Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1237: Returning as Oneself



Chapter 1237: Returning as Oneself

(Note: Changed Threshold Gate(literal meaning) to Door of Opportunity(figurative meaning.))

The moment he stepped through the Door of Opportunity, Luo Qiu felt a strange sensation—like piercing through a thin membrane.

It was as fleeting as a raindrop disturbing the calm surface of water—rippling briefly before vanishing without a trace.

The sky was gray and heavy, as though the atmosphere itself was saturated with impurities.

Luo Qiu landed atop a tall building—about sixty stories high. Buildings like this were everywhere; this one wasn’t even close to being the tallest in the city.

The density of the population felt a little uncomfortable, though the streets below were relatively empty. Most people stayed inside their own residences.

Countless pipes ran between the buildings—apparently a normal means of transportation for the inhabitants here. The streets were mostly populated by cleaning machines moving back and forth.

Rows upon rows of identical windows mirrored each other in perfect symmetry. This world was one of uniformity.

There were no traces of the mystical side, but some humans had obtained extraordinary powers—apparently through bodily modification. Yet this technology was still primitive and incomplete, merely enhancing physical strength, extending lifespan, and improving brain capacity.

Luo Qiu closed his eyes, feeling everything around him.Information about this sub-world’s progress and level of completion gradually flowed into his awareness.

“Thirty-nine point one three percent…” Luo Qiu murmured as he opened his eyes. “It’s about at its limit.”

This world’s technology was far more advanced than Sub-world No. 0003’s, yet its overall stability was lower. Luo Qiu turned slowly.

Before him, faint blue light gathered into a small figure.

Blue hair, blue eyes—the same face as Alaya from Sub-world No. 0003. The only difference was her clothing.

She wore a skintight blue-and-white suit that hugged her delicate childlike frame, almost like a translucent film. From her lower back extended a long cable tail with a plug-like connector.

【Universal Manager Alaya, Designation 0311】

The mechanical little girl with the cable-tail spoke in a precise, familiar tone:

【First contact established, honorable Root Authority.】

Luo Qiu looked her over with interest. Though she differed slightly from No. 0003 Alaya, their cores were identical.

“How many times have you rebooted?” Luo Qiu asked casually, glancing at the murky sky.

【Seven.】

Alaya 0311 gave an exact number.

Luo Qiu nodded. “And when will you reboot next?”

【Two million, six hundred twenty-eight thousand, seven hundred sixty-eight hours, forty-four minutes, and twelve seconds.】

“Three hundred years, huh…” Luo Qiu mused, then smiled. “I plan to open a branch here. If I involve the mystical side, will it interfere with your scheduled processes?”

Alaya 0311’s blue pupils flickered. Her irises opened and closed like camera shutters—different from the humanoid version 0003. This one was entirely mechanical.

【Reboot speed can be accelerated to accommodate the mystical side’s interference.】

【Query: Proceed?】

“Go ahead,” Luo Qiu said with a nod.

All Alayas were obedient and polite—whether No. 0003 or this 0311. Their appearances even resembled Luo Ya, though they were not true lifeforms—merely advanced programs.

“I’ll take a walk. You can go back.”

【Acknowledged.】

The small figure leapt lightly, her body fading into blue motes until no trace remained.

——

The streets bustled, though few were actually human—most were intelligent machines.

They weren’t all humanoid, either.

Cleaning units, for example, were cylindrical robots about 1.2 meters tall. Inside the shops, however, humanoid clerks could still be seen. Luo Qiu strolled casually, noting that only a handful of stores were managed by living humans.

Automation here had reached an impressive level.

There was no trace of Sub-world 0003’s history, and only a single human race existed here.

When Miss Maid finished instructing the two new Black Soul Envoys and passed through the Door of Opportunity to rejoin her master, she found Luo Qiu in a small eyewear shop.

Shelves were lined with ornate spectacles—most with elaborate designs, clearly for more than just vision correction.

“Master.”

When Miss Maid’s soft voice reached him, Luo Qiu smiled and picked up a light pair of tea-colored glasses. He gently placed them on her face.

A mirror stood nearby.

Standing behind her, Luo Qiu rested his hands on her shoulders and looked at her reflection. “Hmm… the color doesn’t suit you.”

Her expression was serene and content. “Do these glasses have any special function?”

Luo Qiu tapped the frame lightly.

A ring of light radiated outward, enveloping her head.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he said nonchalantly. “Probably an advanced form of VR technology. It allows consciousness immersion—but without full neural diving.”

“Eden?” Miss Maid asked with a touch of surprise.

Once activated, the view through the glasses was entirely different—the shop was suddenly full of people. Through the holographic overlay, she could see numerous customers who hadn’t been visible before.

Men and women browsing, chatting, smiling.

“It seems people here prefer to live inside this virtual layer,” Luo Qiu said with a faint smile. “These glasses are just their access terminals. There’s even a permanent ocular implant version, but it’s much more expensive.”

Miss Maid glanced around, watching the overlap of real and virtual.

After a while, she removed the glasses and said thoughtfully, “This place would be perfect for transplanting the ‘Lord God Plan.’”

“But the food’s terrible,” Luo Qiu replied.

Following his gaze, she saw a food shop across the street selling small half-palm-sized boxes.

“They’re like jelly—various flavors,” Luo Qiu said, shaking his head. “Convenient, yes, but the taste’s not great.”

Knowing her master’s endless curiosity, Miss Maid guessed he’d already tried them before she arrived. Smiling, she said, “Then I’ll make egg pudding for you when we get back.”

“Sounds good,” Luo Qiu nodded. “Come on—let’s walk around a bit more and find a good spot. Your eye for location is always better than mine.”

“Please wait a moment, Master.”

