Return Countdown 47:59:58.
Return Countdown 47:59:57.
Had he crossed over?
So the end of the countdown meant crossing to another time and space, and the return countdown was the time left to g back.
Realizing this, Qing Chen let out a sigh of relief; it was a good thing to be able to return.
Although no one might be thinking about him there, his mother had a new life and couldn't spare thought for him, and his father... was probably in a detention center.
So he probably couldn't spare a thought for him either.
But even so, he still wanted to go back and see for himself.
And now, what he had to do was to stay alive during these 48 hours.
So... it was the first day of the countdown.
Qing Chen began to re-evaluate the "New World" in front of him.
The moment the world pieced itself back together, Qing Chen saw the prison uniform on his body and instantly understood his situation.
He was in a gray, dim room, except for an Alloy Gate that exuded a technological feel, the other areas were completely enclosed walls.
The door, 90 centimeters wide, had a small window, but it was closed now.
The cell was a single room, containing only a bed covered with a thin sheet.
Next to it was a rack with nothing more than a quilt, a toothbrush, and a towel.
The cell walls were gray, but what Qing Chen couldn't understand was why the gray walls, under the faint light outside, clearly emitted a metallic luster.
Metallic walls?
Qing Chen sat up and solemnly touched the wall, wondering what place would use such a cost-disregarding building material?
Clearly, this was no longer the world he had known.
He quickly lowered his head to his palms; the fingerprints were completely identical to his former ones, even the position of the pores on his hands didn't differ by half a point.
This was his own body.
After traveling to this world, his Boning Knife had disappeared, the clothes he originally wore had vanished as well, but his body was indeed his own.
Fingerprints and pore positions couldn't be faked.
Qing Chen sat on the bed, hugging his knees, staring at the heavy Alloy Gate, not knowing what he was thinking.
Gradually, noises started outside, and even the sound of someone forcefully banging on the Alloy Gate could be heard.
Qing Chen slowly walked to the door, trying to listen to what was being shouted outside, but before he could make it out, the Alloy Gate emitted a clear pneumatic transmission sound and opened.
He looked outside the door, which led to a circular corridor.
This square prison fortress had seven floors, each floor densely packed with orderly arranged cells.
The open and vast prison fortress had only a few lights on, and from each opened Alloy Gate came dim cells, like beasts caged inside.
Qing Chen stood inside the door, it seemed that with just one step out, he would be walking towards an unknowable life.
In the vast prison, a broadcast suddenly started somewhere, a pleasant female voice uttered, "Seven o'clock sharp, breakfast time. All inmates, please line up in order and proceed to the dining area for your meal."
The voice echoed in the prison fortress, while Qing Chen still stared at the doorstep in front of him.
It seemed that with just one step out, everything would be different.
He felt that from a certain moment, he had already begun to change.
When did it start?
Probably... when he thought he had only two and a half hours left in his life and decided to do what he had always wanted to but never dared to do.
He had even reported his own father, what else was there to fear?
He stepped out of the cell.
But the next moment, he froze again.
In the not-so-spacious corridor outside, a prisoner stood in front of each cell door.
Qing Chen's pupils suddenly constricted:
An old man hunched over looked towards him, and in his eye socket, there was a mechanical eye emitting a faint red glow. The entire right eye socket was mechanically structured, extending to the temple on the right side.
The mechanical eye looked unrefined, even a bit crude, but for some reason, Qing Chen felt a sense of oppression from that eye fixed on him.
It seemed as if the other party was analyzing the details on his body.
Just like he used Memory Power to analyze others.
A burly middle-aged prisoner's right arm was entirely mechanical. The man flexed his fingers, and Qing Chen could hear the metallic sound of the mechanical components moving as the man's hand opened and closed.
The robust metal arm, resembling coiled steel muscles, was strong and volatile.
In this entire prison fortress, it seemed half of the people had mechanical limbs.
Mechanical civilization.
Those four words flashed through Qing Chen's mind.
Before he could ponder further, he saw the burly prisoner in the next cell smile at him, "Hey, newbie, don't eat too much for breakfast, or it will look ugly when it comes back up."
No sooner had he spoken than laughter echoed down the corridor, "Heard that last night twelve new people arrived; today we can have some fun."
"This kid has no mechanical limbs at all, looks like he wasn't much connected on the outside either."
When Qing Chen heard the words "newbie," he was taken aback; he thought the other man knew he had just traversed from Earth.
But he quickly realized that "newbie" probably meant he had just entered the prison, presumably the other did not know about his Earthling identity.
And Qing Chen, frowning in thought, realized that the so-called "fun" for the others might spell disaster for him.
But the question was, how was he supposed to survive among these mechanical "beasts"?
He suppressed the restlessness and fear within him, and as a regular high school sophomore faced with a sudden and fierce event, the only thing Qing Chen could do was to force himself not to show any anomalies.
Because he didn't know what consequences it might bring if his origin from another world was exposed.
Suddenly, across on the fourth floor of the opposite corridor, a young man became frenzied, "What is this place! I want to go home! I don't want to stay in this creepy place, who are you people? I'm Huang Jixian, my dad is the chairman of the Los Angeles Win Group, stay away from me!"
With that, the young man began to run wildly along the corridor.
The others didn't move, standing in place as if watching a spectacle, still lined up ready to head to the cafeteria.
Someone asked in confusion, "Where is Los Angeles?"
Suddenly, Qing Chen heard a buzzing sound overhead; he looked up to discover, high up on the deep ceiling, four drone-like iron boxes detaching from the wall, beginning to descend.
Qing Chen's gaze lingered on the ceiling where the walls, made of alloy material, had neatly integrated eighteen Gatling-like six-barrel gun turrets hanging upside down.
As the panicking young man ran, nine of those gun barrels began to rotate!
"Please stop moving," a female voice came from the drone, "Warning again, please stop moving."
Then, a woman's voice sounded throughout the prison fortress, "All inmates, stand by in place."
In just over ten seconds, the four drones had cornered the young man in a part of the corridor, each drone's gun aimed right at him.
At the same time, gates opened below in the prison fortress, and 9 robots armed with unnamed firearms were rapidly entering.
The young man sat against the wall in terror, while Qing Chen coldly watched it all unfold.
The young man's actions were a bit extreme, but they helped Qing Chen gather a lot of information.
Machine guns, drones, robots, mechanical limbs—countless pieces of information flooded into his mind at once.
But what astonished Qing Chen most was his sudden realization while watching the young man's actions: he might not be the only one from Earth who had come to this place.
Not the first, and likely not the last.
(Chapter 4—Please recommend and vote for monthly tickets)