My Professions Have Too Much Personality

’This situation is much worse than I imagined.’

Su Chen mused to himself. The current Star Seed list only had twenty-two people on it.

Besides him, there were nine others who had become chosen candidates for a Morning Star Tier profession but had never appeared on the Talent rankings.

The Spiritual requirements for a Morning Star Tier profession were bizarre and varied. Talent was one factor, but not the decisive one.

Moreover, some with high Talent were simply born a few years too late. All the spots had been taken, and no matter how great their Talent, they could only lament their misfortune.

Imagine someone with a Dual Divine Dawn Talent, frustrated that despite their superior aptitude, they were stuck at Tier Nine.

Then they suddenly see someone with a Dual Ink Jade Talent pop out of some obscure corner and become a chosen candidate for the Morning Star Tier.

Leaving everything else aside, the difference in Talent alone was four whole levels. That kind of psychological shock…

Su Chen put himself in their shoes and thought about it. He definitely wouldn’t be able to accept it either. Not resorting to some underhanded scheme would already be a sign of great magnanimity.

This was the kind of natural enmity that came from blocking someone’s path. Once you became a chosen one, you were destined to be targeted by many.

Of the twenty-two Star Seeds, a number that now included him, sixteen were completely claimed by the Five Great Sects and the Royal Court. Another five were scattered among the various greater and lesser powers of the Dust Star Sea.

But those who managed to hold onto their Star Seed slots were, more or less, also connected to the Sects or the Royal Court.

This led to another problem: once many of the Star Seeds were chosen, it was very difficult to change the selection under normal circumstances due to the intricate relationships behind them.

One could only imagine how much attention he, a Star Seed who had appeared out of nowhere, was attracting, and how many people were grinding their teeth in the shadows.

The thought made Su Chen shudder. He had no idea how these Morning Star Tier professions even came into existence, but this characteristic of being unique was just too good at breeding resentment.

He turned and asked Lan Hao, who was beside him.

“How are Morning Star Tiers born?” Lan Hao was slightly taken aback by Su Chen’s question. “How are they born…”

The three of them had reached the first floor. Pairs of faint, probing gazes swept over them from all directions, filled with scrutiny, curiosity, greed, and envy…

Lan Hao frowned, recalling, “It seems that every powerful Life Star has the potential to give birth to a Morning Star Tier profession, but it requires all sorts of specific conditions.”

“I’m not too clear on the details either. In any case, it’s been a long time since a ’wild’ Morning Star Tier has appeared in the Dust Star Sea.”

’Wild…’ Su Chen was a bit speechless when he heard that word. The attendant following behind them lowered his voice and said, “The birth of a Morning Star Tier requires heavenly timing, an advantageous location, and the right people—only then is it possible.”

“One of the conditions is the sacrifice of a Professional who has developed a Double Ninth Tier to its absolute peak.”

This didn’t seem to be a secret, as the attendant explained it simply.

“It needs a sacrifice…” Su Chen was shocked. A Double Ninth Tier was already formidable. Even if they couldn’t compare to a Morning Star Tier, they were still high-level figures within powers like the Royal Court and the Sects.

To need such a person as a sacrifice…

“Then how are ordinary professions born?” Su Chen thought for a moment and asked again, his curiosity piqued.

Ying Feng didn’t have an answer to this question.

“That’s more complicated,” the attendant said with a helpless tone. “I can only say they have existed since ancient times. If you wish to know more, you’ll have to consult various information archives in detail.”

His helpless expression practically spelled out two words: Pay up.

Su Chen was speechless. He changed the subject, asking if there were any omissions from the Star Seed list.

The attendant shook his head. “That’s almost impossible. The requirements for becoming a chosen one aren’t fixed. Even for the same Spiritual profession, there might be differences between two successive chosen ones.”

“A suitable candidate can only be found through a massive selection process. The number of people who meet the basic age and Talent requirements can easily reach the tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands, all hailing from different parts of a faction’s territory. Such a large-scale operation is difficult to conceal, even for the Royal Court.”

Su Chen had a sudden realization. No wonder the information on the people on the Star Seed list was so detailed.

Lan Hao, however, had his brows tightly knitted, and the hair on his body was standing on end. The people in this hall were all hardened characters who lived on the edge. The faint, constant stares made him extremely uncomfortable.

The attendant escorted them to the door and gave another low-voiced reminder, “Your Excellency is receiving no small amount of attention. It would be best not to linger outside for too long.”

“Thank you for the warning.” Su Chen was surprised, but he offered his thanks and pushed the door open to leave.

In that instant, countless gazes converged on him, only to shift away again.

A large crowd had gathered in front of the Prophet Council, scattered about—leaning against walls, hidden in shadows, chatting with companions, or locked in embraces.

Yet, everyone’s attention was faintly, almost imperceptibly, fixed on Su Chen. The strange sensation gave Lan Hao goosebumps.

’These guys all look like they want to eat me alive,’ Su Chen muttered to himself, scanning his surroundings.

’My dear Senior Brother Qing Cang, you are following me, right?’

“How could this be?” Lan Hao also realized something was wrong. Not daring to make any sudden moves, he carefully activated his personal smart terminal, projecting a holographic screen.

After a series of operations on it, his expression immediately changed to one of shock. “This…”

Su Chen noticed the commotion and glanced over out of the corner of his eye. Lan Hao seemed to have logged into a dark-net site. In the top-left corner was a line of large, Crimson text: “Unofficial Channel. Login Prohibited. Browse Only.”

And there, in the center of the page, was a photo of him. He didn’t know when it had been taken; his hair was messy, but his face was clear.

Below it was a long string of zeros, preceded by a 3.

“Is this a bounty?” Su Chen guessed. Lan Hao swallowed hard, his hair standing on end, looking like he wanted to bolt. “Three billion Star Coins! No wonder these people look like they want to eat you alive.”

Star Coins were the universal currency of the Dust Star Sea, jointly endorsed and circulated by the Royal Court and the Five Great Sects.