Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1224: The Text Message

Facing the approaching burly man, the young man known as 24 did the first thing that came to mind—he moved the thick book that had been pressed over his cup noodles… because it was ready to eat.

“It smells so good…” 24 stirred the noodles with his fork, looking utterly content.

The strong, chemically synthesized aroma instantly filled the small underground room of barely ten square meters. Though often called junk food, the power of this chemical meal to stimulate the human senses was almost magical.

Sitting nearby, Cheng Yun instinctively swallowed a mouthful of saliva. The smell brought back memories of his own days of poverty. “Wait—let him finish eating first.”

The burly man looked back in surprise but didn’t protest, merely nodding and stepping aside.

24 glanced at Cheng Yun in mild surprise but said nothing more as he started eating.

“So, your boss must be pretty rich—or powerful, right?” 24 asked while slurping the noodles.

Cheng Yun only gave a faint, proud smile. In front of his employer, Young Master Zhong, the so-called “second generation rich kids” of society were nothing but trash. Even the tycoons who appeared on public wealth lists could only be considered equals at best. That was the true foundation of a Beijing aristocratic family.

“I see.” 24 nodded and looked at the three burly men behind Cheng Yun. “You said your boss is looking for capable people… what exactly does he want to do?”

“You’ll find out once you prove yourself,” Cheng Yun said calmly.These past few months, under Young Master Zhong’s orders, Cheng Yun had searched high and low for people with special abilities—but after half a year, most he’d found were just martial artists. Skilled fighters, sure, maybe even with some experience against trained soldiers, but still not what Young Master Zhong wanted.

Only recently had they found someone named Master Chen Er, whose feng shui formations seemed to actually work in addition to his impressive martial arts—especially his leg techniques. After Chen Er privately set up a “Peach Blossom Formation” for Cheng Yun, he had indeed found himself surrounded by a streak of romantic encounters.

Many wealthy people respected gods and spirits and believed in feng shui. In southern China, it wasn’t unusual for the rich to travel to Southeast Asian countries to seek blessings or dabble in spells—particularly in Hong Kong and Taiwan, where such beliefs were even stronger. Some went as far as learning supposed voodoo or “cursing” arts.

Cheng Yun himself had always been half a skeptic. Even though his boss had become obsessed with these matters over the past six months, he had quietly scoffed at it all—until three days ago.

Three days ago, the research institute his boss had poured a massive investment into finally produced results.

He had personally witnessed a boy, not even nine years old, levitate several dice in midair without any outside help.

From that day onward, Cheng Yun’s skepticism was gone, replaced with awe. If such powers truly existed, then his boss’s obsession was justified.

It was said that the 21st century was an age of talent warfare—but a child who could make dice float was a new kind of talent!

If they could uncover the mystery behind this power and master it… it would mean nothing short of a revolution for the entire world.

The thought alone excited Cheng Yun. Looking at 24 now, he found himself hoping this disheveled, lifeless-looking man might bring him another surprise.

He couldn’t be blamed for being direct—after half a year of running into countless charlatans, politeness had worn thin. Rough but effective methods were simply more reliable.

“Alright… take me to meet your boss,” 24 said after draining the last bit of soup from his cup. He coughed twice, wobbling slightly as he stood.

Cheng Yun blinked, having drifted off in thought. Coming to, he frowned. “I don’t think you understand me. You’ll need to prove your skill fir—”

Then he froze. Something felt wrong—too quiet. Way too quiet.

He turned sharply, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

The three men he’d brought—his most seasoned fighters—stood rigid, eyes wide with terror. Black shadowy ropes were coiled tightly around them like mummies, even sealing their mouths shut!

“Can we go now… cough cough.”

With 24’s soft cough, the dark ropes loosened, melting away into a cloud of shadow before merging into the form of a black crow, which fluttered onto his shoulder.

Oh my god… this guy’s the real deal!

Cheng Yun’s heart raced, shock no less than when he’d seen the levitating boy. As a seasoned “gold-ranked” enforcer, he knew exactly how to respond.

“Great Master! You truly have real power!” Cheng Yun took a deep breath and bowed deeply. “Please forgive my ignorance—I failed to recognize your greatness! My boss will be honored to meet someone like you!”

“Then let’s go… cough cough.” 24 nodded calmly.

He figured that in this strange new world, stumbling around blindly was no way to survive. Better to attach himself to a local power—follow the flow, ride the tide. That was how most strong ones thrived.

He reached for his coat on the hanger and tried to swing it on, but the movement tugged at his ribs, sending a sharp pain through his side. He dropped to one knee, coughing violently—blood flecks splattering the floor.

Cheng Yun froze. Is this guy going to die on me?

…

Meanwhile, Nan Xiaonan had long given up letting the “compressor” move on its own. Instead, she stuffed it into a bag and carried it herself.

The Star Creation ritual had granted it a brief life, and by extension, access to its stored memories. But finding the person who had used it—in a vast city of millions—was far from easy.

Still, that didn’t trouble her. She had been an Immortal King once, after all.

Thankfully, her afternoon of cultivation had recovered about 0.05 units of power—enough to use a few practical techniques again.

—Baby, Come Home.

That was the name of the spell she used. It could make an object return to its owner. In her original world, it was developed to help find lost items—though few used it for expensive possessions.

