Chapter 659: Rules of the Dream World
The Dream World had absorbed every loser from the Soul Battlefield. No one in it thought twice about grey eyes or unusual hair; people of every feature and coloring moved through the lanes without remark.
Roland himself had long grey hair, pale grey eyes, and a nose bridge that would have drawn stares anywhere he’d lived before. Here he was ordinary.
Young men rushed past under the lane’s morning shade, newspapers folded under one arm, briefcases under the other, dough sticks half-eaten in their mouths, catching buses. Elderly residents gathered on the open square in front of the apartment building — morning exercises, limbs moving slowly through practiced forms, or chess boards laid out on low tables, waiting for partners. Cicadas, the sounds of early commuters, the small voices of babies and hucksters, the distant chanting of students reading aloud — all of it woven together by the morning air into something specific to this place, a sound that belonged to tube-shaped apartment buildings built in another era.
Roland found himself reluctant to look away from it.
A woman appeared at the far end of the lane, running.
He nearly dropped his chopsticks.
Garcia Wimbledon — hair bound back, light sportswear, white thighs bare below the shorts, a towel around her neck. Sweat had soaked her collar; her arms glistened. She must have been running for some time already. She moved through the lane at a pace that parted the morning crowd, and the morning crowd watched her as though a specific event had arrived.
People stopped. People whistled. People pressed together for a better view.
Garcia did not acknowledge any of it. She ran clean through the lane like something passing over water and disappeared into the apartment building’s corridor entrance.
Inside the restaurant, someone exhaled. “That’s Garcia.”
“See? I told you — get up early and you’ll see her. She runs for an hour out here whenever the weather’s good.”
“First time I’ve seen a TV star.”
“She looks better than on TV.”
“Garcia’s got a big match coming up.”
“She’ll win. She always wins. She’s a genius.”
The table settled into animated discussion. Roland sat at the center of it, dumbfounded, and said nothing.
He waited until the owner came to collect the bowl, then paid and asked: “That woman — is she well known here?”
The owner looked at him with something approaching pity. “You’re not from around here, right? Who on Tongzi Street doesn’t know Miss Garcia?”
“I just moved in recently. What does she do?”
“She’s a martial fighter.”
Roland managed not to spit his remaining soup across the table. He pressed a napkin to his mouth. “A — what?”
“Go watch TV. She’s the most famous person in this whole block. Lot of reasons we can still live here, and she’s a big one.”
“Why?”
The owner pointed somewhere behind Roland. He turned.
On the wall opposite — large enough that he couldn’t believe he’d missed it on the way in — a single character: Removal.
“House demolition,” the owner said. “Some development company’s been trying to pull down all of Tongzi Street. Says the neighborhood is outdated, an eyesore in a downtown zone. Nonsense — it’s a cultural heritage building, every wall of it.” He searched his apron pocket for change. “They wanted to relocate all of us to the suburbs. Garcia went on television, exposed the whole scheme, brought in public support. Without her, we’d already be gone.”
“That really is — an outrage,” Roland said.
“That’s why we’re all her people.” The owner pressed the change into his palm. “You’re Tongzi Street now, friend. You’ll be her fan soon enough.”
Roland walked back to the apartment trying to arrange his thoughts, which were not arranging easily.
Martial fighter. Some new competitive sport, apparently, with an organization behind it and enough public profile that his sister was a neighborhood celebrity. And the apartment building was in danger of being demolished — which meant the spaces inside it, the doors connecting to memory fragments, the entire architecture of the Dream World, might have a structural threat he hadn’t anticipated.
And he owed Garcia for the fact that he could continue to live here.
He rode these impressions up to apartment 0825 and opened the door.
Zero had just emerged from her bedroom — hair in every direction, dress wrinkled, one shoulder exposed where the neckline had slipped. She looked at him with sleepy confusion.
“Uncle — you’re up? I’ll start breakfast.”
“No need. I ate already. I brought something.” He set the omelet, dumplings, and milk on the table and turned on the television.
