Chapter 67

In the southern part of Boundary Gate District, Majestic Fun Avenue bustles with people, including many youths.

The long vacation at Gaien Dongyan Campus has arrived.

It seemed as if they were making up for the time they couldn't spend on the streets during school, with many students in casual clothes wandering back and forth on the street, enjoying the entertainment and food spots around the campus that were originally prepared for holiday students.

Among these students, a group of three youths walking side by side was still conspicuous.

One of them wore a mask and a hat, black pants, white shirt plus a jacket, with a strand of white-dyed hair falling over his forehead, leaving only sharp brows and eyes to observe the surroundings.

In his hand, he held a cup of drink.

Another sported a punk hairstyle, draped in an eternally unchanging bright yellow jacket, his gaze wandering everywhere without focus.

In his hand, he also held a cup of drink.

Yet another, though his hairstyle and clothing were ordinary—black pants and a black T-shirt—while everyone else held only one drink, he held two!

He put both straws together to his mouth, gulping like a whale, yet mastering a skill that lets him drink without interfering with speech.

You already have the Airei King and Ace Killer cards—quickly go make a Belial card to combine into a Thunder Killer! You don't know this formula?

There's even such a formula?

Sizing up this guy who was talking while drinking water, Aomo wondered why he wasn't getting choked.

Oh... this world seems to have no one plagiarizing Jie De Ultraman... saying that does sound a bit weird," Bi Ze began shaking his head, "Orb and Zeta haven't been plagiarized either—would anyone really resist the Nebula Award and not do plagiarism?"

There might be unexpected resistance, like the parties involved also being in this world or something.

Even though he didn't know those few works, it didn't hinder his understanding of the conversation; Aomo could easily cite several similar examples.

He had also seen plenty of news about transmigrators in the past, especially regarding disputes over privacy protection.

When plagiarizing, he discovered that the work's characters were also here, rolling up their sleeves—truly a big 'surprise' in life.

That would definitely make the news! They're that big, and Zeta is a pure simpleton brute.

Can you say something that both I and David can understand? David, don't zone out—what are you thinking about?

In Non-existent Memories, there is no such thing as Zeta Ultraman—whether it's because the original memory's owner never encountered it or simply because the original data damage happened to include that part, anyway, Aomo, who didn't understand, turned and greeted David, who hadn't joined the conversation for a few minutes.

I... I'm a bit curious—did my uncle really turn into an electronic ghost?

Yeah, I originally planned to help him delete his workstation's browsing history and hard‑drive files, but he can do it himself—looks like he's quite skilled at the electronic ghost abilities.

Do you want to see him? I can try to call him out.

David fell silent for a moment, shook his head: '... Better not disturb him.'

'... That's fine too.'

It was clear that when David brought up this topic, he frowned a little, as if recalling something unpleasant from the past; Aomo therefore went along with his words, then glanced at Bi Ze.

As expected, this transmigrator who knew David and his companions' history well was winking at him, trying to activate a function like 'team voice chat'.

If he really gave himself a crystal core in his brain, he could possibly do it, but Bi Ze obviously still clung to an organic body, and moreover lacked the tacit understanding with Aomo needed for eye‑communication.

Let him try cultivating psychic and telekinetic abilities later—without installing a crystal core, he could still use source energy for techniques like sound transmission, at least for a pure ordinary person it's not easy.

However, honestly, the risk of eavesdropping on such techniques is also high—once someone else is better than you, it becomes a public free‑mic, so Aomo himself never learned it.

But that doesn't stop us from urging this guy!

After experiencing the Heaven Gate City incident, Aomo's mindset also changed somewhat—originally his cultivation of source energy and body‑tech training were gradual, take it slow, not rushed, but now he has somewhat developed a sense of urgency, beginning to show signs of recklessness.

Just a bit.

After all, he still knew that Heaven Gate City was inherently quite bizarre—an environment where transmigrators and soul‑transmigration phenomena, even monsters, refreshed at irregular intervals, something Boundary Gate District could not match.

How could a normal city occasionally launch limited‑time events and deadly missions!

Boundary Gate District can at least be considered a comfortable novice zone; security isn't especially good, but at least the trouble stays in dark corners, unlike Heaven Gate City, where peace reigns when nothing happens, but when something does——

——a decisive battle, the ancient battlefield of the stars!

He thought he should really urge Bi Ze to make some progress; while glancing at David, who was brooding and unconsciously stepping forward, he subtly took two steps toward Bi Ze, leaning in slightly.

This didn't require coordination or tacit understanding; Bi Ze, who was naturally eager to explain, saw the chance and moved close to his ear, lowering his voice:

David has a deceased mother; he doesn't get that kind of treatment.

"That kind of treatment"—referring to David appearing in the western part of Boundary Gate District at 1 a. m. on June 5 with a shattered Vajra prosthetic, his spirit on the verge of collapse and lacking mobility, only able to howl helplessly, which startled a cleaning robot and sent him to the nearest medical‑facility building—the infirmary of Boundary Gate District's Limen Middle School.

Based on the reconstructed body from limb cross‑section reshaping, the three psychic source energy teachers jointly performed an emergency cleansing of the spirit.

This was a medical lineup that the vast majority of students never got to enjoy, with the teachers themselves personally attending.

It was precisely this lineup that pulled David Martinez back from the brink of death and even freed him from madness.

