There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

It all seems to have really started with my time travel.

"Dad, what's the 'God of a Thousand Faces' doing here? He can't be here to pay us wages, can he?" I asked with a wry smile.

Old Man Hook stared at me for a long time before speaking: "He came here to express two things. First, he forbids you from setting foot in this parallel world again. The performance He is leading has entered a new act, and if you interfere in the slightest, you will only suffer destruction."

I smiled slightly at those threatening words. "It seems we intruders have put a lot of pressure on him."

Old Man Hook glanced at me and said with displeasure, "Don't be so smug about your reckless actions. If it weren't for that kid Rhodes helping you out, you would have been wiped out long ago."

"Oh... what was his other meaning?"

“He said you carry the mark of chaos, and the anchor of reality has already rung the bell; this is just the beginning of the return to chaos.”

Old Man Hook finished speaking slowly, his gaze sharp as he looked at me, pointing and saying, "'The King of a Thousand Faces' didn't directly erase your existence, apparently because of the mark 'The Final Calamity' has on you. You achieved your transmigration through 'The Final Calamity,' making him unwilling to easily confront you. But the second point…"

I suddenly remembered that nameless weapon manuscript.

This time, only two of them were used. One was the "positron cannon," which had gone awry. In practice, it had proven capable of breaking down the cages that imprisoned the unspeakable, awakening these terrifying beings. If someone were to abuse its destructive power, it could leave the world riddled with holes, attracting countless malevolent gazes.

Secondly, it served as a reality stabilizing anchor. This weapon had an astonishing effect, preventing the "Deepsea Cataclysm" from distorting and alienating this space, and severely damaging the Deepsea Dwellers.

But given the wicked nature of the "Thousand-Faced God," how could he possibly have mixed a Nine-Turn Resurrection Pill into the poison? There must be some ulterior motive behind this.

From this statement, I even suspect that all the plot points laid out by the "God of a Thousand Faces" might be to make us actively use our reality anchors...

This is similar to the tricks used in shopping malls to offer discounts. Given the same price and type of goods, if a discounted product is placed among a pile of goods at full price, then driven by human nature's pursuit of profit, the discounted item will definitely sell the best.

This feeling of being unable to detect something beforehand, only to discover afterwards that you've fallen into a trap, is exactly the way the "God of a Thousand Faces" likes to operate!

"The anchor of reality is flawed!" I said through gritted teeth.

Old Man Hook sarcastically remarked without any mercy, "You only learn your lesson after being tricked? Even if you suffer for another hundred years, you can still be considered a person of sound mind."

"...Could you please give me some face?"

The old man retorted rudely, "So, do you value your reputation or your life?"

"...Oh no. Hey, hey, have I found my way home yet? I've been wandering around there for half a month now, you haven't found a way yet, have you?" I quickly changed the subject.

Old Man Hook sighed, "Originally, it was already a bit difficult for that old bastard Yorkson to use the power of the 'Final Calamity' to travel through time after his spirit was injured. And just now, the 'God of a Thousand Faces' seemed to dislike you and deliberately came to disrupt the connection between the Dream Gate and the real world..."

"There's no way to re-anchor in space now, nor is there any way to teleport. The only option is to send you back to the planet where reality is intertwined."

“…You mean I have to go back to being a savage?” I asked, breaking down.

Old Man Hook nodded: "Yes, that's a very apt summary."

Upon hearing this, I immediately rolled around on the spot and said fiercely, "Don't even think about it! If you can't come up with a plan today, I'll stay in this dream world for the rest of my life rather than go back. I'll turn up the volume of all the weird songs in my head to the maximum and play 'The Drunken Butterfly' for you every day!"

When Old Man Hook saw my expression, he realized that what I was saying was indeed ill-intentioned, or perhaps he was wary of the mental pollution I was constantly releasing, so he quickly said...

"Don't worry, there are ways. The main problem right now is that, under the interference, we can't pinpoint the location of Mineral Town..."

