Chapter 694: and the translation of the chapter title (the line [1] is the title

NO. 63: Being late is also a strategy II

As facts prove, a person's circumstances can be as fickle as the human heart.

Not long ago, a certain demon once lamented how time was so slow, a week so long, but when he came to his senses now, he saw the number on the upper right of the screen was 15:18.

It's three o'clock in the afternoon.

When he carried that storage device filled with data, not leaving even 1KB behind, having mastered the inventory management essence of Resident Evil series players, standing before the teleportation gate of Heaven's Gate City...

It then felt somewhat like being separated from the world.

Especially, the scene before him was also unfamiliar.

Filled with flying and hovering vehicles, countless passengers and pedestrians of varied appearances, plus the projections, magic circles, and runes intertwining with those vehicles as they move forward, forming what looked like rather heavy luggage conveyor belts.

Similarly a gathering point for transmigrants, Heaven's Gate City's style has always been the opposite of the Borderlands District; adapting to one makes it hard to adapt to the other—unless you are like that pink-haired girl, possessing a unique heart that moves between extremes.

Evident in Heaven's Gate, hidden in the Borderlands, she could do well no matter which side she was on, and what decided where she stayed was evidently still that heart.

"Little Snake Little Snake, who are we waiting for? Ohbu-san?"

She returned from the distant queue, holding two drinks; after handing Aomo a bright‑yellow plastic cup drink labeled "Mocha", she picked up a straw to tackle her own milk tea.

Going out to buy drinks was her idea, but waiting conspicuously in front of the teleportation gate was Aomo's insistence.

"No, that wandering Blazing Sun has another destination; the ring guiding him is always eager."

"That broken circle really knows how to boss people around, eh." Qian bit the straw, struggling against the pearls in the traditional milk tea.

Aomo also lifted his cup lid and said lightly: "Indeed, but it's not without romance."

"Eh? What's romantic about that."

"The ring itself is a symbol of connection; what's released isn't just a mission, but also the intersection of people and things to come."

"That makes some sense; Little Snake really speaks eloquently about these things." Qian said, chewing tapioca balls while looking around.

Aomo merely took a sip of that drink, then immediately put the lid back on with a blank expression.

"These are just opinions borrowed from others."

"I actually think Little Snake has always understood these things well~" Qian said, turning her head, slightly bowing to peek, looking up at Aomo, "Like when I first came to the Borderlands District, you prepared a 'gift' for me—do you still remember?"

"A monster showdown."

Aomo naturally remembered; at that time he was facing off with the folks from Penguin Logistics and Rhode Island in the statue exhibition hall against merchants, and that day was also the day Qian came to the Borderlands District.

He then notified Qian, who was still Kailifu, to remember to go to the foreign realm entrance to connect to the network.

A splendid 'Monster' event, gifted to fellow monster enthusiasts weary from travel.

"And then today, you brought me again to the Office of the Land of Light..." the girl said, swiping through page after page of photos on her phone screen with one hand.

In that category, the monsters captured on screen were mixed together with the newly added Ultraman and monster data photos, revealing a different meaning.

"If this isn't intentional, I can only say Little Snake, you're quite talented."

The posture seen from below upward inevitably reminded Aomo of another gray‑haired girl; compared to the latter's pure playfulness and cuteness, the more mature former added a touch of charm and allure.

Especially, her voice is always languid and frivolous, constantly exuding a dangerous charm.

"Xintiao Qian has a unique charm of its own, but if one thinks her distance is that close, as if within reach…… Aomo sighed, then lifted the lid of his cup again:"

"Then you returned the favor with this strange drink mixing honey special beverage and mocha?"

Thus the tempting illusion faded, replaced by a familiar feigned cuteness: "Heh, this isn't that I saw in that shop a flavor seemingly specially prepared just for Little Snake, one‑of‑a‑kind~!"

"I really doubt whether this thing's audience can truly support its category," Aomo said after sniffing the far more chaotic than sweet aroma, then put the lid back on, "Let's not talk about this; let's return to the original question—who are we waiting for……"

He fell silent for a moment, glanced at the light screen beside him, then turned back: "Two colleagues from Penguin Logistics are also in Heaven's Gate City, and they'll be here soon."

"Is it Miss Kong?" Qian asked, looking around, "They actually know you've come to Heaven's Gate City?"

"Perhaps the answer to this question is just like you would come to know her," Aomo said, holding his cup in a wistful tone.

"……Um, I really don't know anything at all." Qian, having picked up her milk tea again, wore an innocent expression as she chewed on the straw.

He had hardly ever talked to Xintiao Qian about those Penguin Logistics colleagues—not because he intended to hide it, but simply because no one had asked.

