Chapter 239: Chapter 243: Return
Zhou Ming stood in front of the mirror, silently observing his own reflection.
So clear, so real—if it weren’t for the cold, hard surface he felt when he reached out his hand, he might even doubt whether the person standing opposite him was truly “another self.”
After a long while, he tore his gaze away from the mirror and looked around at the vast darkness that surrounded him.
How big was this space? Could he walk endlessly outward into infinity? What was the nature of this dark realm? Why did it appear here, behind the door of The Displaced? What connection did the door of The Displaced in Subspace have with the real-world door of The Displaced? And most importantly…
What were those texts that erged from the darkness?
Zhou Ming moved away from the mirror, and as he left, the mirror quietly dissolved, and the figure within it also disappeared into the darkness. As he walked, more pale texts erged from the darkness—describing everything related to him.
...
Like an extrely detailed personal archive… recorded in a vital database, the purpose of which remained unknown.
Zhou Ming felt that his power of association was becoming inadequate—he tried to find a set of reasonable explanations for everything he had seen but found that no matter the theories, they all seed like a pile of wild and pure fantasy in the end.
He even began to feel that there was an “apocalyptic shelter plan,” and that he was the one who had sought refuge in it without any awareness of it; his bachelor’s apartnt was his protective fortress, and these texts erging in the dark space were the registration docunts before entering the shelter…
In the darkness, his thoughts flowed uncontrollably, but after an undefined amount of ti, he suddenly gathered all his wild speculations.
“… I’ve wasted enough ti.”
He murmured softly.
There were no more clues here, only illusions capable of shaking one’s mind—whether this dark space truly harbored great secrets, or it was just another plot and lure of Subspace, he shouldn’t linger here obsessing over it.
Zhou Ming took a light breath, allowing his thoughts to settle, and then decided to conduct one last test and exploration of the dark space before leaving.
He walked towards the distance, cautiously and carefully distancing himself from the door.
More texts erged at his feet—similar in content to what he’d seen before, only more detailed and formal, appearing more like registration information used in official scenarios.
While noting these texts, Zhou Ming occasionally looked back to check his distance from the door and to confirm that he had not lost his way in the darkness.
He beca more and more cautious, eventually taking steps that advanced only a dozen centiters at a ti.
Suddenly, he noticed a change in the texts that erged under his feet—
“The situation of $#!… *% is @#?”
“Approximately between 355 and *&, there might exist &… *% of %&…”
The words began to get chaotic, the sentences beca strange and incomprehensible, the once clear and smooth records turned into sothing unreadable.
Zhou Ming was stirred, but he did not stop moving forward, just more carefully, and as he continued towards the edge of darkness, even more texts erged.
They beca increasingly bizarre and chaotic, and the frequency of chaos rose exponentially. At first, he still saw aningful words in every sentence, but it quickly beca to the point where not a single word appeared in several sentences. Eventually, he couldn’t even see those “garbled” codes.
No longer were texts and symbols erging from the darkness, but a series of twisted, jumping lines, chaotic, restless dots, and even trembling projections that nearly defied geotric principles.
As he walked forward, the chaotic lights and shadows that human cognition found difficult to understand appeared like reflections of sothing indescribable on the edge of the universe, forming a path extending forward beneath his feet.
Finally, even the chaotic, jumping lines and dots disappeared, and nothing new appeared.
Zhou Ming imdiately stopped walking.
He had not lost his sanity, not succumbed to the continuous exploration towards the unknown.
He turned back, and the door from which he’d co was now almost a vague point of light, yet still stood quietly in the darkness.
Zhou Ming decisively turned back—regardless of what still lay in the depths of darkness, the mont the information at his feet reached its end, he knew he could not continue forward.
He returned faster than he had arrived, and in no ti at all, he crossed the vast emptiness of darkness and ca back to the door leading to the Holoss, “The Displaced’s Door.”
Placing his hand on the door, the solid feel reassured Zhou Ming after his lengthy exploration in darkness, and after taking a light breath, he stepped through the door.
The cool sea breeze blew head on, and Duncan was montarily disoriented by the sudden appearance of bright Sky Light. It was only after a few tenths of a second’s delay that the gentle sway beneath his feet and the sound of waves slapping against the hull registered in his awareness—perhaps after spending too long in a silent place, the sudden onslaught of waves sounded almost like thunder.