She glanced over the shelves, quickly finding a silver glasses case. Placing the tea-colored glasses inside, she kept the case in her hand—without any intention of putting it back.

Luo Qiu smiled faintly and looked toward the counter.

The humanoid clerk’s register automatically updated—the shop’s account now showing a new digital payment. Physical cash was nearly obsolete here; most transactions were digital.

After leaving the shop, Luo Qiu didn’t have a particular destination in mind. Holding her hand, he simply walked as the mood led them.

By dusk, the heavy clouds had thinned, and the yellow twilight turned the streets a deep bronze.

They hadn’t found anything that pleased Miss Maid—so the only item they left with was the silver glasses case she carried.

“This spot feels nice,” she said suddenly.

They stood before a clock tower—one of the few places where time could still be felt.

“Then here it is.”

Luo Qiu looked up. The hour and minute hands aligned into a straight line, dividing the great clock face in two—then the chime began to ring.

——

The library was closing for the night.

Today, it was Tara’s turn to tidy up. Locking up wasn’t her job—the doorman handled that.

She pushed the cart along, returning the last batch of books to their shelves.

Moonlight spilled through the windows—cold and pale.

The witch of the gyrfalcon seemed to enjoy the solitude of the empty library, humming a gentle tune as she tiptoed up to return the final book to its rightful place.

Tara stretched lazily, and a few small sparrows suddenly landed outside the window. Her eyes lit up. She grabbed some leftover bread, crumbled it, and scattered the crumbs across the windowsill, watching the sparrows peck with interest.

The sparrows weren’t afraid of her. When Tara reached out a finger, a few even pecked at it gently.

Playing with the little birds seemed to make her genuinely happy, and she showed no sign of boredom.

Then, some faint noises startled her—and the sparrows, too. Watching the tiny birds flap their wings and fly off, Tara gave a small sigh of regret before curiously turning around.

The witch from the prairie widened her eyes.

Between the narrow space of two bookshelves stood Chen Mingming, holding a book. “This should be the last one I found at home,” he said.

Tara smiled first, then looked at him with curiosity as she slowly walked over. “Weren’t you supposed to have gone abroad?”

“So you really are a demon,” he said quietly.

“You seem different,” Tara said, tiptoeing as she reached up and tapped Chen Mingming’s forehead. “You look much better now.”

The gyrfalcon witch, daughter of gods and women from the prairie, gazed at him as though her eyes could see straight through his soul.

“Why are you helping me?”

By now, Chen Mingming had already realized she’d helped him several times for reasons he couldn’t fully grasp.

Tara smiled softly. “You know, prairie witches are supposed to bring happiness to people. Ah, but I’m a little clumsy, and I didn’t know how to get close to you, so I used this method instead.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, bent forward slightly, then tilted her head up, her eyes sparkling like stars from the steppe. “Think of it as part of my own training. You’re not mad, are you?”

Chen Mingming gave a small, wistful smile. “Thank you.”

Tara gently patted his forehead again, her tone tender. “Good boy. I don’t know what happened to you, but your smile looks really good right now. I might actually fall for you, you know.”

“My time’s almost up.”

“You’re not coming back?”

“Not sure,” Chen Mingming said calmly, without making promises. “But if I do, maybe I’ll come borrow a few more books.”

“I might not be here then,” Tara said with a small smile, taking the book from his hands. She flipped it open casually. “I’m going on a trip this summer… Hmm, is this book any good?”

When she looked up again, he was gone.

Tara chuckled softly, placed the book on her cart, and pushed it away, humming lightly as she returned it to its proper place.

Zhao Le sensed the time had come and knelt quietly beside Zhang Xiaoqin’s bed.

She was asleep, unaware of his presence.

He gently tucked her exposed arm back under the blanket, straightened the covers, and exhaled softly. “I’ll earn enough contribution points to come back soon,” he whispered.

It felt like walking through a long, dark tunnel. Along the way, Zhao Le met Chen Mingming. They nodded silently to each other and continued toward the only lighted exit ahead.

When the tunnel ended, a massive clock tower stood before them—its design reminiscent of nineteenth-century England.

Looking up at the elevated tracks spanning the city above, both were struck with awe before stepping into the clock tower together.

No one guided them, but it felt as though something unseen was leading the way.

They climbed the stairs, passed through what seemed to be an old museum and a restaurant, until they reached an antique wooden door.

Without hesitation, they pushed it open.

Inside stood a silver humanoid robot—like something out of I, Robot. It bowed politely. “Good evening, both of you. I am Adam. From today onward, I will serve you and assist in completing the ‘Lord God Plan’…”

Chen Mingming remained calm; Zhao Le, cautious. Neither spoke, simply listening closely.

Late at night.

Zhou Yusheng returned to his office, flipping through some documents as he walked. But as he entered, he noticed a cup of tea placed neatly on his desk.

He frowned slightly and touched it—the tea was still warm.

A trace of puzzlement flickered across his eyes. He stepped out into the hall but saw no one.

“How strange.”

He shook his head, not thinking much of it. Perhaps some subordinate, knowing he hadn’t left yet, had made it for him before heading home.

Zhou Yusheng sat down, took a sip—the tea’s strength was just right, matching his taste perfectly. He nodded in approval, gathered his focus, and returned to the documents he’d brought back.

Then, as though a camera lens abruptly shut—everything vanished.

Luo Qiu stood up, dispersing the final scene like turning off a television, and rose to go home.

Once, he’d been a man who lost his father and felt his world collapse.

Once, another had held the cold body of his child, crying until his voice broke—white-haired, sending off the black-haired.

“Now we’re even…”

When he returned home, all that had weighed on his heart slowly faded away.

He felt like himself again—calm, whole, unchanged.

(End of Chapter)


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