She sat and looked at the food, then at him, with the expression of someone whose morning expectations had been exceeded. “Why are you getting up early now?”
“I have work. The job pays. Zero — your parents’ transfer came through, and my first salary arrived. We’re fine for now.”
“Spend carefully. Things are unpredictable.” She began eating with speed that contradicted the advice. “Don’t let what’s in the fridge go to waste before you buy more.”
“Do you know Garcia?” he asked.
She looked up. “Of course I do. Sister Garcia joined the Martialist Association at twenty and hasn’t lost a preliminary match yet. All my classmates treat her as an idol.” A brief pause for a dumpling. “I don’t really see the appeal of watching people hit each other on a stage. But she’s obviously talented.”
Sister Garcia. Uncle Roland. He set the mild irritation aside. “Are there many martial fighters?”
“Very few.” Her look said she considered this common knowledge he should already have. “Uncle, don’t get any ideas. You can’t just decide to become one. Only people who awaken with Force of Nature can even try. And awakening is only the starting point — without discipline and commitment, an awakened person just ends up as someone’s tool, causing trouble for everyone around them. Our teacher explained it.”
“Your teacher seems to know quite a bit about them.”
“He said it’s important for us to understand the difference between actually being useful and daydreaming about having power.” She picked up her schoolbag. “I have a full day. Bye.”
The door closed.
Roland sat with the flat of his hand open, feeling the warmth that moved in it like a slow current, something deep-running and patient.
Force of Nature.
He had planned to spend the day in the school library. Now he had a different idea.
Chapter 659: Rules of the Dream World
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Apparently, the Dream World had accepted all the losers in the Soul Battlefield, as no one in this world found it strange seeing their various hair colors and different facial features.
For example, Roland himself had long gray hair, light gray eyes and a straight nose with a high nose bridge, which would attract all the attention when he walked in the streets of the community where he had lived in modern times.
However, in this world, all these strange looking people lived just like the common ones. On their way to catch buses, young men were rushing about with their newspapers and briefcases under their arms, while chewing deepfried dough sticks. Elderly people gathered in twos and threes on the open space in front of the apartment building. Some were moving their limbs and doing their morning exercises. Some laid out Chinese chess boards, ready to play with their friends.
The chirping of cicadas, the city noises and the sounds of morning reading, babies crying and hucksters shouting were all wafted to his ears by the morning breeze, creating a characteristic symphony of the tube-shaped apartment building.
Roland cherished the scene which was full of life.
Right at this moment, a woman running along the lane was getting near to him.
Seeing this woman, Roland nearly dropped his chopsticks involuntarily. To his great surprise, she was Garcia Wimbledon.
She tied her hair up and wore light sportswear, baring her white thighs and hanging a towel around her neck. Her sweat had soaked her collar and
pinpricks of sweat covered her arms. She must have been running for quite a long time.
He was more surprised seeing all the people in the lane fixing their eyes on her and some even whistling at her. These people looked so excited as if they were looking at a star.
However, Garcia did not give a fig to the crowd. She continued running through the lane as fast as the wind and disappeared into the corridor entrance of the apartment building.
“That’s Garcia!” someone in the rice noodle restaurant exclaimed.
“Now you believe what I told you. If you get up early, you’ll get the chance to see her. As long as the weather is good, she’ll run for an hour here.”
“It’s the first time for me to meet a TV star.”
“She looks much better than on TV.”
“Oh yeah, Garcia will have an important match very soon.”
“I’ll support her anyway. I hope that she’ll win the final.”
“Of course, she will. She’s such a genius!”
Everybody was talking about her, leaving Roland dumbfounded. He wondered why all the residents here were so familiar with Garcia and what the match they were talking about was. He thought, “is she a rising sports star or something?”
To confirm his guess, he took out his wallet after drinking all the remaining soup in his bowl and asked the owner when he came over to clean the table, “what was going on? Is that woman famous?”
The owner looked at him in disbelief, saying, “you’re not living here, right? Who in this Tongzi Street doesn’t know Miss Garcia?”
