Chapter 449: Jet-Black Foundation, South Heaven Gate

In my opinion, there’s something fishy about this!

The Core Star Spirit feigned seriousness, naturally exuding a cold, elegant aura, as if she had seen through everything, her eyes gleaming sharply:

“We just experienced a time reversal event, and before we could even figure out our situation, we immediately ran into this little girl…”

“Oh?”

March 7 looked curiously at her companion beside her; she was usually the one making [predictions]—could her own companion also have the potential of a seer?

By now, March 7 had fully acknowledged her own curse-like tendency and took pride in it as her unique trait.

Upon hearing this, Jizi, Walter, and Dan Heng all turned curious glances toward the Core Star Spirit.

This Core Star Spirit’s origins were utterly mysterious, possessing countless implausible powers; even if she shared the same curse-like ability as Little March, it would be no surprise.

“Therefore, this little girl must be an extremely important quest NPC!”

The Core Star Spirit spoke with absolute certainty, as if possessed by a black cat, turning the river of time into a script, her gaze piercing the future, seeing everything about this little girl, and declaring thus:

“Before, when we wandered into this world, we could never find the main storyline—it was surely because we were going in the wrong direction, never finding this quest NPC, which is why we couldn’t escape!”

“But Star Sister, this isn’t a game—how can there be quest NPCs in the real world?”

A little girl held by Jizi tilted her head slightly, biting her finger in confusion:

“Also, I saw this older sister was about to faint—but why is she staring at us so intently now?”

This demeanor…

Really does match the description of a quest NPC!

“Little Sakura, don’t listen to Star’s nonsense—there’s no such thing as quest NPCs in the real world!”

She had expected some profound insight from this one, but instead, the idiot was just spouting nonsense—March 7 rolled her eyes, then moved forward in silent understanding, keeping a safe distance from the strange little girl alongside her companions.

Regardless, the presence of this little girl before them was undeniably strange.

She appeared to be an ordinary human child, even in poor physical condition from being drenched in rain—yet after seeing their train group, she straightened her posture and stared at them with an eerie gaze…

“Hello, I’m Jizi. Your condition seems off—are Itachi running a fever?”

Ignoring the girl’s startled expression, Jizi offered a gentle smile, stepping slightly forward yet maintaining a safe distance, careful not to startle her.

“Little one, is there anything your sister can help Itachi with?”

Huiyuan Ai was momentarily dazzled by that gentle smile, her eyes dimming slightly before snapping back to focus, thoughts flashing through her mind like lightning.

These people… their vibe is subtly different from everyone else in this world!

What connection do they have to the chat group that appeared in my mind?

…

【The Five Defilements and Evil World, Hell Has No Door, Spiritual Resurgence, Rule-Based Horror.】

【Taste the despair that sinks into your marrow, experience the terror that freezes your soul—where lies your future?】

【Congratulations—Itachi are about to bid farewell to your ordinary past and embrace a brand-new life.】

【Die… or struggle to survive, and become a player of the new era!】

【This is the first—or final—advice from the Weird Game!】

The crimson hue of the setting sun lent these lines an eerie aura; coupled with the flickering lights from a circuit short, Zhou Zhe’s brow furrowed tightly as he browsed the world’s information online.

“Is this… an ad?”

Zhou Zhe’s expression hardened slightly, as if trying to convince himself.

Yet.

The man scanning data set his phone down, then rose without a word:

“Damn, why am I so hungry all of a sudden?”

“Forget it—I’ll head out to Old Li’s place on the street and get a bowl of beef rice for dinner.”

One step… two steps… nothing seemed amiss?

Had he become overly paranoid?

Was a random pop-up ad turning him into a startled bird?

A voice inside him seemed to ask.

Yet.

Zhou Zhe kept his gaze straight ahead, not even glancing at his phone—the one he never left behind—acting as if the man who couldn’t go three minutes without it wasn’t him at all.

Evening.

Walking through the Esman District, Zhou Zhe watched calmly as a convenience store around the corner witnessed a zero-yuan purchase.

It wasn’t that this socialist successor, raised in the spring breeze beneath the red flag, lacked moral compassion or felt nothing at this moral decay.

It was simply that…

In this nation resembling the police-state beacon of his former world, if he truly rushed over as a lone hero to stop the Black man committing the zero-yuan purchase, he would never receive gratitude from the store owner—or a little red flag from the police. Quite the opposite…

He’d likely be instantly labeled suspicious, reported by the owner, and dragged to the station for questioning.

After all…

If he intervened in the zero-yuan purchase, he wouldn’t just prevent the owner from claiming insurance—he’d also have to pay roughly one-tenth the value of the stolen goods as compensation…

This was the universal moral standard of the great world beacon.

At this moment, Zhou Zhe forcibly shoved the strange ad from his mind and reorganized his scattered memories.

He looked down at his familiar hands—undoubtedly his own—and let out a bitter laugh:

“I never thought I’d cross over—and bring my body along too…”

It wasn’t that his body was unhealthy.

But arriving in a strange world with a physical body, yet no local household registration, was an immense hassle.

Had he not carried the legendary transmigrator’s golden finger, the mere issues of identity and language alone would have crushed him!

Zhou Zhe had once been just an ordinary college graduate; as the saying goes, graduation meant unemployment.

After graduation, Zhou Zhe had gone out with several close classmates to discuss future employment over a street-side barbecue. Overcome by emotion, he drank a few bottles, stumbled back to his dorm drunk, and woke up—transmigrated!

And it was one of those old-school physical-transmigration stories!

Still, Zhou Zhe found some comfort: at least he wasn’t a blank-slate transmigrator.

Though the thing looked strange, the three big characters on it gave him at least a sliver of reassurance.

Before him, suspended in the air behind his back, stood a vast, jet-black gate—seemingly reaching from earth to heaven, as if standing atop the thirty-three heavens—with characters inscribed upon it:

South Heaven Gate!