TBR CH182

In an instant, everything was plunged into darkness. Roland leaned down, his fingers fumbling for the power button on the computer tower, pressing it repeatedly. His fingers were cold and dry. The machine showed no response.

It was as if a rain cloud had suddenly drifted across the sky. At that moment, he heard the sound of rain.

The rain intensified from a faint drizzle to a heavy downpour in just a few seconds, but the dampness, a precursor, had arrived in Lichiang City much earlier. The computer screen in front of him still retained residual heat; the motor, deprived of power, gave a faint sizzle, then finally succumbed, falling silent. The young man abruptly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair. The chair legs scraped the floor with a harsh creak that couldn’t mask the clamor from downstairs.

The dozens of machines at “Zero Distance Internet Cafe” had, of course, all gone on strike.

His phone screen suddenly lit up, displaying a message from the Lichiang City government:

“Due to power grid failure caused by sudden rainfall, three central districts of Lichiang City have experienced unexpected power outages of varying scales. Core personnel have been mobilized for emergency repairs, and government departments will minimize the impact of the incident—”

The usually rational Archmage saw his own eyes reflected in the screen’s glare. He slowly drew a sharp breath, realizing he was far from calm at that moment. He wasn’t sure how he heard his heartbeat; it certainly wasn’t with his ears. Perhaps his heartbeat strangely traversed his throat, tightening it, crossed his blood vessels, stiffening his limbs, and finally spread throughout his entire body.

He prayed that his disappearance wouldn’t be as similar as that day ten years ago.

The link between the two worlds was as fragile as a pale flame, and at this moment, its cruelty was finally exposed. Like a large, mottled, and ugly hole in the wall, since concealment was useless, people tried to hurry past it without mentioning it. Roland saw it very clearly, and so he likewise tried not to mention it to Kriesmeier.

However, even the slightest breeze could extinguish the flame.

What to do? Roland thought. He tried his best to extinguish the burning part of his mind, preferably making it as cold as ice, so he could think. How? How? His phone screen was the only light source in the room. The Black Book occupied it, further dimming the light by more than half, even though it had no solution either.

“I can barely find the port connecting the two worlds,”

The text on the screen read, “But there must be enough medium to run all of this. Without a carrier, even the system would be helpless. I’m truly sorry—”

“Kriesmeier is still there.”

Roland gripped the edge of the table. He spoke slowly, his voice hitting the ground like stones.

His companion was abandoned by him in another world, like a nightmare from the past replayed.

The Black Book knew full well that this was an extremely bad situation.

Because no matter how much a human might promise, that demon’s heart still held an extremely unstable potential.

Since he had not yet believed Roland’s explanation, any form of separation had a probability of triggering his stress. A deranged Demon King would make Roland regret bringing him into the Elf Forest, and all dealings would naturally fail…

Roland turned his eyes, and the Black Book suddenly felt a shiver down its spine, because the Archmage’s amber pupils took on a dim hue in the darkness, even resembling a predator’s vertical pupils, like the Demon King’s.

“In this situation, doubt seems easiest,”

Roland paused, then reached for his phone, and quickly walked downstairs with it.

“Kries will be in great pain. I’m not so optimistic as to believe that the Demon King accepted everything I said well. If I can’t appear in time, things will definitely get messed up to some extent. But—whether rationally or instinctively, that won’t be Kriesmeier’s part.”

The human’s steps were as light as a cat’s. He quickly merged into the darkness of the internet cafe’s first floor. He walked through what was uniquely a modern graveyard formed by a field of now-inactive computers, like passing countless closed eyes.

Only in one spot, he suddenly turned his head.

In the hazy darkness, the silver-haired Demon King in the poster held a giant scythe, silently meeting his gaze.

—How obscure, yet how extraordinary, the hints of fate were.

It was then that the Black Book finally understood what the young man’s expression meant. “Kriesmeier is still there,” this fact did not signify an impending disaster, nor was the Demon King’s name a prophecy of doom. On the contrary, Roland’s inexplicable will firmly believed that in his absence, Kriesmeier was the only existence that could hold out for a while.

“I know he wouldn’t do that.”

The Archmage had never shown such an expression before. “I understand Kries better than anyone. He doesn’t trust me; he absolutely intends to kill me. Precisely because of this, I know I can trust him. As long as he’s there—”

He stopped at the front desk, muttering:

“But it’s precisely because I think this way that I feel so much pain.”

