Chapter 632: Out of Deep Sleep
Light stabbed through darkness. Roland’s vision swam, adjusted, and settled on a white ceiling.
He lay still for several seconds, fighting off a thick, rolling dizziness. As it receded and the room came into focus, his unease only deepened.
Where is this?
He sat up. A modern bedroom surrounded him—soft mattress, table lamp, box of tissues on the nightstand, a maroon wardrobe against the far wall. Morning light fell through slatted blinds in warm, even bars across the floor and his arms.
His sleepiness evaporated.
The fight. Is it still going?
He swung his legs off the bed and thrust out his hand to summon a gun. Nothing came. He tried again. His palm remained empty.
Have the battlefield’s rules shifted?
He stood quietly beside the door, listening. Voices—or something like voices, thin and intermittent—seeped through from the next room. He eased the door open and slipped through.
A living room. Old ceiling fan rotating with a faint rattle, its red ribbon turning in the draft. A couch with a low table in front of it. A wall-mounted television casting a constant cold flicker. The voices came from there.
No one else in the room.
Roland released a long breath and stepped fully inside. The fan’s draft passed over him—cooler than the thick summer air pressing through the walls. Cicadas droned outside. High season, he thought.
A few magazines were scattered across the couch. He picked one up and flipped through it. Horoscopes. Celebrity gossip. Fashion divination. The reading material of a twelve-year-old girl.
He set it down.
The television caught his eye.
“—an unexplained explosion occurred at a local university yesterday evening. A school building sustained serious damage. Images from the scene show a collapsed rooftop and broken glass scattered across a wide area. What actually happened? Let’s go now to our reporter on the ground.”
Roland’s jaw loosened. He recognized that building.
“Good afternoon.” A female reporter appeared, the damaged structure visible behind her shoulder—the same rooftop where he had fought Zero. “According to eyewitnesses, the flames lit up half the sky, accompanied by continuous explosions. Fortunately, because of the summer holiday, few students were on campus, and there are no casualties to report. The campus has been sealed by police, and remaining students are being relocated to nearby accommodations. The cause of the explosion has not yet been determined.”
The host’s voice returned. “What are you hearing from those on the scene?”
“Everyone says it’s very strange. As anyone knows, it’s impossible for a natural gas pipeline to run through a teaching building—and the center of the explosion was on the top floor.” The reporter spoke quickly, the words tumbling. “Some witnesses are speculating a plane crash, others are saying small meteorites, some even say alien arrival. I’ll report back the moment police announce a conclusion.”
The screen cut back to the studio anchor. Roland stopped listening.
The Battle of Souls was supposed to be an illusion. He stared at the place where the reporter had stood. Then how—
He crossed the living room in a few strides and unlocked the front door.
A wall of summer heat rolled over him. He squinted into it.
A modern city. High-rises pressing together in a dense grey skyline. A busy street below—traffic, pedestrians, the particular hum of a city in full motion. He was standing in the corridor of an old apartment block. He turned. On the door behind him, a gold plate read: 0825.
Room 25. Eighth floor.
“Excuse me. Stop blocking the corridor.”
He stepped aside reflexively. A middle-aged woman brushed past him, trailing cheap perfume. “Loafing around in singlet and underpants,” she muttered, loud enough to carry. “An adult with no shame.”
Roland walked back into the apartment and shut the door hard.
“Zero!” His voice bounced off the walls. “Come out!”
“Stop hiding! Is this your newest trick—piecing together scraps of my memory?”
“It won’t work. This is an illusion and I know it.”
Silence. The fan rattled on.
He grabbed a glass from the table and flung it against the wall. It shattered.
She wants to trap me in here. His lip curled. It won’t hold.
He assessed his options. The last time he’d woken himself from the Soul Battlefield, he’d used pain. The principle should be the same here—he needed to convince his body the fall was real.
