Chapter 1649: Terror – Agent Lin Sanjiu

While Yu Yuan was still lost in Xie Feng’s memories, and the whereabouts of the grand prize remained unknown, Lin Sanjiu had already managed to pry open a corner of this strange s.p.a.ce’s veil, using a method akin to that of a terrorist.

With the help of a few humanoid items, she struggled to move the trigger point of the bookstore memory—the old shopkeeper—near the trigger point of the Celestial Park. Her plan was to disrupt the functioning of this s.p.a.ce and create chaos, and she indeed got the chaos she desired.

As the bookstore’s memory territory came hurtling toward the Celestial Park like a fallen celestial body, even Lin Sanjiu found herself momentarily overwhelmed.

“Get back here!” she shouted urgently to the humanoid items. It took only a brief glance at the Life Coach, and when she turned her gaze back, the Twelve Worlds Centrum shopping street was already closing in by half the distance it had been moments before.

Clearly, something had gone very wrong.

The entire street scene had begun to spin and distort, as if rendered with computer effects. Some of the shops warped together, forming part of a swirling vortex, while others stood stubbornly upright, protruding like foreign objects that had torn through the skin of this world. Even before the collision, just looking at it made Lin Sanjiu’s scalp tingle.

At this critical moment, the humanoid items proved to be even quicker and more alert than she was. One after another, they collided with her outstretched hand and immediately transformed into cards—the Life Coach included.

How had the Life Coach returned so quickly? Wasn’t he just up in the air a moment ago?

Lin Sanjiu realized this and paused in surprise. When she looked up again, her frustration surged; she wanted to curse someone out so badly. In his panic to escape, the Life Coach must have leapt off without a second thought, leaving behind the expensive flying vehicle she’d bought. There was no time to retrieve it now.

With the Twelve Worlds Centrum street about to crash into the Celestial Park, Lin Sanjiu turned on her heel and bolted.

“You owe me a flying vehicle!” she shouted, even though the Life Coach couldn’t hear her as a card.

The Celestial Park must still connect to other memory territories. If she could escape the impact zone before the collision’s effects spread, and make it into another territory, she might avoid disaster.

Lin Sanjiu ran so fast it felt like even the air couldn’t keep up, leaving her on the verge of gasping for breath. Her heavy, labored breathing became unnaturally loud after a few more breaths. The expected sound of a cataclysmic collision never came; instead, every step she took seemed to plunge into a rapidly solidifying silence.

Near the entrance of the Celestial Park, she slowed down, glancing back. She stumbled and quickly halted in her tracks.

In the distance, the Celestial Park appeared like a giant photograph printed on soft fabric, bulging where the incoming Twelve Worlds Centrum street had pushed against it.

At the junction of the two, a shop with a sign reading “Sharpening, Leasing, External Services” was twisted grotesquely against the pale blue sky of the Celestial Park. It wasn’t clear if it was an illusion, but the shop’s edges and sign seemed to grow sharper, as if they were determined to puncture the fabric of the park.

“What… what’s happening here?” Lin Sanjiu muttered, knowing there would be no response.

In the silence, the Twelve Worlds Centrum street gave a small twist, like a living being realizing its hand was caught and trying to shake it free. It failed to break free, but the Celestial Park suddenly “poured” in the direction of the struggle, releasing a large section. Several tourists were stretched into two-meter-wide slivers, yet they still tried to continue along their original paths.

Lin Sanjiu had seen her share of b.l.o.o.d.y, bizarre, or awe-inspiring sights, but this… this was different. It was wrong in a way she rarely encountered.

Instinctively, she summoned the Life Coach again. Whether it was for moral support or simply to have someone to talk to, having a companion who could speak always made a person feel a bit steadier.

The Life Coach looked a little stunned when he appeared.

“Hey… it feels like we’re moving,” he said, giving Lin Sanjiu’s arm a tug. “Look behind us.”

Lin Sanjiu turned to look in the direction he was pointing and understood what he meant. Not far beyond the gates of the Celestial Park lay another memory territory. Now, however, a thick gray mist was rising from the gap between the two memory territories, billowing up and growing denser, indicating that the distance between the two territories was widening.

She looked ahead again and saw that the Twelve Worlds Centrum street was still tightly intertwined with the Celestial Park.

“So this means… we and the Twelve Worlds Centrum territory are moving together?” Lin Sanjiu said. “Where are we headed?”

She knew she wouldn’t get an answer to that question until the two memory territories finally stopped moving.

“The Celestial Park and the Twelve Worlds Centrum street were soon surrounded by the gray mist,” Lin Sanjiu said, sitting beside Yu Yuan as she recounted the events. “All the other memory territories that were once connected to them started peeling away, one by one. Only these two remained twisted together. After drifting through the ocean of gray mist for a while, I came across something completely unexpected.”

