Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Bang!
Roland fiercely shut the door and took a deep breath.
The Snow that adhered to him quickly melted into water.
Although he had long understood that dreams were variable, this scene still shocked him.
Roland walked to the window of the lumber-room and looked out to check the outer wall. The wall was flat and neat without even a trace of being inlaid a door or repaired.
In other words, the door was inlaid into the wall while the apartment was
finished
, rather than being built in afterwards.
So… was the door only in room 0825, or in every flat?
If the door was also built into other flats, what kind of scene did they have and where did they lead to?
Roland felt excited about this idea.
He returned to his bedroom and rummaged through the wardrobe before slipping on a set of winter clothes. The dilapidated coat he picked looked like it had lost most of its feathers and the wool in the knitted scarf was forked, but since he did not have a better choice at this moment, he had to get accustomed to them.
It was a hot summer day, after he put on the warm clothes, Roland felt he was surrounded by stoves, sweating profusely, his body temperature soaring.
Once again he walked close to the iron door. He kicked off the flip-flops and replaced them with a pair of green leather shoes before pushing open the door and stepping out.
The moment he entered the snow world, the cold wind howled through the gaps of his collar and cuffs and drilled into his body. When the cold wind met the hot sweats on his skin, he felt extremely icy cold and could not help sneezing.
Wait, if I keep this door open, does it mean that I’ll have an air conditioner that costs no power?
Roland thought.
He wondered what Zero would think this scene.
Roland rubbed his nose and looked back. The door looked like it was connected with a basement that was half buried in the slope. There were many similar low storehouses around this area which were obviously built by farmers or merchants who lived outside the city. But Roland noticed that these storehouses were unguarded, as if the entire campsite was abandoned.
However, what really marveled Roland was the scene that was hundreds of meters away from the slope.
He saw a clear boundary of this world.
As far as he could see, the snow slope was abruptly cut in the middle while spall floated in the mid-air as if they had become weightless. Violent cyclones and endless darkness took place in that space. Occasionally a bolt of scarlet lightning crackled through the sky, illuminating the border area, and even so, the darkness stretched out beyond what he could see.
This scene was appalling but extraordinarily magnificent. If he could put words on it, it was like a lonely island floating in the void. The boundary had spread along the mountain land until it disappeared in the snowstorm. Undoubtedly, there must be another similar boundary on the other side of Holy City, but it was too far away for him to see it now.
Was this the memory fragment that remained in Zero’s mind?
Roland did not dare go near the boundary to see through it. Both the violent wind that ripped the spall and the lightning that crackled the sky were dangers to him. He also did not immediately move towards Holy City. Overlooking from here, he estimated that it would take him at least half an hour to reach the city. It would take longer if he had to wade through the ankle-deep snow. He needed sufficient preparation.
After that, Roland wandered through this suburban campsite.
He could not find anything alive, whether in half-buried storehouses, dwelling houses or tents. All of the people just seemed as if they had vanished.
It was somewhat like the Soul Battlefield for him, nothing more than a stage built with memory.
Accordingly, Holy City should be unmanned as well.
Although there was no trace of life around, the storehouses were well filled, like a freeze-frame of the memory from when it was spun off.
Those fresh grapes in Roland’s hand would be an example to illustrate his point.
Roland found them in the small basement next door. The iron lock on the door could not stop him. He simply twisted off the lock and the bolt with a wrench he found in the house. There was plenty of food in it, like cured jerky, fillets, wheat, and even a small half-box of grapes.
The grapes looked very fresh. They must have been carried from the old Holy City beneath the plateau. When Roland put one into his mouth, he could still taste its cool sweetness.
His biggest gain was a small iron box he had found in a hidden compartment in the basement. It was not because of his careful searching but simply because it had opened when he entered the basement. An oil lamp was lit beside it, as if someone abruptly vanished at the moment he was putting things into the compartment. The compartment was left open, revealing the half-hidden iron box.
The box contained over 10 gold royals and several translucent gemstones that were clearly of high quality. Roland pocketed all of them without hesitation.
After he confirmed the things in the memory fragment could be taken into his flat, he got busy at once.
After two hours of hard work in the snow ground, Roland moved anything valuable into his house. It included lots of food and several armaments, such as armor, short swords, and crossbows. The former would save on the expense of food while the latter might be worth some money if he sold them online.
Roland kept carrying things from the campsite into the lumber-room until the room was filled. After that, he had no choice but to lock the door with reluctance.
He felt so good after picking up so many things for free.
He could not hold back laughing when he thought there was a whole Holy City for him to plunder.
The wealth of the whole city would probably make him rich overnight. Living expenses were absolutely no problem for him now.
Roland was panting as he took off his clothes. When he was about to go and have some water, a turn of sharp dizziness suddenly struck him.
What’s going on?
He stumbled towards the tea table. But before he made it, he felt his field of view turn upside down, followed by a bang and then darkness took him.
…
When Roland woke up again, he found himself in his bedroom lying on the bed, aching all over as if he had been through a marathon.
The night had enshrouded the city outside the blinds, indicating that he had been asleep for more than one or two hours.
Roland thought that it was probably because of his overtiredness, as well as the heatstroke caused by the alternate strike of coldness and heat. And that he probably should have caught some sleep before his labor.
But to his surprise, he did not feel much feeble at this moment. Instead, he was full of energy and so he disregarded the ache. It seemed as if a warm current was running through his body over and over again, causing his sense of touch to be super acute.
That was when Roland sensed a faint breath near his pillow.
He turned his head slightly and found Zero who was leaning beside him.
She was holding a wet towel, half her cheeks illuminated by moonlight, her eyelashes trembling slightly, her back moving up and down along with her breath.
Probably because the room was excessively sweltering, her dress was soaked and her arms covered with fine beads of sweat, sending out a unique aroma.
Roland knew that it must be the little girl who dragged him from the living room into the bedroom. Moreover, she tried the basic way to cool him down. He smacked his lips and could still taste the residual of the patchouli liquid in his mouth.
How did she manage to pour the liquid in?
thought Roland.
Roland shook his head with resignation at the sight of Zero who slept defenselessly. He got up quietly and carried her to the bed. After that, he walked softly back to the living room. Zero who cared so much about the tidiness of her bedroom must have been unwilling to go to her own bed before taking a bath. He just simply left her on his bed.
Anyway, it was dirty enough.
Lying on the couch, he noticed that the ache was fading and that he could increasingly sense the warm current in his body.
Roland realized that it was not an illusion.
But something hard to describe.
He dug into his trouser pocket for a gold royal that he had brought out from the memory fragment and held it in his palm.
He willed the warm current to gather in his palm.
Roland clenched his fist, and when he unclenched it, the gold royal had been folded into a half-moon shape.