He moved two chairs over, stacked them against the couch for a soft landing, and climbed. His head nearly touched the ceiling. From up here, the backward fall looked genuinely unpleasant. He’d been afraid of heights once. He wasn’t anymore—not after dying several times across two very different lifetimes.
He heard the lock click just as he steadied himself.
Someone’s coming in.
The stacked chairs wobbled. He lost his balance.
A girl walked through the door—backpack slung over one shoulder, white hair unmistakable, light red eyes going wide as she registered him. He knew her face before he could stop himself.
“Zero—”
“What are you doing?! Uncle!”
The world folded.
It reversed, contracted, and snapped back. Roland gasped. He was upright on a bed in a room he recognized: gray stone walls, velvet curtains, the soft ambient light of a Magic Stone glowing in its bracket.
Neverwinter.
Plunk.
He turned toward the sound. A wooden pot lay on the floor, still spinning, spilling hot water across a large section of a map. Anna stood two paces away, frozen, staring at him. Her hands were empty. Her face was blank with a shock she hadn’t had time yet to process into relief.
Then she ran.
Chapter 632: Out of Deep Sleep
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
When the light pierced through the darkness and his blur vision adjusted to the light source, the white ceiling was the first thing that Roland saw. It took him several seconds to get rid of his dizziness and he felt increasingly weird as his vision became clearer.
“Where exactly is this?” thought Roland.
He suddenly sat up and noticed that he was actually sleeping in a modernlooking bedroom. He was sleeping in a soft bed with a table lamp and a box of napkins on one side and a maroon-colored wardrobe on the other side. The dazzling sun shone through the blinds and evenly poured on the mat and his arms, making him feel slightly warm.
“Damn! Is this fight not over yet?” Roland’s sleepiness completely disappeared in a sudden.
He rolled off the bed and stretched out his hand to summon a gun for selfdefense but his hand was still empty after several attempts.
His heart sank.
“Can it be… the rules of the battlefield have changed again?”
“It’s too bad. If I have to be unarmed, I would only be beaten up by the pure witch with her skills and speed.”
“And, what about the deal of choosing my most impressive scene as the battle ring? I did not have any impression of this d*mn room!”
Roland quietly walked to the bedroom door and leaned against the door to listen for a moment. He heard an intermittent voice, which seemed that someone was talking outside.
He carefully held onto the door handle and slit the door. It was a more spacious room which was furnished as a living room. The old fan beside the empty couch was rattling and continuously buzzing. There were a tea table and a wall-hanging television with a constantly flashing screen in front of the couch. It was probably where the voice came from.
Except that, no one was in the living room.
Such situation was a little weird.
Roland took a deep breath and slowly walked into the living room.
The red ribbon on the fan cover was dancing along the wind and the gently blowing cool wind refreshed him. He realized that the room was a little stuffy at the moment, and the echoing chirr of the cicadas signified that it was the summer season.
A few magazines were scattered on the couch. Roland picked up one of them and flipped through it. The content was actually extremely childish. They were fashion news, horoscopes, and divination that were only read by immature little girls.
He frowned even more deeply.
This was apparently not his house as he would not buy such magazines at all, be it in the past life or the present life.
The news on the television at this moment attracted Roland’s attention.
“Yesterday evening, an unexplainable explosion happened at a local university. A school building was damaged. The pictures of the scene showed that the entire rooftop had collapsed and there were scattered broken glasses everywhere. What actually happened? Now, let’s contact the reporter at the scene.”
He dropped his jaw as he could hardly believe what he just saw.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m standing beside the school building where the explosion occurred.” A female reporter appeared on the screen and the background was the building where he battled with Zero! “According to the witnesses, the flame lit up half of the sky with continuous explosions. Fortunately, there were no casualties as not many students stay on campus due to the summer holiday. The entire campus is currently sealed by the police and the students on campus are also transferred to the nearby hostels to be guided by the teachers. However, the cause of the explosion hasn’t yet been clarified so far.”
“What’s your thought about the accident?”
