Chapter 641: The Door to the Fragment
Now he was responsible for raising the newborn.
Roland yawned pulling himself upright. The ladder he’d fallen from still lay on its side across the floor. Beyond the blinds, the day was already bright.
He’d been dressed when he fell. Now he wore only boxers. The inertia of the subconscious — every departure from the Dream World seemed to carry forward a few unconscious hours, ensuring each return resumed from the exact moment he’d left. How formalized. He resolved to try departing at midnight, to see whether he could break the habit.
And he was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. Eyes dry, mind fogged, a persistent heaviness that ran the length of him. Counting the Dream World’s hours, he’d been awake more than twenty. He should sleep again this afternoon.
He put on a short-sleeved shirt and went to the living room, where the diminutive figure was already there.
“You’re up early.” Zero looked faintly surprised. “I haven’t started breakfast. Wait a moment.”
She’d just risen herself — white hair hanging disordered over her shoulders, a few strands sticking up at angles. The pale blue dress and white stockings were the same ones she’d worn for three days. Her bedroom was always immaculate, which meant this was shortage of clothes, not sloth. Roland registered the distinction. Something settled in his chest, dense and quiet.
Not only for her. For himself, too.
He tried to think of the 300 yuan — no, 250 — left in his wallet. The founder of the Dream World and the witch who triggered it, reduced to counting fritters. He had to find income. 250 yuan wouldn’t cover a taxi ride, let alone food and utilities.
Zero had already moved to the kitchen. She lit the flame with one hand, poured oil into the pan, and cracked an egg against the rim in a clean single-handed motion. The pan was too heavy to toss, so she worked the spatula. Oil sizzled; the smell of omelet drifted into the living room before he’d finished the thought.
Breakfast was the usual: two fried fritters and an egg for Roland, one fritter for Zero.
He bit into a fritter. No longer crisp. “These were bought yesterday?”
“Of course.” She grunted. “They were the last ones in the grocery store at closing — cheaper that way. Sometimes the owner gives me the leftover dough and I fry them myself.”
Roland looked at her. “You did that at home too?”
“Almost.” Zero shook her head and said nothing more. She never did, when her family came up. After breakfast she dressed simply, hoisted her bag, and walked to the door. “As usual, Uncle — I’ll be back by noon. You wash the dishes.”
“Right. Take care.”
She stopped. Turned. A beat of silence passed between them. Then: “Yes,” and she was gone.
He went back to the bedroom and went through every corner — bedside cabinets, wardrobe, the backs of drawers — making an honest count.
First: the wallet. An ID card, a credit card, just over 200 yuan. He threw out a handful of expired lottery tickets without ceremony.
Second: the phone. Contact list empty except for bank notices. The records showed Zero’s parents wired 1,500 yuan at month’s end; four days remained until the next transfer, and 20 yuan sat in the account. Enough to eat. Nothing else.
Third: several pieces of jewelry, probably gold. Perhaps purchased for a marriage that never came. Pawnable — maybe 1,000 yuan from a generous broker.
He exhaled. This was all of it.
Then he turned toward the lumber-room.
The far door opened onto clutter: an iron bicycle and a sewing machine caked in dust and cobwebs, scrap value perhaps 30 to 40 yuan; a large iron door resting against the far wall, worth more than 100 yuan in scrap iron. Piddling figures, once. Everything now.
A hundred yuan could buy secondhand textbooks for every subject he needed.
He’d spotted recycler ads posted in the stairwell. He’d call one after cleaning the pieces up — perhaps a cleaner item fetched a better price.
He started hauling the bicycle and sewing machine to the living room. Sweat and exertion. And then he stopped.
The iron door did not lean against the wall.
It was built into it.
Roland stood and looked. The wall it occupied was the apartment’s exterior wall. He went to the window and checked the outside: smooth, unbroken, not a single seam or patch. The door hadn’t been added afterward — it had been there from the beginning, fitted into the masonry when the apartment was finished.
