Precepts were ubiquitous. They were ingrained in all aspects of everyone's lives.
No wonder they had said that the Chains of Rule were the root of everything on Earth.
A hint of understanding appeared in Dumby's eyes.
It thought, "In that case, my precept is probably…"
Dumby remembered the warning that Fatty Big Sea had given it a few days earlier. "Don't casually and recklessly choose precepts. You can choose precepts, and precepts can also choose you. If you're not suited for a type of precept but you want to forcefully possess it… you'll be in for a hard time."
After muttering to itself for some time, Dumby looked at the little speck of gray light on its fingertip. It aimed at the void and pulled, grasping and grabbing.
In Dumby's and Fatty Big Sea's eyes, Dumby had grabbed a gray chain.
This gray chain was entirely dull in color and luster. There were various types of mysterious symbols engraved on its surface.