Doomsday Wonderland

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1458: Glass Shards in Money

Chapter 1458: Gla.s.s Shards in Money

As Lin Sanjiu closed her eyes in deep concentration, the room fell silent, and all the humanoid Special Items remained still. Occasionally, a ghostly game character would flash past behind the sofa, or a cabinet door would silently open, revealing a man’s face that peeked out, glanced around, and then retreated.

A few minutes later, Lin Sanjiu opened her eyes.

The Life Coach leaned in eagerly, his eyes s.h.i.+ning. “How did it go? What power did you obtain?”

That was a difficult question to answer.

“I didn’t expect… It’s not the [The Spirit of All Things],” Lin Sanjiu said, frowning. “It seems more like a personal advantage of hers, although it feels very similar to an ability.”

She had initially thought that one of the two must be [The Spirit of All Things]. Such a widespread, cheat-like ability would likely be among Advaita’s top three most important powers. She hadn’t antic.i.p.ated acquiring two things that were even more critical to Advaita than [The Spirit of All Things].

“What do you mean?”

“For example, if I can run exceptionally fast, that’s an advantage. But if I use [Planar World], that’s my ability,” she explained, carefully choosing her words. “What I obtained from Advaita wasn’t an ability. It’s more like an innate quality she was born with that became her advantage. Unless she wasn’t human when she was born, I don’t understand why a person’s innate quality would be… like this.”

The humanoid Special Items were all intrigued. Since these two things were neither abilities nor items, there were no descriptions or explanations. Lin Sanjiu had to figure them out gradually.

“Let me demonstrate,” she said, standing up. She surveyed the living room then slowly lifted her foot to take a step forward.

All three humanoid Special Items watched her foot intently. Her combat boot stepped down as usual, the sole forming a forty-degree angle with the floor and continuing its descent—then, suddenly, it disappeared. They looked up, startled, to see Lin Sanjiu’s body from the calf upwards rapidly vanis.h.i.+ng, even though she was still in a forward-walking pose.

The Life Coach was the first to react, his eyes wide. Just as he was about to speak, the combat boot reappeared in the air, landing smoothly on the floor. Along with it, Lin Sanjiu’s entire body reappeared.

It seemed as if she had briefly become invisible while taking that step.

“What happened?” the Life Coach asked. “Was it invisibility?”

Lin Sanjiu’s eyes were even wider than the Life Coach’s. She stood there, momentarily stunned, feeling as if she were a child seeing fireworks for the first time. Mesmerized by the dazzling display, she was so captivated by the s.h.i.+fting lights and shadows that she forgot how to speak.

The Life Coach’s voice brought her back to reality. Even without a mirror, she was certain her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Her voice trembled slightly as she said, “You… you need to see this.”

She opened her tightly clenched fist over the coffee table in the living room. A moist bundle of sand, mixed with a few white pebbles and a fragment of a broken sh.e.l.l, fell onto the table, releasing a faint but distinct scent of the sea.

The humanoid Special Items recognized it. “Sand? When did you…?”

“Just now,” Lin Sanjiu replied, still trying to grasp what she had just experienced. The sensation made every nerve in her body tremble as if the strings of a harp had been plucked.

“Just now?”

“I used one of those qualities… Well, think of it as if I activated it. It’s hard to explain,” she said, gesturing around. “The place I wanted to reach was just a step ahead… Just one step, no actual path. But after activating this quality, I felt I had countless routes to that single step… Some could even take hundreds of years.”

The humanoid Special Items exchanged glances.

Indeed, it was difficult to describe. When she instructed her body to take that step, every joint and part of her seemed to immerse into layers of different s.p.a.ces.

Although her foot appeared to move just a step forward, it actually traversed numerous layers of s.p.a.ce, pulling her through a myriad of bizarre realms. Layer upon layer of cosmic s.p.a.ce unfolded like petals of a blooming flower, drawing her deeper and deeper.

As a new layer of s.p.a.ce opened before her, the previous one receded behind. She was swept through countless worlds: dazzling starry skies, dark oceans, a single droplet of water, a gra.s.sy park, the innards of a pigeon, a song, and the dance of lights and shadows in the unknown. She lost count of how many worlds she crossed before finally reaching her destination—the living room floor, which had originally been just a step away.