At the internet cafe’s front desk, customers frustratingly gave up their night plans and eagerly left before the rain grew heavier.

Further away, there were occasional, discontinuous patches of light. The internet cafe owner, Shan Sheng, was trying to dig out a charging desk lamp from a cabinet, when he was startled by the young man who suddenly appeared behind him. The young man’s face was extraordinarily pale in the darkness, but his amber eyes shone brightly like will-o’-the-wisps. He quietly asked:

“Uncle Shan, isn’t the front desk computer equipped with a UPS?”

The front desk desktop computer wasn’t a very new model; its primary purpose was to process customer login data.

However, it was the only machine in the internet cafe equipped with a UPS.

UPS, short for “Uninterruptible Power Supply.” Shan Sheng had done a lot of research a few years ago when he decided to get into this business, and spent a large sum of money to buy this instrument, only for it to gather dust. After all, power outages were extremely rare emergencies. Most of the time, it sat quietly in the corner of the front desk, unused for who knows how long, so much so that Shan Sheng almost forgot about it.

“Xiao Luo,”

The middle-aged man’s expression was clearly dejected. “Well, I wanted to use it too, but I’m just not used to it. Look, the machine is still on, which should mean it automatically backed up data. Some customers have already swiped their cards and left; these are the default functions. If you want to use it, Uncle will try to adjust it for you, but it won’t last very long.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it myself.”

For some reason, the young man’s expression conveyed a sense of conviction.

Roland had been at the front desk these past few days. Precisely because of this, he was very clear about what he could do now.

—Given the Archmage’s personality, after having suffered a setback with a car, he would absolutely not allow any machine he didn’t know how to use to exist within his field of vision.

Midnight, 12 AM, Lichiang City Vocational Technical College dormitory.

“No,” Shan Bin couldn’t understand. He poked his head out from under his blanket. “It’s so late, is there something that absolutely requires a computer? And even if you need to use it, a pre-charged power bank could last for a while, right?”

“The problem is there’s no power right now—”

Bai Shi closed his mouth irritably, simultaneously mentally telling the system to cease any broadcasts. The sudden power outage plunged the dorm into darkness. His laptop in front of him was indeed still flickering, but its battery was critically low.

If only he had known, he wouldn’t have used it just now.

…Or at least remembered to plug it in.

He couldn’t explain the specific reason, because he always kept people at arm’s length. When it came to social interaction, no one in the dorm was willing to talk to him, and he couldn’t borrow equipment from others either.

He asked again, “Do any of you have a laptop power bank?” The replies were still unoptimistic.

“Isn’t that stuff for good students who live in the library? Why don’t you ask in the vocational school dorm group chat?”

Bai Shi had already sent a message, but no one replied. He originally planned to go and ask people in other dorms one by one, but there were also many petty delinquents in the vocational school. Being disturbed in the middle of the night, their words were naturally impolite, so Bai Shi, after trying two dorms, apologized profusely while cautiously abandoning the idea.

He hesitated, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms, and grabbed his bag, running downstairs.

He planned to take a taxi to the West District. The text message mentioned that the central areas of Lichiang City were experiencing power outages, so going to an internet cafe in the West District was the safest bet. However, as he splashed through the puddles on the road and hurried across the road in front of the university gate, he confirmed that the nearest accessible internet cafes had indeed closed down.

Just a little late, it should be fine.

This was the only thought remaining as Bai Shi squeezed into a car.

Kriesmeier tried to kill the black cat in the room.

Pale moonlight snaked down the window frame, gilding the ends of his silver-gray hair.

The Demon King knelt on the bed, extending his hand. Behind him, his wings spread like a spiderweb, sharp black feathers circling, forming a cage impossible to describe in words. He once again felt out of control. From a certain angle, the faded blood on his broken horn seemed about to drip downwards the next second.

The elven attendant hesitantly knocked on the door for the third time.

He carefully chose his words, his pointed ears drooping, trembling as he listened to the movements behind the door. However, there was silence behind the door: “Excuse me, is something happening?”

The moment his voice reached the Demon King’s ears, Kriesmeier had already reached the final step.

