Chapter Eleven: Testing the Limits of Space

The knocking at the door brought his mind into sharp clarity. Chen Qi sprang upright from the bed, rolling swiftly onto the floor. Who could it be?

Having barely survived a life-or-death crisis the previous night, Chen Qi was more cautious than ever; even the slightest sound set his nerves on edge. Acting out of prudence, he donned his Nightwalker’s Garment.

Under the garment’s “Silent as Shadow” effect, Chen Qi crept noiselessly into the living room, his gaze fixed intently on the wooden door. The door swung open slowly, revealing a medium-built man wearing glasses and a standard plaid shirt—a scholarly air peculiar to programmers emanated from him.

“Brother Jiang?” Chen Qi blurted out.

Jiang Zan, his roommate and university senior, had once volunteered at the orphanage where Chen Qi grew up, helping him through many difficult times. A graduate student in mechanical engineering from a prestigious university, Jiang Zan was well-liked and sociable. They had originally worked at the same company.

Six months prior, after years of singlehood, Jiang Zan made up his mind to confess to the class monitor he’d secretly admired since high school—a bid to mend the regrets of youth. Astonishingly, she accepted, and now the two were making plans to live together and marry.

To give his girlfriend a good life, Jiang Zan worked harder than ever, switching jobs three months ago to a better company where his salary quintupled. The price, however, was a noticeably more sparse head of hair.

How infuriating! Chen Qi shook his head; he’d expected a villain from some organization, or officials who had tracked him down, or perhaps a shadow beast—never Jiang Zan.

“Whoa!” Jiang Zan cried out, recoiling. He hadn’t heard Chen Qi leave his bedroom, assuming he was still asleep. But what met his eyes was Chen Qi, bloodshot and intense, far more severe than mere fatigue—like a beast lurking in the shadows.

Chen Qi realized his own readiness, a hint of murderous aura about him. He relaxed his stance, forcing a calm smile.

“Good morning, Brother Jiang.”

Jiang Zan patted his chest, breathing easier. “Morning, Qi! You nearly scared me to death.”

All night, thanks to that damned shadow beast, Chen Qi hadn’t eaten a midnight snack. Now the demon of hunger whispered incessantly in his mind. He swallowed involuntarily, glancing at Jiang Zan’s hands, which held two steaming bags of soup dumplings and two cartons of soy milk.

The aroma was irresistible—

“Ah…” As if expecting it, Jiang Zan waved his hand and smiled knowingly. “I made a special trip to that ten-year-old shop this morning. Don’t worry, there’s some for you.”

…

Chen Qi sat at the table and immediately grabbed a soup dumpling. Ravenous, he bit into it—thin, elastic skin giving way to fragrant broth mingled with savory meat, flooding his mouth with deliciousness.

Between bites, Chen Qi asked curiously, “Brother Jiang, did you notice anything unusual on your way home today? Like, any large animals?”

His mind was filled with thoughts of the New Sun game and shadow beasts.

Jiang Zan sipped his soy milk. “Unusual? Actually, yes. Let me think… This morning, I saw a university student driving a luxury car around the neighborhood. And on the way, there was a guy walking a massive Doberman through the old streets, saying he was ‘patrolling.’ Oh, and were you drenched like a drowned rat yesterday?”

Walking a huge police dog? Chen Qi took note—maybe coincidence, maybe connected to yesterday’s shadow disaster.

“Yes, the rain nearly washed me away.”

“The weather forecast says a typhoon’s coming soon, called Black Cyclone. There’ll be plenty more rainy days, so don’t forget your umbrella, and best to stay indoors.”

Jiang Zan hurried to finish his dumplings and continued, “Right, I’ve got to go. That damned job is waiting for me. My company insists on this stupid artificial intelligence efficiency project.”

Off to work so early—Chen Qi was startled. Since getting a girlfriend, Jiang Zan had become noticeably impatient. He wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I came home for my files and USB drive, and to change clothes. By the way, Qi, don’t worry about your job. I’ll see if I can help you find something, though the pay might be a bit lower than before. You know how job-hunting is these days…”

Chen Qi interrupted decisively, “No need for now, Brother Jiang. I’ve already found a pretty good job.”

Jiang Zan was surprised, sizing up Chen Qi. “Lost your job for just one day and found another this fast?”

Prepared for a job change already? Surely not some strange occupation? Jiang Zan eyed Chen Qi suspiciously, then headed to his room.

“Don’t get scammed. There are plenty of training companies out to trick newcomers these days.”

“Mm-hmm.” Chen Qi hardly listened; his mind still lingered on the shadow beast. No murder? Was I truly the only one attacked last night?