The demon isn't keen on sharing every detail of his experiences, even though he usually answers any question—except for that series of subtle events that happened at his Texas home.

However, for a long time after that, his greetings and exchanges with Qielinenina remained unchanged; even when he recently covered her work—moving the Chazuo mocha pot from her belongings—nothing special occurred.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten that experience by mutual agreement—or rather, there was never anything in common to begin with; Aomo's way of breaking free from the other's embrace was perfect, and he was confident it wouldn't startle anyone.

Thus there should be no shared embarrassment; recalling the frankness when he first spoke plainly in Texas, it's easy to conclude that only his own mindset was unbalanced.

That's hardly a problem.

Whether adjusting his mindset or pretending nothing happened, he's good at it, so that little ripple is easily smoothed over.

One only needs to wait for those colleagues who stir up good things to gradually grow tired of the teasing.

It won't take long.

Just like that fabricated gossip on paper, once suppressed and pushed to the corner, it naturally fades from everyone's sight—about a few days from now, even the most carefree and unrestrained Lei mei le has stopped making jokes about Lindun and Texas, and Aomo fully believes those ripples have been smoothed over by time.

And when seeing in Penguin Logistics' chat room that Miss Kong actively pinged him, warmly greeting that since he'd come to Heaven's Gate City she ought to properly fulfill her host duties, Aomo gave a brief thought and agreed.

Coincidentally, he was indeed curious about her, after all, among Penguin Logistics' core members, she is the only one stationed far away in Heaven's Gate City, and she also actively works as a known artist expanding into the pop, classical, and opera fields.

Of course, when the latter half of her invitation also mentioned 'coincidentally Texas is also there,' Aomo couldn't help but feel a bit surprised.

Moreover, in his surprise he flipped through Penguin Logistics' work log and obtained confirmation.

Penguin Logistics has many long‑distance transport missions, but they are basically confined to Earth.

Even ultra‑long‑distance transport missions to places like Heaven's Gate City exist sporadically—not only does Rhode Island Pharma have a branch in Heaven's Gate City, but work requirements also necessitate such runs.

But such commissions are usually handled almost entirely by Mosutimma, with rare occasions when others get involved—let alone Qielinenina.

At least, from his hiring to now, this is still the first time he's seen it.

But considering that these two indeed haven't seen each other in a long time, meeting during the vacation is only natural—even though Qielinenina also happened to pick up a transport task on the side.

Frankly speaking, for transport personnel, taking on just a single task itself means taking a vacation, unless she still encounters some event during the task that consumes a lot of time——

——This isn't uncommon for Penguin Logistics' employees, yet it also doesn't mean it's always the case.

At least now, those two have indeed met up.

Frankly speaking, when old friends meet, as someone newly acquainted, I generally wouldn't be suitable to join in—just as Aomo likewise refused the little girls' Qixi festival.

Not all beauty requires one's participation; that moon is neither suited to share the stage with the scorching sun, nor convenient to compete with the stars.

Although I don't advocate a 'reading the air' civilization, the need to observe words and expressions is something every land's civilization must have.

The moon, ever reflecting others' light, is especially well versed in this.

But occasionally, someone will disregard the starlight's glow and seek an audience with the pallid moonlight.

If that's the case……

Meeting face to face is no problem.

Rushing to Heaven Gate City, spending a few hours to finish work then immediately heading back to lounge on the sofa—this also somewhat wastes the expensive ticket to Heaven Gate City.

He thought this, tapped the light screen to ask for feedback from the other side, got a reply 'On the way' plus a location, then mentally calculated roughly how long it would take to cover that distance.

Then he continued chatting with Qian, was teased by her, and she even deliberately adopted an outdated but still curve‑showing milk‑tea holding style to reinforce her words, trying to lock his unfocused gaze.

She succeeded—at least for two seconds—earning Aomo's speechless reply: 'What are you doing?'

But she didn't have time to catch the tail end; instead she snatched back the cup, lifted her head, and asked, 'Xiaoshe, did you also make plans with someone else?'

'Well, not really that kind of—' Aomo followed her gaze, turned his head, and was stunned, unable to finish the word 'arrangement'.

'Oh! You two are also traveling here!'

'What a coincidence, Aomo… Lin Dun trainer.'

Although she had deliberately changed her outfit and even applied a little makeup, her brown hair and horse ears remained conspicuous, let alone someone whose hair was a three‑tone combo, and her steps carried a natural poise.

That unique aura, combined with a private‑clothing style contrary to the rumors, produced a fashionable beauty that drew many gazes, and then in whispered murmurs they called out her name.

Ludaofu Xiangzheng.

Then those people belatedly realized the identity of the sunglasses‑wearing woman beside her.

Qianming representative.

Truly a fortunate coincidence, isn't it?