Chapter 3
With the knowledge of cultivation firmly in his mind, Norman knew he would need supernatural resources to progress. He set off, digging into the cave walls, the sound of a pickaxe hitting stone reverberating in the air. He dug and dug, taking small breaks to wipe away the sweat that formed on his brow. Hours passed as he tirelessly worked, yet he found nothing.
Frustrated but determined, Norman experimented with digging in different directions, only to be met with a large spark each time he deviated from digging forward. Reluctantly, he decided to stop testing and focused solely on digging forward, hoping to uncover something of value. But still, his efforts yielded no results.
"And the stones disappear on their own," he muttered, perplexed by the mysterious phenomenon. He struck the wall once again, causing a small chunk of stone to break off and fall, only to vanish before his eyes. "Maybe this is a dream," he mused, his doubts resurfacing. However, a sense of dissatisfaction washed over him. "What is happening?" he questioned himself, his confusion mounting.
Suddenly, his body gave way, the exhaustion taking hold. Norman fell backward, losing consciousness within the darkness of the cave.
When he woke up, he found himself back in his bed, surrounded by the familiar comforts of his apartment. "Back here again. I guess that was all a dream," he thought, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. But his mind involuntarily recalled all the realms and knowledge he had obtained. "Maybe it wasn't just a dream," he considered, his curiosity lingering.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, pulling him back to reality. Groggily, Norman made his way to the door and opened it, finding Zatanna standing before him. "Hey, Norman, I was just..." she trailed off, her words catching in her throat as she took in the sight of a bare-chested Norman, his sleepy eyes and disheveled hair. "Wow," she blurted out, her gaze fixated on his physique.
"Like what you see?" Norman teased a hint of cockiness in his voice. Zatanna quickly denied it, her cheeks flushed. "No, no," she stammered, regaining her composure. "I just wanted to give you these," she said, holding out a plate of food. Norman glanced at her with a mischievous smile. "Wow, you're already bringing me food? What's next? Get married? Meet the parent?" he joked, leaning in closer to her.
"If you wish, my father can turn you into a rabbit," Zatanna replied, lightly punching his stomach while subtly taking the opportunity to feel his abs. "So you do believe he used magic," Norman said, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Eat your breakfast; I don't want you going to work hungry," she instructed, trying to divert the conversation.
"Oh, you worry about me so much. How am I ever going to thank you?" Norman teased, looking at the breakfast she had brought him. Zatanna's response was swift and playful. "You can start by putting on some clothes; don't freak out the neighborhood," she said, getting closer to him.
"What? Worried someone might take me away from you?" Norman replied, leaning in even closer. Zatanna turned away, glancing toward her own house, before swiftly pulling Norman by the towel around his waist and planting a kiss on his lips. Norman stood there, stunned like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, so we are quiet now? where's the guy who was trying to tease me just now?" Zatanna chuckled. "Be a good boy and get dressed, would you? I don't want you showing off my things."
Norman, still speechless from the unexpected encounter with Zatanna, had a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes. "Wow," he whispered, breaking into a smile. He turned back into his apartment and placed the plate of food on the kitchen counter. Still, in a daze, he mechanically made his way to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, all the while stealing glances at his reflection as if trying to confirm that what had just happened was real.
His routine continued as he cleaned himself up and got dressed. He entered the kitchen, ready to eat breakfast. With each bite, he struggled to wrap his mind around the whirlwind of events. It felt surreal, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp. But as he chewed his food, a chuckle escaped his lips. "Man, that was... I don't know what it was," he thought to himself, trying to process the unexpected encounter with Zatanna.
Leaving his apartment, Norman found himself stepping into the elevator, still pondering the strange turn of events. The brief respite allowed him a moment of introspection. The elevator door opened, and he composed himself before stepping out. He walked the familiar path to his shop, a place where he bought and sold antiques.
Upon reaching his shop, Norman unlocked the door and swung it open. "Hello, Norman," a familiar voice greeted him from behind. He turned around to face Mr. Reo, an elderly white man with brown hair and black eyes. A smile appeared on Norman's face. "Mr. Reo, how have you been?" he asked. The elderly gentleman returned the smile. "Oh, you know, child, busy as always," he replied.
Norman's curiosity extended to Mr. Reo's wife. "Tell me, how is Mrs. Reo?" he inquired. Mr. Reo chuckled. "Oh, you know her, cooking her noodles," he replied. Norman let out a sigh of contentment. "Mrs. Reo's noodles are what holds this community together," he commented with a sense of fondness.
As Mr. Reo bid his farewell and continued on his way, Norman entered the shop and prepared for his normal day. He meticulously dusted the items on the shelves, his fingers delicately gliding over the historical artifacts. The process took about thirty minutes, ensuring that each piece was free from any hint of dust or dirt.
Once the cleaning was complete, customers began to trickle into the shop, seeking Norman's expertise in identifying historical items. Four distinct scenes unfolded as Norman interacted with the customers, each one unique in its way.
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lucky bastard