David had always regarded it as a miraculous stroke of luck; even when he encountered Rebecca, who was clearly crushed yet emerged unscathed here, he did not slight that luck in the slightest—but perhaps upon hearing himself recount Morrison's experience, he truly realized that the moments he considered miraculous were actually not uncommon in this world.

Even if burned to a charred corpse or having his soul torn apart, it could be reassembled and converted into data—this technology should remind him of Arasaka Tower's palanquin—in Cyberpunk 2077, which had already been plagiarized long ago, David was even recommended by his companions to play the game.

He had brought this up in the chat software with Aomo.

But Arasaka Tower's soul prison and this place's network data heaven are obviously not comparable.

Aomo could even call Morrison out at any time, provided Morrison was willing to respond.

Upon thinking of this, David inevitably also thought of how, having truly experienced happiness thus far, the only thing left was regret.

His deceased mother, Gloria Martinez, remained forever in the original world.

David, I've heard about your—" Aomo raised his hand and patted his back, the spine, that being the position of the military implant 'Stenwick', "is this something your aunt left for you?"

"'... Yes.'"

David, upon suddenly hearing this, had no suspicion—after all, he had indeed told Aomo about his special trait, mentioning that it was something his mother left him, but he never went into detail about how she left it.

I heard you refused to let anyone modify or enhance this implant.

"\"...... \" David remained silent, lowering his gaze to the latte in his hand."

This isn't a big deal; even if his companions knew, they didn't advise him anything, after all in this world there's considerable research on mental adjustment and even soul protection—without adjusting the implant, one could still correct one's mental state via other implant effects, it just costs more.

Unlike Aomo, whose frugality trait had been strengthened by his lifelong experiences and recent ordeals, David didn't mind the high price—after all he was already settled in a fledgling mercenary office, saving that sum wasn't hard, let alone the fact that people were looking out for him.

Aomo thought he might even install those auxiliary implants sooner, relying on the concern of the people around him.

Coming openly would most likely be refused, but what if it were a sudden strike disguised as a gift?

Thinking this through, Aomo lifted the soda in his hand.

The sensory mask on his cheek instantly turned into particles, decomposing a small part, allowing him to touch the straw and take a sip; once the straw left, it resealed.

The sensation of the bubbles spreading in his mouth made his thoughts clearer; although not as profound as black coffee, it was still fairly distinct. He had initially thought that people around Dawei would eventually cause trouble for him because of his interference with Dawei, but in the past few days nothing has happened.

Perhaps I should proactively 'help' by submitting this plan to someone near him as compensation.

Whether it was the hearty brother from that day or the petite girl who later came to pick up Dawei, they'd likely respond with a "Kid, you're pretty savvy" expression... Of course, there might also be a minor warning.

You can't really think of people as being that simple.

"Let me guess, just a guess, not considering current auxiliary implant considerations, you are..." Aomo, after slightly organizing his thoughts, spoke again, his gaze immediately turning to Dawei: "You want to fully preserve what she left behind, right?"

That sentence drew a glance from the silent Dawei; his slightly surprised gaze, after a few seconds, also carried a hint of relief.

"Another Aomo-style so-called guess?"

"There will still be quite a few mistakes; I've said not to treat this as mind reading."

Aomo felt helpless, but seeing his reaction, he let out a sigh of relief.

This seems like something that could simply be left alone; he himself isn't unable to understand it.

"But as a friend, I still hope you don't think too much."

He originally wanted to say that the implant left by his aunt was inside Dawei's body, and her will would always accompany Dawei, but he thought perhaps it would be more appropriate for Bi Ze to say that, since his foster father was still lively in the electronic world; even if Dawei didn't overthink, he himself felt a bit hypocritical.

Forget about bothering Bi Ze... Aomo turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the carefree guy beside him who was chiming in with "Yeah, yeah."

It was actually Bi Ze who first got close with Dawei; this guy clearly is a real-life fulfiller with not-low emotional intelligence, plus he knows more about Dawei's side, yet there's been no movement.

Is it really that they haven't paid much attention, or is my pace too fast?

Let's just ask him later, Aomo thought, hearing Dawei's wry acknowledgment in his ear, and he slightly adjusted his travel plans.

In this state, playing games would be slow to start or even hard to start; better to show off something that could more easily shift attention.

"Dawei, Bi Ze, let's go to the arcade later; how about first visiting the Source Energy Training Field?"

"Huh?" "Sure."

Compared to the still-doubting Dawei, the one who reacted most naturally was naturally Bi Ze, who knows Aomo well.

Precisely because they understand, it's clear that being able to make Aomo change his existing arrangements is itself a major issue.

As for the Source Energy Training Field…

Because he lacks a foundation in Source Energy cultivation, Bi Ze has never actually been to such a specialized place, and he's quite curious about it.

And as a mechanical implant athlete, Dawei is practically insulated from Source Energy, yet Aomo's invitation genuinely sparked his interest.

Never having encountered extraordinary power doesn't mean there's no yearning; it's simply a lack of exposure. In this world, people can mention "magic" casually, and its theory is even printed in textbooks—Dawei cannot deny that his heart has fluttered before, but rashly revealing it would only embarrass him.

After all, he doesn't consider himself a child anymore.

And then today, Aomo gave him a reason to legitimately try to make contact:

"Let me show you two the fruits of my travels; going there would be more direct."

He naturally would also be willing to seize the opportunity.