"Not this again!"
Chen Xiao instinctively felt very annoyed.
It was the same expanse of white, the same absence of directions or solid ground underfoot—the same wretched place.
He floated in the air, well... since there wasn't even a concept of 'air', he just assumed a standing posture following his own will, and so he could "stand" like that.
Chen Xiao was clearly aware that he came here often, the familiarity was even stronger than his apartment on Shell Street, yet it felt so vague, like a delicious meal from the distant past, with a taste so clear in his mind, but impossible to recreate on his tongue.
"Why do I end up here when I'm doing nothing?"
He asked, and immediately, he thought of a chap who had a habit of smoking a pipe; that fellow would probably pop up soon, spouting nonsense at him, yet afterward, he likely wouldn't remember a thing.
That feeling was really terrible.
Suddenly
"Hehehe..."
