Chapter 561 - 551: Sound Source Pollution 3

The city remained bustling at night.

Moira Lynch found a food street and was immediately captivated by the dazzling array of snacks.

She bought a little something from any stall that caught her eye. If she found something she really liked, she’d buy a lot more to save for later.

As she walked through the crowd, Moira Lynch noticed many people wearing different styles of headphones.

’Looks like getting headphones is on tomorrow’s agenda,’ she thought to herself.

’But the pair I saw earlier was just too expensive. Not a good deal.’

’The money for that one pair could buy several other models.’

Spotting a long line in front of one stall, Moira Lynch curiously edged closer for a look. They were selling specialty cakes, each so exquisitely crafted it looked like a work of art.

As for the taste, with so many people lining up, it had to be good.

She had explored most of the street anyway, so Moira Lynch happily got in at the end of the line.

While waiting in line, she overheard the conversation of the people in front of her.

"Your exam is coming up, isn’t it? How has your vocal practice been going?"

The question was directed at a girl in a sweatshirt with her hair in a ponytail.

The girl shook her head, looking troubled. "Not great. I haven’t been able to practice at all lately because I can’t book a soundproof room."

"I don’t know what’s going on. Lately, all the soundproof rooms in the city are either broken and under repair or completely booked every day. You can’t get one even if you offer to pay more."

"If you can’t book one, why not just practice at home? I remember you have a small soundproof room at your house," the other girl said.

At the mention of this, the ponytail girl looked even more distressed. "Don’t get me started. I thought the same thing at first—if I can’t book a room, I’ll just practice at home. But lately, for some reason, whenever I start practicing, someone comes knocking on my door within ten minutes, saying I’m disturbing them. Someone even started flaming me directly in the residents’ group chat."

"Could there be something wrong with your soundproof room at home?" the other girl asked.

"No, I had it checked several times, and there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s too late to renovate now, anyway. I’m afraid I’m toast for this exam," the ponytail girl said, completely dejected.

Moira Lynch listened to their conversation, her curiosity piqued by these "soundproof rooms" they mentioned.

’What are those?’

However, Moira Lynch’s attention was quickly drawn to something else.

’Is that... a phone?’

She watched as the ponytail girl in front of her lightly tapped something on her wrist, and a palm-sized, transparent blue screen materialized in her hand.

The ponytail girl didn’t notice Moira Lynch’s gaze, sharing something with her friend as if they were the only ones there.

It seemed to be a funny video, as both of them were laughing happily.

Seeing this, Moira Lynch mentally added "buy one of those phone-like things" to her shopping list.

After about fifteen minutes, it was finally Moira Lynch’s turn.

There were over a dozen kinds of cake, all in flavors she had never seen before.

So, Moira Lynch decided to buy one of each.

Seeing Moira Lynch ask for one of each, the stall owner offered a kind reminder. "Miss, our desserts are very high in calories and quite filling. If you buy this many all at once, they’ll spoil if you can’t finish them. Even if you keep them in the fridge, the texture won’t be nearly as good once they’re past their peak."

In response to the owner’s kind warning, Moira Lynch just smiled and said, "It’s fine. I have a big appetite, and my family loves sweets, too."

Hearing Moira Lynch mention her family, the stall owner nodded. Ah, so she was sharing them. That was fine, then.

Moira Lynch was about to leave when the owner’s words suddenly came back to her. She stopped, turned around, and asked, "Sir, is it true what you said about these cakes being really filling?"

"Of course it’s true. Don’t let their small size fool you; we’re very generous with our portions. Someone with a small appetite usually can’t even finish a single piece in one sitting."

After getting a firm confirmation, Moira Lynch asked, "Sir, do you take bulk orders? I’m planning on having some friends over, and since it’s a big group, I’d like to order more of these cakes."

Hearing Moira Lynch’s request, the stall owner was hardly going to turn down business that walked right up to him.

"Of course, that’s no problem at all."

And just like that, Moira Lynch quickly finalized the cake order with the owner: one platter of each flavor, with about twenty-four pieces per platter.

After paying a deposit and arranging to pick up the order the next day, Moira Lynch finally left, bags in hand.

After wandering around for two or three hours, Moira Lynch figured it was about time and started heading back.

When she returned to her rented apartment, it hadn’t quieted down as Moira Lynch had expected. In fact, it had gotten even louder.

Moira Lynch could clearly hear the commotion from her neighbors above, below, and on both sides.

Upstairs lived a young couple with a child. For some reason, their kid was running around the room pushing a chair, its legs scraping across the floor and making a piercing sound.

Her next-door neighbors were a mother and son. The mother was helping her son with his homework.

Anyone who’s been through it knows how much kids can dawdle over their homework. One moment they’re fiddling with this, the next they’re fidgeting with that, then they need a drink of water, then they have to go to the bathroom. In the end, one of them—parent or child—is bound to lose their mind.

In this case, it was clearly the mother who had snapped. She was screaming her head off at the child, venting her pent-up frustration.

Seeing no hope for sleep, Moira Lynch figured she might as well turn on the TV. ’Maybe I can find some clues for this game on the news.’

She watched for a long time but found no useful clues. Bored, Moira Lynch let out a yawn.

The current game only allowed participants to bring in five items, but thankfully, the Space Button didn’t count toward that limit.

As for the items Snowy had previously consumed, Moira Lynch tested them. They were still usable, but their power seemed to have been weakened.

She could clearly feel a shackle-like restraint placed upon her spiritual power after she materialized the White Feather Bow. Even the bow’s appearance had become much plainer.

’Oh well, at least it’s usable.’

Moira Lynch had a good attitude about it. As long as it worked, it was fine. After all, something was better than nothing.

Besides, the five items she had brought with her this time were all support-oriented.

If her spiritual power couldn’t materialize items like the White Feather Bow, she would have to find a way to procure some other weapons.

Moira Lynch inspected the five items in her Space Button.

The first was a white crossbody bag embroidered with a red cross. It looked very simple and plain.