Simultaneous Travel: Becoming a Legend in the Heavens.

Chapter 580 Reunion of old friends

September 6th, 2125, a gloomy Thursday.

The rainy season in Carsendra had just ended, and the sudden drop in temperature reduced the number of pedestrians on the streets by more than half. Only the homeless, idle vagrants, and people who had to make a living in the freezing weather were unaffected.

In the dark alley, heavily made-up prostitutes gaze at the alley entrance, puffing away at their cigarettes, while in the corner, a drug addict, drowning in excrement and urine, trembles as usual.

Addictive substances and the female body are a timeless pairing; they love to invite abuse, blowing away fruit from the edge of a cliff, and then searching for the next lucky one after the target crashes to the ground.

Miles dragged his heavy steps into the dark alley, his face revealing neither joy nor anger, only his furrowed brows indicating that he was not in a good mood.

He was about 1.7 meters tall, thin and bony, like a mop that had been soaked in the sun. He had dark circles under his eyes, a ring of unshaven bluish stubble around his neck, rough skin, and his palms were mostly worn smooth. He looked like he had been through a lot.

Despite his impoverished appearance, Miles was dressed in a brand-new leather coat and matching trousers from a major brand that advertises in Times Square across the country. On his wrist was a heavy gold watch that still carried a certain weight, regardless of the brand's reputation.

His accessories were all kinds of strange and wonderful, but the only thing they had in common was that they were expensive. His entire collection was enough to buy a shop in a good location on a commercial street, making even the musty air in the space seem expensive.

"Sir, do you need service?"

A call girl, reeking of cheap perfume, walked over, smiling radiantly, gazing affectionately at this strange customer—a walking banknote.

Miles glanced at his old neighbor who didn't recognize him, skillfully raised his hand to refuse, and silently walked into the depths of the dark alley without even looking back.

The call girl watched his retreating figure with regret, sighed, withdrew her feigned expression, and lit a cigarette to vent her frustration.

"You didn't manage to recruit them?"

A colleague, yawning, leaned over to ask.

"During an economic downturn, free services are the best. They would rather drive their own cars or manual transmissions than spend money to rent a car."

The call girl answered nonchalantly, scratching her scalp in frustration as she puffed out smoke. Feeling a chill, she cursed the unusual weather in her mind.

The sweltering and humid plum rain season has just ended, and the cold wave has taken over the baton and started running. In just two days, the temperature difference is close to forty degrees, which would have been quite rare in the past, but is now commonplace.

In recent years, the frequency of natural disasters worldwide has been steadily increasing, with extreme weather, typhoons, earthquakes, flash floods, volcanic eruptions, and intensified tectonic plate activity. Orange alerts have been issued so frequently that even journalists have lost interest, while the rising curves in the statistical charts of related events have made stock market investors drool.

Just like toppling dominoes, extreme weather is accompanied by soaring urban crime rates, escalating racial, class, and religious divisions, and protests that are more frequent than college couples booking hotel rooms. All of this makes one wonder if the end of the world is approaching.

However, these great, macro-level, and legendary events naturally have nothing to do with just two call girls.

They only care about how many customers they can attract, whether the customers require them to endure disgusting service or provide smiling service, and how much they can earn this month to pay for motel and other living expenses.

"That guy just now didn't seem short of money. Just those leather shoes alone could cover the two of us for a year, plus occasional fast food meals," my colleague said with a hint of regret.

"Who knows? That money-printing machine should indeed be in a more upscale club, but it's fucking normal for rich people to have strange fetishes. Last time I hosted one who liked to call me 'Mom' and wanted me to breastfeed him..."

The call girls seemed indifferent; their profession best exemplifies the diversity of sexual fetishes, and over the years they have become witnesses to human imagination. The example given earlier was rather mild.

As his companion watched the departing figure, he suddenly asked, "Don't you think he looks like Miles?"

"It does look similar, but it's definitely not."

The call girl flicked off her cigarette ash and answered confidently, "For people at the bottom of society, wealth is more of an identity card than looks, age, or physical characteristics."

Miles is one of the "residents" of this dark alley. He has no parents, relatives, or friends, no stable job, only a stunted, scarred body that could be carried into the morgue at any time in winter, just like most people in the alley.

He usually makes a living by petty theft. If he's lucky, he can live a carefree life for a few days, but if he's unlucky, he can only shiver in a corner. His connection with the word "rich man" is limited to what men say when they're drunk.

"It's better to believe the moon will fall than to believe he is Miles."

My colleague chuckled and joked, "Be careful the moon doesn't really fall down; there have been quite a few unusual events these past few years."

Around this time last year, cockroaches and mosquitoes around the world suddenly became extinct overnight. Not long ago, someone posted online that God's 'Ten Commandments' tablet had fallen in front of them. People with excessive fandoms were clamoring that they were seeing fairy tales invading reality. Recently, several game streamers who went crazy from staying up all night reported that NPCs from their games had come into reality...

Strange reports keep popping up every now and then, and what's surprising is that the relevant departments don't shut down these newspapers that spread rumors, but instead use various scientific explanations.