Yu Yuan remained impa.s.sive, refusing to take the bait. He just waited for her to continue.

If not for the damp tissues still lying on the ground, Lin Sanjiu would have found it hard to believe she’d seen Yu Yuan cry—not the kind of crying where one’s face flushes red and contorts with pain. When he cried, his expression didn’t change at all; tears just kept streaming down, as if his primary emotion was not sadness but bewilderment.

‘But how could a Veda feel bewildered?’ Lin Sanjiu sighed inwardly.

“It was Exodus,” she said with a smile, looking at Yu Yuan. “Incredible, right? It was floating between two buildings. I know it should have been far too large to fit between them, but there it was… like some sort of optical illusion.”

What she saw before her was a busy, vibrant corner of a city: towering skysc.r.a.pers, crowds bustling back and forth, cars lining the streets. The narrow alleyways between old residential buildings were choked with vegetable stalls, trash bins, and people carrying groceries. Large, colorful graffiti covered the building walls like tattoos—some freshly painted, others faded.

Amidst this lively, everyday scene, the huge white ring-shaped s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p Exodus floated silently between the residential buildings. A woman with a head full of curlers opened a window nearby and lit a cigarette.

Lin Sanjiu had seen many similar cities in worlds where humanity hadn’t yet met its end, but she was certain she had never visited this particular memory territory before.

After she and Yu Yuan had left the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, Exodus should have been piloted by the grand prize. Since she was now seeing the s.h.i.+p here, it meant that, as she suspected, the grand prize had followed her into this strange s.p.a.ce as well. Could he be somewhere in the city ahead?

No, that didn’t seem right.

“Get into the card inventory, now!”

Realizing the danger, she grabbed the Life Coach, who was still mumbling in protest, reluctant to leave. It seemed he wanted to stay and figure out what was happening. Lin Sanjiu smacked him on the forehead, and he instantly transformed into a silent card. She herself then sprinted toward the flying vehicle below, performing a series of flips and leaps, using the floating debris of tiny planetoids as footholds. In a swift movement, she hooked herself onto the craft with her Higher Consciousness and quickly climbed inside.

Lin Sanjiu turned the flying vehicle halfway around, and as soon as she hid behind the orange-red planet, she realized that the Celestial Park had come to a stop.

She quietly opened the door of the craft and lay flat on the wing, peering out over the planet’s edge while casting out a [Higher Consciousness Scan].

The city not far away looked like someone had hit the pause b.u.t.ton; everything had frozen.

A pedestrian’s foot was suspended mid-step, stuck in mid-air; the woman leaning out of her window for a smoke was caught in place, the white plume of smoke hanging in the air like a shroud over her face, no longer dispersing.

Why had she been brought here, and why had the s.p.a.ce in front of her suddenly stopped “running”? Lin Sanjiu had no idea. All she could do was watch in silence, holding her breath, feeling as though she were on the verge of uncovering the truth of this s.p.a.ce, though she had no idea what that truth might be.

After about half a minute, a faint, muddled noise broke the absolute silence of the air. It sounded like the dragging footsteps of someone wearing slippers, shuffling along the stone pavement, slow and sloppy.

With each sound of approaching footsteps, Lin Sanjiu’s anxiety tightened

Amid the frozen crowd packed into the narrow alley, a single moving figure stood out like a sore thumb.

When she finally got a good look at the approaching person, she found herself momentarily taken aback. She had imagined many different scenarios, but she hadn’t expected the person walking out to be so… ordinary.

It was obvious the man was a posthuman, but from her [Higher Consciousness Scan], he didn’t seem particularly powerful—more like the kind of average Joe you might find anywhere along the streets of the Twelve Worlds Centrum. He looked to be in his thirties, with slightly sallow skin and a somewhat pleasant face. He wore flip-flops, baggy shorts, and a cotton tank top, with a rolled-up magazine tucked under his arm.

He looked just like a man who’d finished his dinner and was now lounging outdoors, reading a tabloid magazine for fun. Lin Sanjiu couldn’t think of anyone who fit the description of a “laid-back loafer” more than this guy.

“What… what’s going on here? How did it end up like this?” the man said, looking up at the two twisted memory territories, clearly annoyed. “Hey, is anyone here?” He even called out.

‘Who’s going to answer you?’

Lin Sanjiu held her breath, imagining herself as lifeless as a corpse. She was waiting for the man to step inside; as soon as he did, she planned to spring out and subdue him by force.

Unexpectedly, the man stopped right at the boundary between the two memory territories.

He scratched his head and, instead of moving forward, squatted down on the spot. He pulled out the magazine from under his arm—its cover screaming headlines like “Three Miscarriages? Wealthy Mistress Faces Dumping!”—and started flipping through it, page by page.