In the backlit shadow, he looked down at his hands with an emotionless face, seemingly trying hard to find any unwashed bloodstains on his knuckles. Since inheriting the scythe “Demon Eye,” he rarely personally ended an opponent’s life with his bare hands.

Kriesmeier leaned down, exerting all his strength to seize the black cat’s neck.

For the first time, the Demon King felt a cold dizziness slowly spreading from his stomach. He tightened his fingertips, as if truly squeezing the black cat’s warm, fleshy neck. For a moment, he felt the fluffy touch at his fingertips, and the instinct of life made the creature struggle, its faint breath hitting his palm so clearly.

He desperately kept his eyes open, his dark golden pupils reflecting the illusion he saw.

And when he closed his eyes, the image in front of him still lingered.

The black cat he saw had unknowingly transformed into the amber-eyed youth. The youth’s breathing gradually weakened, his eyes losing their luster, and death spread outwards from a small section of his skin. “Nova” crashed to the ground with a thud, the fragments of moonstone scattering with a crisp echo.

“Mr. Roland?”

The elven attendant listened with trepidation to the sound of smashing porcelain from inside the room.

This name finally shattered the tyrant’s dream, filled with bloodlust and dark desires. At that moment, the black cat Kriesmeier had tried to strangle suddenly vanished completely. Only a vast emptiness remained in his hands. His wings had not sharply cut the youth’s throat, but had knocked over a vase on the bedside table.

At that moment, the youth in the illusion suddenly opened his mocking eyes and smiled intimately at him.

“Admit it, you can’t even bear to kill me.”

He said, “How pathetic, Kries. No matter how hard you try, you are helpless against my departure.”

Kriesmeier slowly swallowed the words that tasted of rust. He silently withdrew his hand.

How long would Roland be gone?

A minute? A day? A year, or the ten years he had waited before?

Or even a hundred, a thousand years, and the forever that sounded so fleeting when spoken?

All were possible, and thus irrelevant.

The Demon King’s breath was imperceptible at this moment. He stepped on the ground, not caring about the broken porcelain and water stains, only stooping to pick up a pure white rose from the mess. The black cat had brought it in from outside the window that morning, in front of him.

The elven attendant was about to knock on the door one last time.

He even prayed that this time too there would be no response, so he could quickly turn and flee to the Queen to report.

But things went against his wishes; his hand froze in mid-air, because the door had already opened from inside. The Demon King looked at him coldly, his eyes as icy as arctic frost, showing no emotion that life should possess. Behind him was a room in disarray. The attendant strained to glimpse inside, but did not see the black cat that the Archmage had transformed into.

He suddenly shivered involuntarily.

This was strange, because over the past few days of interaction with the guests, the attendant had gradually learned how to calmly get along with them.

—But now it seemed that was only because the Demon King had never appeared alone.

“Mr. Kriesmeier, may I ask if the Archmage is available right now…”

“I killed him,”

The Demon King said.

He spoke as if stating a natural occurrence:

“And then ate his bones. Your Archmage is dead; nothing is left here. Since this is the case, you wouldn’t be willing to take me to the Elven Mother Tree, but since that was something he once promised to leave for me, I will take it myself.”

The elven attendant involuntarily took a step back.

The Demon King’s aura was too terrifying; it felt as if a flick of his finger would turn him to dust.

But Kriesmeier did not cast his gaze upon him again, nor did he harbor any murderous intent towards him. He simply walked past him calmly, like a wolf passing a stunned rabbit.

He would make Roland fulfill his promise.

He would finish everything Roland had mentioned, before that.

The Demon King was entirely clad in black, save for his dim pupils and silver-gray hair faintly reflecting light, and a pure, bright white rose pinned to his chest.

Where he had just stood, in an instant, only black feathers dissipating in mid-air remained.

Even Roland hadn’t expected that in the pouring rain of Lichiang City, another person was also wandering outside.

The black-haired young man focused intently on the machine at the front desk. Besides the loading time required for an old computer, the temporary power supply only lasting for less than half an hour was another reason why nothing could be rushed.

He could only allow himself to appear when most needed. Before that, he had to suppress his anxious heartbeat and calmly go over every detail of each matter in his mind.

He had agreed on a meeting time with the Child of Fortune: fifteen minutes later, at the eastern valley of the Elf Forest.