Which idiot builds a door in an exterior wall?
And: there’s a lock on it.
He remembered the second key on his ring — the one that had never matched anything. He fetched it, slid it into the lock.
It fit.
The rusty padlock clicked and dropped. Roland pulled the bolt and wrenched the door open.
Cold air hit him first — then snow, whipping through every gap at his collar and cuffs. He stood in a short-sleeved shirt and gasped, shivering so hard it rattled his jaw.
Beyond the threshold: a world of white.
Across a sweeping snowfield, surrounded by mountains that rose and plunged in great frozen arcs, a city stood in the breach of the range — built along both sides of a crack in the stone, pressed into the rock, braced against it. At the city’s center, a single tower climbed until it seemed to hold up the sky.
He’d never seen this place. He knew it at once.
New Holy City, Hermes.
A stronghold at the fractured spine of the Impassable Mountain Range. A symbol built to outlast everything — the Church’s might made permanent in stone.
He stood in the howling cold and looked at it, and did not move for a long time.
Chapter 641: The Door to the Fragment
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Now he was responsible for raising the newborn.
Roland yawned while getting up from the bed. He noticed that the ladder that he had used for falling was still laid on its side and that beyond the blinds, it was bright.
He had been wearing clothes when he fell from the ladder, and yet now he had nothing on but a pair of boxers. “Was this caused by the inertia of the subconscious?” It seemed that every departure from the Dream World would continue for some time until he fell asleep again, which would ensure that every time he entered the dream, it would be the exact moment he woke up in the Dream World… “How formalized was that?!”
He decided to depart the Dream World at midnight to see if he could eliminate the sleepwalking-like unconscious behavior.
In addition, Roland also felt exhausted from the lack of sleep, totally unlike someone who had just woken up. His eyes were bloodshot and dry, and his mind was fogged. He also could not stop yawning. He had stayed up for more than 20 hours if he counted the time in the Dream World too.
Roland thought that maybe he had better catch some sleep in the afternoon.
Roland put on a short-sleeved shirt and walked into the living room where he saw the diminutive figure again.
“You’re up so early today?” Zero looked a bit surprised. “I haven’t even started to make breakfast yet… You wait here for a while. I’ll go and prepare it now.”
Obviously, Zero just got up as well. Her white long hair hanging disorderly over her shoulders with wisps of hair sticking up, she looked completely different from the usual her who was neat and quick. She was still wearing the pale blue dress with white stockings, which, if Roland was not mistaken, had been worn for three days. Since Zero had kept her bedroom tidy, it must be definitely due to her shortage of clothes to change into rather than laziness or insanitation.
Somehow, Roland felt quite bitter in his heart.
Not only for her, but also for himself.
Roland could not believe it when thinking of the 300… no, 250 yuan in his pocket. How could he, the founder of the Dream World, and Zero, the trigger for the Dream World, descend to such a state? It could not be more tragic.
Roland would not let the situation worsen, since money was necessary when he wanted to buy books or explore this Dream World. He had to find a way to seek a stable income. 250 yuan could not even pay for a taxi, let alone to pay food and utilities.
When Roland was absorbed in thought about how to make money, Zero had busied herself in the kitchen.
She rapidly lit the fire to heat the pan before pouring in oil and heating it up. With a single hand, she cracked an egg and splattered it into the pan. Although the pan was too heavy for her to shovel up and down, she could just use a spatula to scramble the egg.
As the heated oil was sizzling in the pan, the tantalizing aroma of an omelet soon filled the living room.
Because of the limited cost of living, their breakfast had barely changed. Roland had two fried fritters and a fried egg, just as usual, and Zero had only one fried fritter.
“Were these fritters bought yesterday?” Roland took a bite and found it no longer crisp.