This is a world that's driving people crazy.

The call girl looked up at the gloomy sky, where the low-hanging clouds made it even darker. She rubbed her fingers together, sensing that the weather was not good.

"However, if he doesn't have some strange quirks, he's either in trouble; rich people usually only have these two kinds of worries."

Thinking about it this way, being rejected might not be such a bad thing.

Just as she was thinking this, the call girl felt a slight coolness on her neck, followed by the same sensation on all her exposed skin.

She cursed under her breath and shrank back under the eaves, seeing her companions also running away.

It's raining.

…………

Miles looked up at the gloomy weather, which made his already bad mood even heavier.

He quickened his pace, passing through dark alleys and through streets and alleys, until he reached a secluded intersection. After confirming that the address was correct, he stopped.

Perhaps because of the rain, he could not see any pedestrians or vehicles; all he could see was a vast expanse of white, with raindrops forming curtains that shrouded the surrounding scenery in a white mist.

In this kind of weather, it's easy to lose body temperature in the rain. The biting cold made Miles stiff all over. Seeing that the rain was getting heavier, he thought for a moment and then walked to a bus stop waiting room not far away to take shelter from the rain.

A young man was lying on the bench, his back to the outside, so his face was not visible. Only his slender figure could be vaguely seen in the dim light.

Miles didn't bother the young people; rather, the current situation suited him perfectly.

He waited silently, his anxiety growing with each passing moment, until his phone started vibrating. His expression changed several times before he stiffly put the phone to his ear and answered it.

“Mr. Miles, I’ll be there in three minutes. I hope you can arrive at the designated location on time, or you won’t want to experience the consequences.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was a deep male voice, calm and capable, but the tone was so cold that it had no warmth at all.

"I've already arrived."

Miles swallowed hard and answered in a trembling voice.

"Very good, did you bring the items as well?"

"I brought it. As you said, I can become a full-fledged 'employee' right now, right?"

"The company has sufficient humanitarian concern for those who are willing to voluntarily hand over the 'sealed items'..."

The voice on the other end paused for a moment, followed by a deafening clap of thunder, then a creaking sound, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground, and the sound of a car screeching to a halt.

A few seconds later, the somewhat distorted sound came through again.

"There's been a slight mishap, I'll probably be a few minutes late, but no more than ten minutes. Just wait for me at the agreed spot and don't move."

"……clear."

Miles hung up the phone, his heart pounding, feeling confused and bewildered.

Why did the time they agreed to meet change just because of a car accident? No, I should say, why did the car accident happen in the first place?
He thought the other side was an absolutely invincible force, but it seems that the other side is not as omnipotent as he imagined. So, does that mean he... doesn't have to be so obedient?

The two things that people at the bottom like to do most are taking advantage of others and speculation. Whenever possible, everyone wants to live a more comfortable life.

Miles hesitated, licked his lips which were white from the cold, and took a small box out of his pocket.

The box has a regular circular shape, a flat cylinder, and a smooth and delicate surface, like the kind of skincare product that women would carry, such as face cream. In short, it doesn't seem like something a man like Miles should carry.

Three months ago, he was a petty thief, but now he has made a fortune with this stuff and is living a life he never imagined.

Using this... might just allow me to escape capture and start a new life.

Miles held his breath, a thought flashing through his mind—if major choices could lead to drastically different consequences, and fate could take a fork in the road, then this was probably the time.

Miles's hand slowly approached the small box, closer and closer. "Ah... I advise you to give up that idea, Mr. Miles."

A voice rang in Miles's ears. Although the volume was not loud, it was like a thunderclap from a clear sky. He was so frightened that he trembled and fell to the ground with a "thud." He looked in fear toward the source of the sound.

The sound originated from the bench, or more specifically, from the young man who had turned over on the bench but remained lying on his side.

He was probably in his early twenties, with an Asian appearance, a high nose bridge, sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, and three-dimensional, deep-set features. With just the right amount of negative space, he was so handsome that he left a deep impression. At this moment, he was smiling at me.

Even in the face of danger, Miles couldn't help but lose his composure for a moment before struggling to his feet, looking at the young man with a mixture of wariness and fear.

The young man remained motionless, like an audience member watching a farce, his face bearing an expression that was hard to define as mockery, his voice calm, even gentle and polite.

"The thing you have can change your appearance, but you don't understand it enough, and you're worried about its side effects. You just apply it to your face. You don't know how to conceal your footprints and scent, you don't know how to avoid cameras, and you don't even know to change your clothes to alter your image. So, in twenty-one minutes, the person picking you up will recognize you, and then..."

The young man tapped his temples, a smile on his face, and mimicked the sound of a gun firing.

"boom!"

Miles' body trembled at the simulated gunshot, his mind reeling from the shock, leaving him barely able to speak.

The young man continued, “You can also choose to modify your escape strategy based on what I just said. That would indeed delay things a bit longer. The people who are supposed to pick you up will spend some time looking for you. Once they realize they’ve lost you, they’ll report it to their superiors. The ‘company’ will use some interesting methods, and you still won’t be able to escape. However, you can hold out for five hours.”