And Kriesmeier should already be at the Elven Mother Tree by now.

The location for the elven handover ceremony happened to be not far from this low-lying area. All accessible paths here were strictly blocked today, except for a narrow, grass-covered waterway, which still left room for undetected infiltration—at least that’s how Roland explained it to “Bai Mingchen.”

In reality, it was simply because the black cat Roland could pass unimpeded on any path.

Roland lit up his phone. The sound of rain outside was still heavy. On the screen, experts predicted that it would take at least a few hours for power to be fully restored after the outage. The city’s network was intermittent, and even hailing a taxi was difficult. If it weren’t for the Black Book, he might not even be able to maintain a connection with Abyss.

Shan Sheng was on the phone with his son at the internet cafe entrance.

Amidst the dense sound of rain, the conversation paused for a moment.

Shan Sheng, holding his phone, explained to a customer outside that the internet cafe was temporarily closed due to the power outage. The other person seemed suspicious of the small patch of light at the front desk, but Shan Sheng thoughtfully considered Roland’s use of it, so he still declined.

The visitor hurried away, disappearing into the rain.

Roland vaguely felt the boss talking to someone through the doorway, but the rain was too loud, and he was wearing headphones, so it wasn’t clear. He quickly shifted his attention back to the power supply in front of him.

At this point, a short while had passed since the power outage. The machine, powered by the temporary supply, finally started to operate sluggishly under his manipulation. Preparations for running Abyss were complete.

He had to—Roland had never so strongly realized it—he yearned to go back.

This world was good.

But it didn’t belong to him.

The moment the screen lit up, the countdown had begun.

Although facing a power-limited machine on a rainy, power-outage day was terrible, it was clearly much faster than traversing half of Lichiang City to find a power-supplied device. Roland quickly clicked confirm, logged into his account. The circle on the account spun slowly; this computer’s performance wasn’t great.

Three, two, one.

A little faster.

The screen’s image suddenly flickered, then the familiar furnishings from the past two days slowly loaded. Roland reached out and touched the dust on the old screen, then realized it did nothing to correct the image he saw.

Only scattered fragments of the vase remained, moonlight lingered on the pristine white bedsheets in the room, and water stains were everywhere on the floor…

The elven attendant at the door stared at him as if he had seen a walking ghost.

There was no time for lengthy explanations. The pointer in Roland’s hand had reached its final moment; it was time for his agreed-upon meeting with the Child of Fortune in the game.

Everything happened too quickly. The Archmage only had time to reassure the stunned attendant with a quick “I’m fine,” and then the black cat vanished amidst the glowing “Nova” wrapped around its tail.

In the next second, the black cat first appeared on the eastern side of the Elf Forest, in the agreed-upon damp valley bottom. The black cat’s paw pads silently left a trail of footprints in the mud.

Good,

Roland thought, I made it.

This was currently the closest opportunity he could get to the Child of Fortune in the game. Unlike those brief conversations, if this attempt developed as expected, he would have the chance to probe for deeper information about the other party. He had to go back, and therefore he had to quickly destroy all obstacles, just as Kriesmeier had said.

Roland moved the mouse, and the screen’s image changed accordingly. He searched for the flamboyant golden-haired hero.

Everything here was quiet. Most of the elven guards tonight were concentrated around the Mother Tree, with occasional silent patrols passing by. But in any case, there was no one else under the dark tree shadows. Roland heard his own heartbeat. He clicked on the friends icon in the lower left corner of the game.

“Bai Mingchen”‘s avatar was gray.

The other party had not logged on as agreed at this time.

Why? Was he already alerted? Roland’s mind raced. But there were no signs to indicate this, or rather, based on their last conversation, the Child of Fortune was still very optimistic about this meeting.

Then, something must have forced him to be unable to log on in time, just as the sudden power outage caused by this rain had forced him.

The black-haired young man suddenly took a deep breath and looked up.

A thought, extremely unlikely, almost absurd, suddenly flashed in his mind.

Basically, having such a thought and praying for a five-million-dollar lottery win didn’t differ much in probability. With his intellect, he shouldn’t be making such a guess. But, even if the probability of this happening was extremely small—

Rain. Power outage. Everything drenched.

His gaze inexplicably, slowly, shifted once again to the front door.