Chapter Forty-Five: Setting Out for the Next World

The next morning, yawning, Xie Jing walked out of his room to find that Huang Ling had already bought breakfast and set steamed buns, mantou, and rice porridge on the table. She had an important class today and couldn’t accompany him, which suited Xie Jing just fine.

After handing over the items to General Zhang last night, Xie Jing had gone straight home without lingering. The rest of the matter was now in the hands of the authorities, who would handle the promotion and further research; Xie Jing had no part to play in that.

Unbeknownst to him, after he left, General Zhang spent nearly an hour on the phone with the higher-ups, then rushed to the capital on a late-night flight, escorted by two fighter jets. That same night, many of the leading scientists at the Chinese Academy of Sciences were hauled out of bed by a single phone call. After a series of strict security measures, they were shown miraculous new technologies the likes of which they’d never dreamed of.

Though unsettled by the fact that all the documents were written in Japanese, their research expertise was undiminished. A single night of study led them to a clear conclusion: everything on that hard drive could indeed be built.

The hard drive’s classification was immediately raised to the highest level. General Zhang himself was questioned by the relevant departments for three hours before he was allowed to leave, now accompanied by four additional security officers.

When Xie Jing got up the next morning, he noticed that someone seemed to be watching his doorstep.

“The state moves quickly,” he chuckled, unconcerned.

After all, only General Zhang had seen him yesterday; no one else could possibly know his identity.

At his leisure, Xie Jing picked up a bag of dog food from the corner and poured it into Song King’s little bowl, not caring whether the dog had an appetite. Song King, who’d been depressed since watching bird hearts wounded on Animal Planet the previous night, still looked listless—who knew if he’d understood anything or not.

Then Xie Jing turned on his computer and began a frenzied marathon of catching up on anime—not just animation, but horror, action, and sci-fi films as well. He even rewatched every Ultraman series. The system’s unpredictability forced him to cast as wide a net as possible to avoid being completely ignorant if he wound up in another world.

Life drifted by in this unremarkable fashion. The showy scenes he’d once imagined—face-slapping displays of power—had no place in this harmonious society. There were no secret dragon squads, no criminal gangs, no delinquent youths bothering Huang Ling…

The state’s surveillance around Xie Jing’s apartment grew from two people to a twelve-person squad. General Zhang Zhonghua was appointed to oversee Xie Jing’s monitoring and protection. But if not for the unforgettable sight of Xie Jing’s transformation that day, Zhang would have simply concluded, after days of observation, that this was nothing more than a deeply reclusive otaku idling his life away.

Twenty-four hours a day, save for the occasional trips out for meals or a stroll, this supposed alien spent all his time at home watching television. From Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf to Neon Genesis Evangelion, from rural melodramas to Ju-On, he watched everything—and even took notes while watching.

What General Zhang didn’t know was that, at certain times, Xie Jing would use Diga’s World Key to return to another world, where he flirted tenderly with a young lady.

Time slipped by swiftly. In a month, only about ten percent of the data from the hard drive Xie Jing had given the country had been deciphered.

Yet, laboratory research had already succeeded in replicating the unique high-strength, lightweight material used on the Feiyan model aircraft—a major breakthrough in modern materials science. This single development made all of China’s fighter jets thirty percent lighter and fifty percent stronger.

And it wasn’t just materials; research into the engine was ongoing. After all, for a plane like Feiyan, which defied all aerodynamic convention, to fly, the engine had to be immensely powerful.

As for laser weapons, the top-secret laboratory had only just established a project, but the nation’s laser experts were already nearing a frenzy.

There were other, even more astonishing technologies. The bald-headed experts stared at the blueprints in disbelief, unable to fathom how these could possibly be Japanese inventions—Japan simply didn’t possess such advanced technology!

Still, the authorities strictly forbade anyone from asking about the source of these things, leaving the ever-curious researchers helpless.

Over the course of a month, subtle changes began to unfold.

Suddenly, television was flooded with survival programs and science documentaries about decoding alien life. The locations of air-raid shelters across the country were occasionally mentioned on TV, sparking widespread speculation among those who noticed such things.

On internet forums—especially the major ones—everyone was discussing whether something big was about to happen.

Chaos! Chaos! Chaos! The forums buzzed with excitement.

What on earth was the Rabbit up to? Uncle Sam was utterly bewildered, so he summoned the top Chinese diplomat in Washington for a briefing. After their talk, both sides were more confused than ever. The hard drive project was top secret; only a handful of people knew anything, and the diplomat certainly wasn’t one of them.

It was a comic scene—nobody knew what was really going on. At a loss, Uncle Sam came up with a solution: military exercises!

China, equally in the dark (except for General Zhang), saw all this commotion and thought, “Well, if you’re holding exercises, so will we!”

Japan, observing the excitement, decided to join in as well.

The White Elephant (India) thought, “Now’s the time to show off my status as the world’s third power!” and joined in too.

Thus, the world’s nations treated the people of this blue planet to a spectacular sight: every country with any power whatsoever seemed to be holding military exercises in competition with each other.

For a while, it was like a festival—flags flying, firecrackers popping, drums pounding, crowds cheering…

Except for Gaul (France).

Not wanting to give their detractors any ammunition, the French did absolutely nothing.

None of these external events affected Xie Jing’s life. As the only superpowered individual on Earth, he was more than capable of protecting himself and his family. Besides, military exercises were expensive—the nations would soon realize something was amiss.

At this moment, Xie Jing stood in his room and opened the system interface. Before him, a red warning box flashed urgently, filling most of his vision.

[One minute until your next world transfer!!! Please prepare yourself!!!]

He took a deep breath, a hint of anticipation stirring within him as he awaited the crossing. After so much ordinary life, the unknown journey ahead suddenly took on a peculiar allure, even to Xie Jing, who had always been the laziest of people.

[5]
[4]
[3]
[2]
[1]
[Begin transfer]

The surrounding light twisted and warped. That familiar vertigo swept over him. Even with the power of light at his command, Xie Jing’s vision went black and he fainted.

When he awoke again…

A boundless green prairie stretched out before his eyes.

“Where… where have I ended up this time?”

He looked down at his armor and the riding crop at his waist, thoroughly bewildered.

“Don’t tell me… I’ve ended up on the Green Grasslands…”