At 5:30 in the morning, Jiang City was still steeped in a light-blue morning mist. The eastern skyline was already suffused with the faintest tinge of orange-pink, as if soone had dipped their fingertip in the dawn’s glow and gently brushed it across the horizon.
The old district’s bluestone paths were still damp from the night before. At the mouth of the alley, a soy milk vendor had already set up a blue-and-white striped canvas awning. The iron wok was heated until scorching hot, and the milky-white soy milk simred inside, tiny bubbles frothing on its surface. The rising steam, carrying the rich aroma of soybeans, drifted through the morning mist toward the street corner.
The vendor, dressed in a gray cloth jacket, was using a long-handled ladle to scoop up soy milk, which made a soft SPLASH as he poured it into a coarse porcelain bowl. A few elderly people, out for their morning exercises, sat on small stools, cradling their bowls and sipping slowly. The puffs of their warm breath vanished instantly in the cool breeze.
Across the street, an old locust tree stretched out its gnarled branches. A few withered leaves still clung to the tips, swaying gently as they were pecked by early-rising sparrows.
A shoe repair stall was tucked away in the tree’s shadow. The owner, an old man wearing reading glasses, was slowly wiping the awls and spools of thread in his toolbox. In the morning light, the tal tools glead with a cold luster.
People began to gather at a nearby bus stop. Students in school uniforms, burdened by heavy backpacks, chattered away about the cartoons they had watched the night before.
Office workers in suits clutched folded umbrellas, occasionally raising a wrist to check their watches. Their leather shoes left faint, wet imprints on the damp pavent.
As the orange-pink on the skyline deepened into a golden red, the morning mist slowly dissipated. It was as if a play button had been pressed, and the city suddenly burst to life.
A street sprinkler truck drove slowly past, its speakers playing the lody of "Orchid Grass." The spray from its high-pressure nozzles arced through the air, and where the sunlight caught the mist, it shattered into tiny rainbows that fell upon the Chinese roses lining the road.
Dewdrops were shaken from the petals, landing on the cobblestone border of the flowerbed and kicking up minuscule splashes.
A long line had ford at the corner breakfast shop. Steam from the bamboo stears fogged the glass door, through which one could faintly see at and vegetable buns stacked high inside. The freshly stead buns glistened, promising a burst of savory broth with the first bite.
Traffic on the main road grew heavier. Private cars, buses, and food-delivery scooters proceeded in an orderly fashion down their respective lanes. The sounds of horns, engines, and the calls of the breakfast vendor wove together into a lively tapestry of daily life.
Shops along the road began to open, their rolling tal shutters rising with a series of CLATTERS. A clothing store employee positioned a mannequin by the entrance as the neon lights in the shop window slowly faded, replaced by the sunlight streaming through the glass.
The wooden door of the bookstore opened with a soft CREAK. The owner, cradling a stack of new books, set them on a display rack near the entrance. The gilt lettering on their spines sparkled in the sun.
By eight in the morning, the sun was high in the sky. Golden rays pierced the glass curtain walls of the office buildings, casting long patterns of light and shadow on the ground below.
In the plaza in front of an office building, a fountain danced to music. Jets of water shot high and low, and the falling spray dampened the surrounding lawn, releasing the scent of fresh grass and flowers into the air.
A few sanitation workers were sweeping the pavent, their orange uniforms standing out in the crowd. With synchronized movents, they swept fallen leaves and scraps of paper into their dustpans with a rhythmic SWISH.
Tourists stood before the sculpture in the center of the plaza, holding up their phones to take pictures. Children chased each other around its base, their laughter as crisp and clear as wind chis.
Amidst this bustling scene of everyday life, the figure of Qin Feng slowly materialized before the window of a small shop.
He had just stepped out of the Lord’s Hall of the Holy Empire in the Lord World. The stench of gunpowder and blood from the Plane Battlefield still clung to him. The hem of his golden cape seed to flutter on a phantom wind, and his fingertips could still imagine the icy chill of a Dragon Crystal and the unyielding weight of his armor.
But in the next mont, the cape and armor dissolved into fine motes of light, revealing a faded, light-blue shirt and jeans. His war boots transford into a pair of old canvas shoes that made a soft THUD as they landed on the stone pavent.
"Whew... It’s been a while. I’m finally back."
To be honest, Qin Feng hadn’t planned on returning to the Real World at all.
He knew, thanks to intelligence from the mad madam of the Delta Alliance, that the Lord Players of every nation except the Eagle Country Realm had declared war on the Hua Country Realm. They had even ford an elite force of Tier-3 Lord Players from all over the world.
His original plan was to quickly fortify the border regions of the Lord World. He was ant to be deploying the great legions of the Holy Empire near the enemy’s birth points. Then, the mont the Plane War officially began, he would launch a thunderous offensive. He’d give those stubborn foreigners an opening salvo they would never forget and utterly crush their ambitions of invasion.
However, plans change.
As the last Plane War was wrapping up, Qin Feng had stumbled upon a few stragglers. They were a handful of players with the suffix "Evil God Believers (Unblessed/Inactive)" attached to their nas. They didn’t look like much and had no real power, but they were clearly in league with other Evil God Players.
In particular, these guys seed to have a connection to that group of Evil God Players led by Zhao Chuan.
An idea struck Qin Feng. ’I’ve got so ti on my hands,’ he thought. ’Might as well do the world a favor by taking them out. Plus, I can rack up so Bloodthirsty Layers. What’s not to like?’
He imdiately hatched a plan, intentionally letting one of the Evil God Believers escape. Then, he activated Eye of the Hunter and locked on to the man as his target. This Divine Gift Talent could ignore all spatial barriers, pinpointing a target’s Plane coordinates at all tis and marking their movents in real-ti. It was like attaching an unbreakable tracking line to his "fish."
Reviews
All reviews (0)