"You can also choose to go with the person who picks you up. This is the wisest choice. That person is not lying to you. You can really become an 'employee' for three days... which is quite long compared to the previous two."

"Who are you...? How do you know about me...? What did you mean by what you just said...?"

Miles finally managed to squeeze out a breath and stammer out his question.

"me?"

The young man looked leisurely at the rain outside the waiting hall and said calmly, "I'm just an ordinary passerby who plans to go back to my hometown to visit relatives and friends and send my blessings to my old friends."

"As for what I just said... I was just talking nonsense, please don't take it to heart."

How can you not take something like this to heart?

Miles' face twitched a few times, his teeth clenching so hard they made a clanging sound. Reason told him that no one could know the future, but the series of events that had happened in the past three months told him that common sense was useless in this world.

Fraudster, charlatan, magician, fortune teller, Gypsy, Voodoo, or... black magic?

Miles considered various possibilities, and finally, he watched the young man cautiously as he slowly retreated, preparing to escape.

"You're also from the 'company'? Are you in cahoots with the people who picked me up..."

The young man's smile deepened, and he shook his head gently: "I did live in that place for a while, specifically eighteen years, four days, two and a half hours, and two minutes. Hmm... that was a truly memorable time."

"However, I'm not 'in cahoots' with the person who picked you up."

Miles ignored the young man's words and turned sharply to run away, trying to escape.

"I guess you'll be back in two minutes and forty seconds."

The sound from behind made Miles' heart tighten. He instinctively glanced at the time and quickened his pace, rushing out.

Surprisingly, he left the waiting room without any hindrance, only feeling the biting cold rain hitting his face.

With nothing but a vast expanse of sky and earth, Miles could barely tell where to run. He ran wildly, shaking off the rain, and put his hands in his pockets, hoping to draw warmth from the only thing that could give him a sense of security—a small box.

"..."

Miles stood frozen, his body stiff. Incredulously, he increased the rubbing motion, repeating it several times until he turned the pocket inside out, but it was still empty.

The little box is gone; he has lost his means of survival.

Miles trembled as he frantically searched for when he had lost it. He immediately remembered the scene of falling in the waiting room and turned around to run back.

Back in the waiting room, a pale-faced Miles wiped the rain from his face and frantically crawled on the floor, searching everywhere for the lost box, but no matter how carefully he looked, he found nothing.

"Are you looking for this?"

A soft voice sounded, and Miles slowly raised his head. The young man lying on the bench was holding his small box and casually playing with it.

He raised his wrist, looked at the time marked on the luxury watch, and forced himself to remain calm, only to feel a chill on the tip of his nose, a racing heart, and a dull ache in his stomach.

This is a physiological phenomenon caused by fear.

"What...what is your purpose? I will definitely help you if I can."

The young man smiled and shook his head, then handed over the small box he was holding.

“Mr. Miles, you can’t help me much. I’m just chatting with you to pass the time because this dreary rain is making me bored. That’s all.”

Miles swallowed hard, refusing to take the small box, and instead lowered his head, speaking humbly:
"Can I ask you how to live a normal life? Not just for a few minutes, a few hours, or a few days?"

"That's easy to handle."

The young man withdrew his hand from the small box, a smile playing on his lips, and tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the bench.

"You just need to leave here now."

Miles looked up in astonishment, asking incredulously, "It's that simple? What about the people who picked me up? Won't the 'company' take action against me? How am I supposed to live after this...?"

His questioning voice gradually faded under the young man's indifferent gaze, until he finally fell silent.

"If life has a fork in the road, this is it. So... take your things and leave, or just leave. Choose one."

After saying this, the young man closed his eyes, and only a heavy breathing sound remained in the small space.

A few seconds later, the young man heard footsteps fading into the distance. At first, they were slow, but after a few steps they gradually quickened and finally mingled into the rain without hesitation.

"He's not exactly stupid."

The young man smiled slightly, crossed his legs, and comfortably lay back in the chair for a nap.

A few minutes later, two beams of light pierced through the rain and hit the waiting room. The sound of the train door opening rang out, followed by the sound of rain being splashed up by footsteps.

"The place I arranged to meet you at should have been at the crossroads."

The voice was calm and capable but lacked warmth, carrying a hint of impatience, but it was quickly suppressed.

The young man slowly opened his eyes, stood up from the bench, and saw the man in front of him dressed in a neat suit, exuding an aura of "social elite." He then smiled broadly.

"Sorry, the rain is too heavy, so I came here to take shelter from the rain."

The man's eyes darkened, and he spoke coldly, "Do you remember the code we agreed on?"

"of course I remember."

The young man smiled and read out four words: "Embrace the past."

"Looking to the future."

The man accepted the signal, nodded slightly, and extended his right hand to the young man.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lu Ke. I am Xue Pengkai, the team leader of the security department of Future Technology Company. You are more composed than I expected.”

This was truly a long-awaited and touching reunion.

Lu Ke smiled gently and took the hand that Xue Pengkai offered.

“You’re more energetic than I expected, Mr. Xue.”

(End of this chapter)