“It feels like experiencing hallucinogens,” the Life Coach murmured.

“But it’s ten times more intense than a hallucination because it’s real.” Lin Sanjiu pointed to the sea sand on the table, her hand still trembling slightly. The room seemed to spin around her. “I grabbed a handful of sand that was right in front of me… and it came back with me.”

Strangely, she could grasp objects she intentionally wished to take. In that dazed state, she felt like a phantom moving through different worlds.

The three humanoid Special Items stared at the sea sand in awe. Even the Life Coach seemed at a loss for words. “It’s truly incredible. So, your body really traveled through so many worlds in an instant?”

Lin Sanjiu, still in a trance, managed a nod after a few moments.

Anyone who had experienced what she just had would struggle to regain focus. Having been swept through countless worlds, even her perception of reality felt shattered. She looked around in confusion, momentarily forgetting her surroundings and even who Advaita was, as mentioned by the Life Coach.

“Why would this be so significant to Advaita?” one of the humanoid Special Items asked, not realizing her distraction. “It must serve a significant purpose.”

Lin Sanjiu shook her head vigorously, trying to anchor herself back to the present. Drawing from her memories, she replied, “She once acted this way in the mall. I thought it was one of effects of [The Spirit of All Things]… I never realized she was actually traversing other s.p.a.ces, using them as shortcuts.”

She paused and added, “Yes, shortcuts.”

However, Advaita hadn’t shown such prominent side effects at that time. Lin Sanjiu took a seat, taking a moment to reorient herself. A thought crossed her mind, and she hesitated before speaking.

“This doesn’t seem to be a combat ability,” she said. “It allows my body to traverse worlds, which is astonis.h.i.+ng… I wonder if it could let me bypa.s.s visas and travel directly to specific worlds.”

Freely traveling through multi-layered cosmic s.p.a.ces—wasn’t that G.o.d-like?

Since Caster frequently suggested divination and the Artist couldn’t speak, the Life Coach became the only person she could discuss this with. He furrowed his brows and asked, “If you can grab sand from one world, could you have stopped halfway?”

Lin Sanjiu thought for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I didn’t dare to try. I wondered if I could stop midway, but I was afraid I might not find my way back. All I knew was that my step was meant to land on the living room floor, and if I didn’t stop, I would naturally return along the original path.”

“Why not try going somewhere else?” the Life Coach suggested. “Start with somewhere close, like upstairs. That way, if something goes wrong, you can return the regular way.”

It was not a bad idea. Thinking of apartment No. 7 on the second floor, Lin Sanjiu turned and took a step toward the door.

She now understood how Advaita’s movements in the mall worked.

Under normal circ.u.mstances, covering the distance between Point A and Point B required moving step by step. But with this ability activated, she altered the route between these two points. The new route was like a thread, threaded through countless layers of s.p.a.ce. The end of this thread could appear on the staircase, in a hallway, or right in front of apartment No. 7.

The humanoid Special Items rushed out just in time to see Lin Sanjiu’s shadow appear in front of the stairwell. She lifted her foot for the next step, then continued past the railing on the second floor, her movement seamless.

The Life Coach saw that she didn’t stop even when she reached the second floor, and then she disappeared. “Where is she going?”

Suddenly, Lin Sanjiu appeared mid-air, stepping into the void and falling straight down, landing with a thud on the central lawn.

The fall was harsh; she hadn’t had a chance to reposition herself before landing, gasping for breath. The humanoid Special Items rushed to her side. The Life Coach extended a hand and asked, “Did you misjudge the route and end up in the wrong place?”

Lin Sanjiu kept her eyes closed, her face pale, and remained motionless for a while. Her consciousness was overwhelmed by a kaleidoscopic tsunami of worlds, with thoughts and voices shattering and drifting like debris on a vast ocean, struggling to piece themselves back together.

Despite the chaos, she remembered what caused her misstep.

Layers of s.p.a.ce and worlds had continuously approached, enveloped her, washed over her, and then disappeared. In one of those layers, she realized she was back in the game world but in a different corner—a purely white s.p.a.ce. The white was so deliberate and pure that it felt like something was hidden beneath it.

It was there she heard the all-too-familiar voice.

“Sis, save me!”