Duncan suddenly froze.
He confird his surroundings and saw the familiar Holoss, the familiar Endless Sea, and the sun, bound by double runes, hanging in the sky.
He had returned to the reality dinsion.
This unexpected situation left him sowhat stunned, because just a second before stepping through the door from that dark place, he had been pondering how to continue exploring the “ruined Holoss” in search of a way back ho. He hadn’t anticipated that stepping through that door would bring him directly back to reality… What was the rule governing this?
To return from the “ruined Holoss” that presumably lay in Subspace to the reality dinsion, did one only need to pass through the Displaced’s Door as a transition point?
He turned his head thoughtfully and saw that he was standing in front of the captain’s quarters and that the Displaced’s Door stood quietly in the sunlight, its few words engraved on the fra shining under the Sky Light.
Duncan’s thoughts sprang to life.
There were many doors on Holoss, but only three were special: the first was the “Displaced’s Door”, the second was the gloomy wooden door deep in the cabin that led to the lower decks, labelled “The Final Door,” and the third was the towering door standing inexplicably in the center of the hold, connecting Subspace with the reality dinsion, perhaps aptly nad the “Subspace Door.”
On the “ruined Holoss,” whether it was the “The Final Door” that led to the hold or that “Subspace Door”, their markings had been wiped from the fra, yet the “Displaced’s Door” before the captain’s room maintained the exact sa appearance whether in reality or in Subspace.
Now it seed that this “consistency” might have denoted the true “exit” from the start!
With a budding answer in his heart, Duncan breathed a sigh of relief and then pushed open the door to the captain’s quarters.
After crossing the threshold, he confird that the other side was not shrouded in darkness but was his own bachelor apartnt—everything was normal inside.
Then he returned to the ship and pulled open the door to the captain’s quarters again.
The familiar chart room, the familiar refined furnishings, the familiar desk, and the familiar goat head on the desk.
For the first ti in his life, upon seeing the goat head still properly placed on the desk, he felt a sense of solid grounding.
Upon hearing the noise at the door, the goat head imdiately turned its head, its neck causing a squeaky and creaky wood friction sound, “Na?”
“Duncan Ebnomal, it’s , I’m back,” said Duncan imdiately. He had guessed that the goat head would ask for confirmation—he expected that it could sense whether he had left Holoss and might even be able to detect so kind of “change” in him. This “na confirmation” seed sowhat arbitrary, but it seed to follow a hidden logic, “I’ve been to a faraway place.”
“Ah, Captain! You have finally returned!” The goat head imdiately let out an over-the-top and eager voice. It was as noisy as ever. “You suddenly left the ship entirely, and I was truly startled! When you roam the Spirit Realm, at least you leave your shell here! But just now, all traces of your presence had vanished… And now you’re back from the deck? Where did you go?”
All traces vanished? Left the ship completely?
Duncan’s gaze subtly shifted.
He had indeed entered that place, suspected of being Subspace, with his physical body, not just a “conscious projection” as he had initially thought!
He lifted his head and looked into the black, dead eyes of the goat head, hesitating slightly before he spoke, “Don’t get scared when I tell you.”
“Ah, don’t worry, your first mate is not only loyal and brave but also brave and loy—”
“I went to Subspace.”
The goat head: “…?!”
After a full half-minute, the creature suddenly snapped, its neck almost twisting, “Cap… Cap… Captain?! You’re saying you…”
“I went to Subspace, if I’m not mistaken,” Duncan said while walking into the captain’s room and casually picking up the lantern from the shelf beside, “Just wait for a mont.”
With that, he didn’t wait for the goat head to reply and left the captain’s room with the lantern, then hurriedly passed through the deck and layer upon layer of cabins, heading straight for the lowest level of Holoss.
He passed through “The Final Door” and arrived at the fragnted lower decks.
The seams of the hull at the bottom were still cast in murky confusion, with limited visibility that didn’t reveal much detail—only the chaotic play of light and shadow and occasional flashes jumping and flowing in the darkness.
And the most dangerous “Subspace Door” stood silently in the center of the hold.
The door was tightly closed, without the slightest crack.
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