Was it really just me…

Seizing the moment, Chen Qi stowed the “concealed” Nightwalker’s Garment in his room and turned on his phone. A line of text popped up in the game.

[You have received ample rest.]
[Your health is fully restored, spiritual energy restored. Thirty minutes remain until fatigue is completely relieved.]

Chen Qi rubbed his hands together; soon, a new day’s adventure could begin.

Just then, Jiang Zan’s frustrated voice echoed from his room: “Tsk, where’s my USB drive? I swear I left it by the files just now!”

This sort of thing was common in life—something right by your side would suddenly vanish mysteriously. Even phones weren’t immune, hence smart watches offering “find my phone” features.

Losing things and not finding them was maddening; Chen Qi could clearly sense Jiang Zan’s anxiety as he searched.

Chen Qi glanced toward Jiang Zan’s room, then at the Morning Star pendant in his hand. A question formed in his mind.

Could the Morning Star’s search function be used in reality?

Among the Morning Star’s keyword descriptions was a spatial limitation—could this spatial boundary apply to “the real world”?

From yesterday’s observations, during rest, spiritual energy recovered much faster than health. Spiritual power regenerated at a rate of one point every dozen minutes.

If he used the Morning Star’s search now, his spiritual energy would be full again once rest was over.

Curious, Chen Qi asked, “What color is your USB drive?”

Jiang Zan replied anxiously, “Blue, 128GB, it’s got all my late-night work from yesterday. Wait, did I have it on me just now?”

Chen Qi picked up his phone, opened the talent menu, and entered keywords.

[Search range: real space, centered on me, 15-meter cube, blue, USB drive.]

This string specified time, space, and color.

My dear Morning Star, can you understand my description?

He tapped the button and looked at the phone—a line of text appeared.

[Morning Star paused. Is ‘centered on me’ the ‘real’ self?]
Yes.
[Reminder: This is your first time using Morning Star’s search in the real world. In any world, no one but you can observe Morning Star.]

It works in reality! Chen Qi’s heart leapt—he could treasure hunt in real life.

[Do you wish to activate Morning Star’s search?]
Confirm.
[Morning Star’s search activated. Current spiritual energy: 8/10]

At that moment, Chen Qi’s eyes widened—a palm-sized white star emerged from his wrist, flying toward the floor beside Jiang Zan’s wardrobe.

Morning Star’s trajectory was elegant, its brilliance dazzling.

“Ahem.” Chen Qi coughed lightly, eyeing Jiang Zan frantically searching his computer desk. “Little Zan, finding lost things relies on memory and deduction, not blind carpet searches. For example, didn’t you just change jackets? Based on your movements, it’s likely by your wardrobe.”

Jiang Zan, flustered by the missing item, objected, “No, no, many things are pure coincidence—completely impossible to deduce. Stop watching so many detective shows. The best way to find lost items is exhaustive search.”

Bang!

Following Morning Star’s path, Chen Qi retrieved the USB drive from beside the wardrobe and tapped Jiang Zan’s head with the blue stick.

“Huh?”

Found it so quickly!?

Jiang Zan studied Chen Qi’s confident expression—coincidence, or had detective shows actually taught him something? Either way, seeing the lost item recovered, he felt instantly relieved.

“Brilliant! I’m off to work. Good luck with your interview, Qi.”

“Farewell, Brother Jiang. Take care on the road, rest well—and mind your thinning hair.”

“You mind your dark circles…” Jiang Zan packed the USB and files into his laptop bag and rushed out.

Able to use it in the real world—perhaps there were other uses yet undiscovered...

Chen Qi watched as Morning Star followed Jiang Zan’s path, then opened his phone to continue the New Sun game.

Today’s goal remained the Land of Faint Light.

…

[The chimes of the abyssal bell echo across this land.]
[With a single toll from the Daylight Clocktower, the day blazes anew, radiant white light dispelling the filthy darkness.]
[The Laughing Moon drops from the edge of the earth, fading from sight. You understand—a new day has begun.]
[Your fatigue is lifted; health and spirit fully restored.]
[Received 1 Moon Silver wage. Current balance: 1 Daylight coin, 63 Moon Silver.]
[After handling the Night Patrol Captain’s routine tasks, you rise once more and head to the Land of Faint Light.]

…

[With the help of your Little Donkey, you arrive again at the Land of Faint Light. Today, the mist sweeps like a wild wind, the light of day dimmer than ever.]
[Holding the merchant’s map of the Land of Faint Light, you wander its barren emptiness, searching for the marked location of ‘delicacies.’]

A golden line of text flashed before Chen Qi’s eyes.

[The Lamp’s Sign is triggered.]