximum.

Second, the plugin’s item identification feature was invaluable for assembling, modifying, and repairing machinery as a Spirit Mechanic.

Third, Spirit Mechanics could upgrade and refit starships and combat exosuits, maximizing safety and boosting treasure-hunting efficiency.

Fourth, Spirit Mechanics were highly respected.

Well… perhaps that was outdated.

Once, humanity had conquered the galaxy through advanced spirit mechanics, but now, within the Empire, Spirit Mechanics were just a product of population surplus—if you wanted to make money, finance was the way.

Even so, when Lu Chen filled out his college application this year, Rust Planet’s Spirit Mechanics Bureau rejected him.

Apparently, not every planet was eager for industrial upgrades.

Supporting more industrial workers with outdated production, boosting population and claiming higher imperial subsidies—this was a path too.

The universe is vast; every world has its way of life.

Lu Chen was unconcerned. Staring at the discarded warp engine before him, he was exhilarated.

“Not a bad haul today—coming all the way to the planet’s acid rain zone was worth it!”

He directed the scavenger exosuit to strip away the engine’s ruined shell and outer components.

Then he hopped out of the exosuit.

With a universal wrench in hand, he dismantled the engine core, carefully harvesting undamaged or easily repaired parts to load into the exosuit’s belly.

With his haul complete, Lu Chen leapt back into the exosuit, opened the top hatch, and slid into the cockpit.

He piloted the scavenger exosuit swiftly out of the wreck, crawling cautiously from the opening to the surface.

Engaging the flight engines in his legs, he shot skyward to the cacophony of howling mutant wolves.

In midair, the legs retracted, leaving only the thrusters exposed; the arms unfolded, deploying glide-wings as he streaked east.

Cumbersome in shape, but powerful and reliable.

—

He had not flown far when his wristband vibrated.

Lu Chen opened the video call, projecting it onto the exosuit’s cockpit display.

On the screen appeared a tall, muscular youth, awkward but with a glint of cunning in his eyes.

This was his classmate and sworn brother from Jinhuxing Academy: Wang Tianlin.

Wang Tianlin was a year older but a level behind in cultivation. His family owned an eco-farm on the city’s northwest edge.

Receiving his acceptance letter, Wang Tianlin seemed elated.

“Lu Chen, I finally got into the Star Defense Force!”

Lu Chen was genuinely pleased for him. “You should have gotten in long ago.”

Wang Tianlin was a little sheepish. “Luck, and a few connections… And you? Even someone like me made it into the Star Defense Force. You, a top student, applying to the Mechanics Bureau? That should’ve been a sure thing.”

Lu Chen had chosen the Mechanics Bureau because resources on Rust Planet were running thin on his treasure map. He wanted a job that paid more, to buy the last missing starship parts as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans—he would have to keep scavenging.

“Didn’t get in. Got reassigned to the Fifth Refinery.”

“What?”

“Happens all the time.”

“Damn it, someone must have taken your spot!”

Wang Tianlin seemed angrier than Lu Chen himself.

“I told you to give my mom a little money to open some doors for you. This would never have happened! How do you think I got my Star Defense acceptance? That’s just how society works—good jobs pass down through families.”

Wang Tianlin’s mother was a widow and a level-eighteen spirit warrior; before her injury, she had served in the Star Defense Force alongside his father.

As Lu Chen was her son’s classmate, she often asked him to repair spirit vessels, air conditioners, pipes… Anything broken, really.

With his cheat, Lu Chen was never fazed. He replied calmly, “It’s fine. The refinery’s not bad. When I’ve saved enough for a long-range ship, I’ll become an adventurer.”

Wang Tianlin was startled; he had never heard Lu Chen say this before.

“You’re joking, right? I’ve always dreamed of adventuring in the Pangu Corridor—they say it’s littered with treasures. But wanting and doing are worlds apart. Even with your top-tier mechanics talent and a level-nine physique—higher than mine—starfaring is deadly. Only the desperate become adventurers. Even living on Rust Planet, you’d live longer than as an adventurer. You’re not desperate yet! Why not come to my place? Honestly, my mom likes you—you know, that kind of like. She could definitely get you into the Mechanics Bureau… If only I had a sister to marry you to. If not, how about you call me brother, I call you dad—we’ll work it out.”

Lu Chen was speechless, and for a moment he considered the proposal.

Auntie had probably been quite pretty in her youth, but now she was almost as round as a ball, her years on the farm making her broad and powerful—a formidable presence.

But if there was one thing Lu Chen didn’t lack, it was a sense of security.

“You really don’t treat me like an outsider!”

Wang Tianlin grinned, half-joking, half-serious. “My mom’s worked hard alone. You’re good-looking, with talent in both physique and mechanics—prime potential. Just no background, a bit poor… My mom and I always had high hopes for you.”

Lu Chen understood—this was part jest, part comfort—so he laughed. “Scavenging pays better than you’d think; I’m close to having a full long-range ship.”

Wang Tianlin sensed he wasn’t joking. “Don’t. Starfaring is a team sport; for safety, you have to join the Adventurer’s Guild, and even then, there’s no guarantee. Just come stay with us, you don’t have to keep my mom company—she’ll still help you.”

Lu Chen thought to himself: I slaved over a cheat, paid the price of transmigration—wouldn’t it be a waste not to adventure?

His journey was not for love, but for the stars and the sea!

“Mm, I’ll think about it. Say hello to Auntie for me.”

“Alright, see you!”

Hanging up, Lu Chen had flown out of the acid rain zone.

He crossed the dusk, gliding gently into night.

Tonight, Rust Planet enjoyed a rare clear sky.

Lu Chen immediately opened the rear hatch, rotated the cockpit one hundred eighty degrees.

Now he could recline in the cockpit, gaze straight up at the stars, face to face with the Milky Way.

It reminded him of childhood, lying on the rooftop mat on summer nights, watching the stars…

Starlight, like colored sand, blanketed the sky.

The Pangu Corridor arched across the heavens, a mighty interstellar wall, as if pigments had been poured into a river, grand and magnificent—brushstrokes of the divine.

Just then—

A shooting star split the sky…

Should he make a wish?

As Lu Chen hesitated, the meteor grew larger and larger, soon revealing the burning outline of a starship.

With a thunderous roar, it angled down, plummeting toward Rust Planet.

“A runaway ship?”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed—it didn’t look right.

He quickly realized the ship’s trajectory matched almost exactly with his own flight path.

It was heading straight for the valley where he’d hidden his flying RV!

Worse, the hazard guide only warned of threats to his life, not to his property.

The Star Defense Force showed no response…

“It’s over!”