“It works.”

Watching the “compressor” indicate a direction, Nan Xiaonan nodded to herself. It confirmed her long-standing theory—one shared by many Immortals who had traversed the flow of time and space.

That was the commonality between subworlds.

Why could Immortals from different subworlds manifest their powers by analyzing local rules? Why could they even understand the rules of other subworlds?

Endless journeys through time and space had given her ample opportunity to meet many such beings—and to debate this question endlessly.

Perhaps all the countless subworlds shared a deeper, underlying structure—a core system that contained every law: magic, technology, energy manipulation… everything.

Each subworld, each civilization, was merely one fragment of that infinite core—each expressing a part of the whole, perhaps to complete something greater.

What that “something” was, no one yet knew. Or perhaps someone did—but she hadn’t met them.

Then she thought of Luo Qiu.

If he could so effortlessly bend a world’s will to his command… could it be that he already possessed a portion of that core?

“Could that be the true direction of exploring the Origin itself?” she murmured.

Where is the Origin? How should one search for the source of the infinite sub-worlds? Countless immortals have explored the flow of time and space, yet so many have lost themselves in the River of Time—until they finally perished and vanished within it, leaving no trace behind. Some may have fallen, others may have gone mad.

But never had she heard of anyone like Mr. Luo Qiu—someone who could command the very rules of a sub-world to serve him...

“Could he have come from the Origin itself?!”

Nan Xiaonan suddenly froze. Vaguely, she sensed something she had never experienced before—a feeling of fear… something even deeper than a sub-world’s will.

In that single instant, Nan Xiaonan felt as if she had been frozen in ice for a thousand years, struggling in a vast vortex of darkness for countless ages… When she finally came back to her senses, only a few seconds had passed.

She took a deep breath. Her entire body was drenched in cold sweat. The spiritual power she had already been lacking had now fallen to rock bottom—utterly depleted.

“Uh… what was I doing again?”

Nan Xiaonan blinked in confusion, glancing around. She could feel that something important had slipped from her memory within those few seconds. A shiver ran down her spine. Reverence and unease welled up in her heart—but as she focused, she realized there was no danger nearby. And since Mr. Luo Qiu had granted her an official identity in this sub-world, she had always felt completely at ease here, as though a fish in water.

“Hmm, have I found it already?”

Just then, the bag containing the compressor began to shake. Nan Xiaonan raised her head and looked at the building before her—it was an old apartment block from two or three decades ago, without even an elevator.

At that moment, a taxi slowly pulled up in front of the building.

A young man, around eighteen or nineteen, wearing glasses and holding a cane, stepped out first. He then carefully helped a woman with limited mobility get out from the other side.

Watching the young man assist the woman up the stairs, Nan Xiaonan stepped out of the shadows and muttered, “So this young man is the one who used you?”

She frowned slightly—he looked familiar.

Even though her spiritual energy was weak, her powerful memory quickly reminded her where she had seen this young man before.

In the task force’s case files.

“Zhao Le.”

Reciting the name softly, Nan Xiaonan fell into thought.

…

…

“I’ll go get some water.”

In the conference room, Zhou Yusheng rubbed his temples and stood up. The others didn’t pay attention—they were busy analyzing the case.

Zhou Yusheng entered the break room and saw Chen Mingming lying on the table, fast asleep. He hesitated for a moment, then, unable to wake him, gently draped a jacket over his shoulders.

“…Did I fall asleep?”

Even with such soft movements, Chen Mingming stirred awake.

“If you’re tired, rest for a bit,” Zhou Yusheng said with a small nod, patting his shoulder.

Chen Mingming shook his head. “Didn’t think I’d actually doze off. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“You’ve been doing great,” Zhou Yusheng said with a smile. “If it weren’t for your bold hypothesis this morning, we wouldn’t have made such progress.”

Chen Mingming nodded slowly. “I’ll wash my face and be right back.”

Zhou Yusheng suddenly said, “You know, it’s been a long time since either of us took a break. Once this case is over, let’s take a vacation—maybe a short trip? You haven’t spent much time with your mother lately.”

Chen Mingming froze, seeing the hopeful look on Zhou Yusheng’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “Alright. Once the case is solved.”

“Then I’ll go back first,” Zhou Yusheng said as he walked out of the break room.

Chen Mingming took a deep breath and watched him leave, then shook his head. Even if the case were solved, there were only two days left in the evaluation period. After that, their relationship would naturally return to what it was before…

He felt a faint irritation.

Ding—!

The sound of a text message broke the silence.

He glanced at his phone.

—Dear passenger, flight CZ12341, Business Class, March 14… Please proceed to check-in counter X at the airport 45 minutes before departure.

That was his original flight out of the country. He frowned—so that part hadn’t been altered.

He sighed and opened his flight booking app. Since he’d received the message, his mother must have too… He wondered how she felt upon seeing it.

But there was no time to be distracted.

“Hm?”

He frowned again.

In the app’s message log, he noticed a long list of successful ticket purchases.

December 3 – City X…

December 6 – City HK…

December 15 – City PP…

…

There were over a dozen such records.

Chen Mingming’s pupils constricted sharply. His face turned pale.

“December 3… City X… What on earth was I…”

(End of Chapter)