“We can only say that it’s very strange. Everyone knows that it’s impossible to even install a natural gas pipeline in the teaching building, not to mention the center of the explosion was on the top floor,” The female reporter said in one breath, “Some people speculated that it was a plane crash, some thought it was small meteorites or some even say that it could be the alien arrival. Anyway, I’ll immediately return with the message once the police have a definite conclusion.”
“Thanks.” The host nodded. “Then, let’s look at the next news. It’s a hot summer and the heat is unbearable. Students should enjoy the long-lost holiday life at home instead of participating in the extracurricular classes. The Department of Education has issued a notice to prohibit private tutoring. Please call the hotline if you encounter any of such cases…”
Roland was not able to continue listening as the scene of the collapsing campus had filled his mind. “Wasn’t the Battle of Souls a fictional illusion?” “How could it be possible?”
After standing stoned for a while, he quickly ran towards the door of the living room as he had a sudden realization. A hot wave suddenly poured into the house when he opened the security door.
A modern city appeared in front of him!
The high-rise buildings at a distance formed a dense concrete jungle. It was a busy street not far away with endless crossing cars and pedestrians. And, he was standing in the corridor of an apartment building. He turned around and saw a gold plate with number 0825 hanging in the middle of the low-grade door. If he did not misunderstand, it meant Room 25 on the eighth floor.
“Excuse me. Please don’t block the corridor, will you?”
Roland was slightly surprised. He turned around and noticed that the neighbor’s door was opened before he knew and a middle-aged woman was impatiently staring at him. The woman coldly hummed while walking past Roland after he tilted his body to one side. The strong smell of low-quality perfume flowed into his nose at the same time.
“What the heck, having no work and running around with only singlet and underpants. How can an adult be so shameless?” the woman muttered to herself and her voice just happened to float into Roland’s ears. Such technique seemed to come in handy for middle-aged women.
Roland walked back into the house and loudly closed the door.
“Come out! Zero!”
“Don’t waste the time hiding!”
“Is this your newly designed trick? Piecing pieces of my memories together?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s simply an illusion!”
Nothing happened in the room even though Roland shouted for a while.
Roland grabbed a glass cup on the table and smashed it on the wall. The cup was instantly broken into pieces.
“Is this how you defeat me?” He sneered to himself. “Trying to trap me in this consciousness forever? You won’t be able to lock me up, Zero!”
He immediately acted without any hesitation.
“How can I get away if this is another illusion of the Battle of Souls?” thought Roland.
Suicide was definitely the last option, and Roland decided to start with a simple one—to create a fall.
He moved a few chairs over and stacked them from big to small ones with the back of the chair against the couch so that he would not be wounded even if he failed.
When it was completed, he stepped onto the constantly rocking chairs and climbed slowly to the top. His head was almost touching the ceiling at the moment, and falling backward was indeed scary.
However, this psychological barrier was nothing to Roland as he had experienced different ways to die by now.
He could hear someone unlocking the door from the outside when he was on top of the rocking chairs.
“Perhaps the real owner of this house has returned?” Roland thought.
The highly-stacked chairs collapsed before he could balance himself.
Roland struggled to turn around during the frantic fall and saw a young girl who was about 11 or 12 years old walking into the room with a backpack. However, he could instantly recognize her from her white long hair and light red eyes.
“Zero!”
And, she was obviously surprised to see Roland at the same time.
“What’re you doing?! Uncle!”
The picture became twisted in a sudden as if the world was being reversed. Roland quickly bounced up and gasped for air twice. The familiar room reappeared in his eyes.
The gray stone wall with tiny cracks, thick velvet curtains, and the Magic Stone that was silently glowing…
This is… the city of Neverwinter?
“Plunk.”
It was the sound made by the wooden pot dropping on the floor.
Roland followed the sound and found that Anna was blankly standing there. The pot that dropped on the floor was spinning and the spilled hot water had wet a huge area of the map.
And, the girl quickly ran to him.