Hearing this, he became even more curious and said to the owner, “I’ve just moved in recently. What does she do?”
“She’s a martial fighter!”
“Pfft.” Roland nearly spat in the owner’s face. “Ahem… what?”
“Come on, go to watch TV by yourself. She’s the most famous person in this area, and it’s because of her that we can continue to live here.”
“Why?”
The owner pointed somewhere behind Roland and said, “look there.”
He turned around and noticed something he had missed when he had come here. On the wall opposite to this restaurant, there was a big word saying “Removal”.
“House removal?”
“Yes, some development company has long wanted to pull down the whole Tongzi Street to build a new skyscraper here. That company said that this block was too old and unsightly for a downtown zone. Bullshit, it’s clearly a cultural relic building!” The owner sighed while searching his bag for Roland’s change. “Those guys want to relocate us all to the suburbs. If Garcia didn’t expose their plot on TV and gain wide support for us, the developer would start to drive us away at this moment.”
Roland’s mouth twisted. “That’s really… an outrage.”
“That’s why all of us support Miss Garcia.” The owner smiled and tamped the change into his hand. “Since you’re now a member of the Tongzi Street, you’ll become her fan soon!”
…
Roland understood that the Dream World might use some incredible methods to piece together irrelevant memory fragments, but what had happened just now was too bizarre to believe.
What’s a martial fighter? Some new Olympic event?
And demolition of Apartment of Souls? No kidding! All the doors connected to the memory fragments are here in the building, and so is the creator of this world!
And I have to thank my elder sister for making it possible for me to live here?
With complicated feelings, he returned to his No. 0825 apartment, and Zero happened to get out of her bedroom with sleepy eyes.
Her hair was in a mess and her dress was wrinkled. One side of the dress’s neckline dropped down, revealing half of her shoulder. She said, “uncle, you get up? I’ll go to make breakfast right now.”
“No, I’ve had breakfast and I bring you something to eat.”
He put the omelet, steamed pork dumplings and milk he bought on the table and then turned on the television.
With a puzzled expression on her face, she sat by the table and asked, “why do you get up so early recently?”
“I told you that I got a job, so I can’t sleep late in the morning anymore. You parents remitted your living expenses to me, and my company paid me my first month’s salary. We don’t have to worry about money for now.”
“Use your money wisely. Who knows how long will it last. Besides, we haven’t finished the food stored in the refrigerator yet.” Having said that, Zero still quickly devoured her breakfast.
Roland asked her, “by the way, do you know Garcia?”
She twitched her mouth and said, “of course, sister Garcia is such a talent. She joined Martialist Association at the age of 20, and I heard that she held an unbeaten record in the preliminaries. All my classmates regard her as an idol, but I think it’s boring to watch this kind of fighting matches on the stage. ”
Though he was a little bothered by the fact that he was called uncle while Garcia was called sister, he still put this aside and focused on what he wanted to investigate. Based on what the little girl had said just now, the martial fighters in this world even formed their own organization.
He asked, “are there… many martial fighters?”
“There are only a few.” Zero darted a look of disapproval at him. “Uncle, please stop thinking about it. Not everyone has such a talent. Only those awakening with Force of Nature will get the chance to become martial fighters, and awakening is just the basic requirement. Without determination and perseverance, even an awakened talent will become a puppet of some great power and bring troubles to the people. ”
“Uhm… how do you know so much about them?”
“Our teacher told us. He also said that as compared to imagining ourselves becoming martial fighters, we’d better do more exercises and try to become useful people for the community.” She went to the bathroom to get washed and then walked to the door carrying her schoolbag. “I’ve got a full day today, bye.”
When Zero left, Roland opened his hand, feeling the strange power in it.
Is this Force of Nature?
His interest in the Dream World increased dramatically. The “puppet of great power” somehow reminded him of a magic power bite. He wondered how this world integrated all the devoured memories and what the rules behind it were.
He had planned to go to the library of the school.
However, now he had a new idea.