“Of course.” Zero grunted. “They were the last fritters in grocery store last night, so they were especially cheap. Sometimes the owner would give me some of the raw flour dough from which I can simply make several fritters on my own.”
Roland was surprised and asked, “Did you do the same thing at your home?”
“Almost.” The little girl shook her head, saying nothing more. She seemed unwilling to talk about her family. After breakfast, she dressed up simply before carrying the bag and heading off to school. She walked to the door and said, “Uncle, as usual, I’ll be out until noon. You have to wash the dishes.”
“Ah, just go. Take care!” Roland nodded.
Zero could not help but get startled. After a while, she said yes and went out.
Well, it was time to check and count his property.
He returned to his bedroom and checked every corner of the bedside cabinets and wardrobe, sorting out all his belongings.
Firstly, it was the wallet that also contained an ID card and a credit card as well as the over 200 yuan. It looked so shabby. Roland, of course, threw some expired lottery tickets straight into the trash can. Even if those tickets drew prizes, they were overdue. Moreover, he simply did not believe anything with such a small probability would fall on him.
Secondly, there was a cell phone that had a completely empty contact list except for the bank information that showed him the cash flow in his card. Having read the message from the bank, Roland noticed that Zero’s parents would send 1,500 yuan to him at the end of each month. But now, four days to the next remittance, there was only 20 yuan left in the card, which would be only enough to save him from starvation. In this case, there was no way for him to do other things.
Finally, there were some pieces of jewelry seemingly made of gold, and yet Roland was not sure about it. He wondered if they were prepared for
marriage. If he sold them to a gold shop, Roland might earn almost 1,000 yuan, which could be used for emergencies.
This was all his disposable wealth.
But it barely helped the current situation, Roland sighed. He then turned his eyes towards the furnishings in the lumber-room.
He opened the door in the far end of the suite and looked at some old items in the room.
The iron bicycle and sewing machine, which was covered with dust and cobwebs, would presumably be worth 30 to 40 yuan due to its material, especially the latter one which was extremely heavy and hard for him to move alone. And the big iron door, which could count as scrap iron, might be worth over 100 yuan. These piddling amounts of money might seem of little importance in Roland’s eyes at the usual time, but they were quite precious to him now.
If he went to a secondhand bookstore to buy abandoned schoolbooks, over 100 yuan would be enough to cover the used books of all subjects.
He made up his mind at the thought.
Roland remembered that there were small ads posted on the stairwell, which included the phone number of a recycle station. But before selling them, he had to clean them up first.
Roland thought that maybe they would be worth more if he made them cleaner.
Gasping, he carried and dragged the bicycle and sewing machine to the living room, and then he found something wrong.
The thick, big iron door did not seem to lean against the wall of the lumberroom, but was built into the wall!
“Damn it. Which bastard did this? What’s the meaning of making a door on this wall? It’s the outer wall of the apartment. Is it to make it more convenient
for someone to commit suicide?”
“And there’s also a lock hanging ridiculously on the door!”
“Wait…” It occurred to him that two keys were attached to his key ring.
Roland immediately went and fetched his keys which included the key to the main door. He put the other key into the keyhole. Unexpectedly, they were well matched.
With a click, the rusty lock flicked open and fell from the bolt.
Roland did not bother to pick it up but just pulled the bolt and forcibly opened the iron door.
The cold wind tangled with the snow and stormed in. This made him, who wore a short-sleeved shirt and a boxers tremble.
To his astonishment, there was a snow world behind the iron door.
He could dimly see a greige city surrounded by snow mountains that waved up and down far away. Built along the walls on both sides of the crack in the mountain, the city was wrapped in a big breach. In the center of the city, a towering building stood erect in the howling wind, like a pillar connecting to heaven.
Although it was the first time for him to see such scene, Roland immediately realized where it was.
“New Holy City, Hermes”
A stronghold city was built on the fractured area of the Impassable Mountain Range.
It was also a symbol that signified the mightiness and toughness of the church.