Chapter Three: The Invasion Space Descends

The television hanging midair in the Sha County snack shop was working diligently. The program on the screen was an adventure show.

A bald, fair-skinned explorer was traversing the area, stopping along the way to observe a tribal hunt. The wild men brandished spears, preserved fire, adorned their heads with feathers, and feasted on raw flesh—their lives utterly free and joyful. After the hunt came mating, day after day, year after year.

As the bald explorer took his leave, he spoke with a pronounced sense of superiority: “They are indeed happy and free, but just like their food and dwellings, I—a civilized man from the city—could never enjoy such freedom or happiness.”

When these words echoed through the small restaurant, Lan Yi glanced down at the bowl of pork bone broth dumplings before him, every last drop consumed.

Twenty years. He had finally tasted this familiar flavor again.

There were no superhuman senses, no stimulation from neural clusters—just the simple satisfaction and happiness produced by an ordinary person’s five senses. Primitive compared to the chemical ecstasies he once knew, yet it was a taste that haunted his soul, one he would seize any chance to savor again.

He had no idea who had inserted a coin when the game of life was nearing a bad ending, when it was almost over.

The game asked if he wanted to continue.

Lan Yi’s answer, of course, was: yes!

“If someone has put in another coin, then let’s try for a good ending this time.”

Inside the shop, Lan Yi waited as the final countdown to the arrival of the Battleground Space began. Outside, on the street, Ji Ning and Zhang Shouzheng were locked in heated debate.

“Why don’t we keep trying? He clearly doesn’t object to our efforts. If we can win his support, we can mend more regrets, correct more mistakes, prevent more losses,” Zhang Shouzheng pressed, baffled by Ji Ning’s insistence that he leave.

Precious little time remained.

“He just watched the television,” Ji Ning said coolly.

“He’s been watching TV this whole time—” Zhang began, then fell silent.

“The neural cluster, the auxiliary brain, the AI—everything’s gone. We’ve become reckless and uneasy, trapped once more in the snare of chaotic probability. Perhaps, to him, we’re nothing more than those primitive men who eat their food raw and bloody.” Ji Ning seemed to have reached some epiphany. He spread his arms, a sense of relief washing over him as he removed his earpiece.

“They’re just uncivilized savages,” Zhang Shouzheng retorted instinctively.

“Yes, they’re all uncivilized savages. The whole world is moving forward, relentlessly, by any means necessary. If we, just because we’re reborn, choose to stand still, then in Lan Yi’s eyes, we’re no different from savages.”

Zhang Shouzheng said nothing more.

Ever since learning of the reborn and the coming upheaval, a significant number of people wished to maintain control—to dominate the Battleground Space and the psychics. Their justifications were righteous and unassailable, but who knew what truly lay in their hearts… Zhang Shouzheng himself had felt an urge to sweep them all away.

“Look on the bright side. At least we’ve already undone half of the greatest regret of the future,” Ji Ning said with genuine optimism.

The greatest injustice in the New Era was Lan Yi.

Especially after he began destroying the world.

Many who had pored over Lan Yi’s files wished they could travel back in time and wring the necks of those vermin who had driven a gentle, good-natured worker to take up arms and massacre. Was it really so hard to let others live?

“As long as we fully understand why Lan Yi tried to destroy the world, the greatest regret of the future will be nearly resolved.”

“It’s almost time.”

“I need to prepare for my first trial in the Artificial Divine Realm. Let’s all do our best. Don’t forget the applications from the Amarikans and the Dongyang embassy today. The conditions for rebirth aren’t exclusive to the Xinghan people.” Ji Ning patted Zhang Shouzheng’s shoulder.

The sweltering summer wind blew incessantly.

Prosperity, peace, refinement, and elegance—these were always the main themes of the Magic City. The weather was clear, not a cloud in the sky, skyscrapers soaring, the bustling metropolis unchanged.

Yet in the next instant, this beautiful everyday scene was shattered by a piercing alarm.

Sudden air raid sirens rose in waves—within seconds, the entire Magic City rang with their wails. For the Xinghan people, long at peace, the sound brought only confusion. Many, upon hearing the continuous blare, were at a loss; even those who understood thought it was just a drill, not an actual air raid or outbreak of war.

But soon, information from televisions, phones, radios, and computers confirmed that this was no mistake, no exercise.

This world was a ramshackle troupe, and now everyone was ordered to halt all activities and remain where they stood—a simple command, but fraught with difficulty. Even with warnings from reborn individuals and prior arrangements, humans themselves are unpredictable; otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many absurd, laughable accidents.

Again and again, reminders, warnings, arrangements—tireless, relentless, a bombardment of information.

But even with all this preparation!

What would happen ten seconds from now would still cause countless accidents.

Any small incident—say, a sudden muscle spasm in the arm—would be a catastrophe if it struck all 8.4 billion people at once.

Perhaps a construction worker atop a high-rise in India would lose his grip on a steel beam, sending it plummeting from hundreds of meters above due to an unexpected jolt.

Perhaps a truck driver on the Florida highway in Amarik was cruising steadily, when a sudden shock sent his steering wheel spinning out of control.

Perhaps a soldier on the front lines of Iceburg, defusing a landmine for an unlucky comrade, would have his steady hands suddenly tremble under the mental assault, triggering the detonator.

Ten, nine, eight…

Lan Yi spent three seconds recalling his first trial in the Artificial Divine Realm. He remembered—the background was set in the early modern era.

Six, five, four…

Because of quantum entanglement across dimensional membranes, that Artificial Divine Realm shared many similarities with the story of a certain number one in Tianjin—rescue and survival, unyielding self-improvement, a single rallying cry inspiring millions to a common cause. Unforgettable, indeed.

Three, two, one…

That world happened to have a neural cluster he could use. The progress of assembling his Fate Diagram should advance rapidly.

In the year 2050, July 11th, in the Milky Way Galaxy, on the Perseus Arm, the Solar System, Earth.

The Battleground Space descends!

Like breathing, like drinking water, like opening one’s eyes—in that moment, every person on Earth felt it: they now possessed a new organ, one that integrated itself into the mind as naturally as if it had always been there.