Old Man Hook's eyes darted around. "Why don't you go back and look for other solutions? It's better than waiting here in vain. If Old Yorkson wakes up in the meantime, your chances will be even better!"

That old bastard...

"Take me back."

I said it expressionlessly.

Old Man Hook was overjoyed: "You fell for it so easily... no, I mean, you came to your senses so easily?"

I gritted my teeth and stared at him, uttering each word through clenched teeth.

"I don't believe you for a second! I'd rather go back and steal a spaceship and fly it back myself!"

Chapter 436 Frieza's Super Dream Theory

The scorching sun shines relentlessly on this land, trying to squeeze every last drop of moisture from the soil.

The rising air also became distorted under the high temperature, refracting at strange angles, and some black surface could be vaguely seen on the ground, making people think that they could see traces of water.

But the result is always disappointing, because those who eventually get close will only find a barren Gobi desert and a few sun-dried, peeling pebbles.

"Did that old man trick me again? He promised to teleport me back to the tavern's location. I thought I'd wake up in bed. How did I end up in the middle of nowhere again?"

I muttered to myself, wrapped my head with my clothes to protect myself from sudden heatstroke. Looking towards the sun, I slowly walked forward.

I don't recognize anything else, but I vividly remember this messy, broken dirt road beneath my feet. As far as I can tell, if I choose a direction and keep walking, I'm sure I'll find my Wasteland Tavern—provided I haven't gone astray.

But the Earth is round, so you can still get there even if you go the wrong way, right? Hahaha...

As I thought this, I relied on the power of the colonizer system to move quickly.

I was hurrying along when I suddenly noticed a series of distinct footprints on the ground. The footprints were scattered but clearly visible in the soil, and they looked like human footprints as well as animal hoofprints.

"Hey! Someone's there?" My mind immediately perked up. If I could just catch up with the person in front of me, wouldn't I be able to ask where they were?!

Thinking of this, I immediately sped up and started running. Anyway, with my physique modified by the colonizer system, I can handle cross-country running with a load at temperatures below 58 degrees Celsius, so accelerating now is no problem.

But to my surprise, after running forward for a while, I found that apart from the footprints being slightly clearer, I still couldn't see them on the road.

But I saw that the rising dust on the road ahead was becoming more and more obvious, almost forming a yellow dragon soaring into the sky, clearly indicating that someone was running wildly on the dirt road.

"That's strange, is this some kind of elementary school math problem? We're moving at the same speed and in the same direction?"

I gritted my teeth and kept running forward. I refused to believe that at my speed, which was comparable to that of the Mustang, I couldn't catch up with the AE86 in front of me.

I sprinted forward a little further and noticed that the number of human footprints on the ground had decreased significantly, while the animal hoof prints were much more prominent...

Fewer people? No, these people have clearly mounted ungulates and started galloping away!

"...I'd like to see whether you can escape faster or I can catch you faster!"

…………

The chase lasted for about an hour, and I noticed that the footprints on the ground were becoming more and more scattered. I started to see scattered sacks, abandoned goods, discarded pots and pans, and other things by the roadside.

Finally, I saw three camels lying on the ground foaming at the mouth by the roadside, and six merchants collapsed by the roadside, panting heavily.

I initially thought these people had done something wrong to be running away from me like that. But when they saw me, they didn't show any surprise at all; instead, they asked me, panting.

"Huff... Merchant on the road, did you encounter a migrating herd of beasts, being pursued by sand bandits, or being attacked by raiders from a nearby town? After running for so long... did you manage to escape?"

I stared blankly at the group of people in simple clothes in front of me and asked, "What are you talking about? Nobody's chasing me!"

The group exchanged glances, then the caravan leader said, "There's no need to hide anything. We won't betray your information. I saw you running there a long time ago. If there wasn't some danger, why would you do something so dangerous under the scorching sun!"

Oh... this is a bit embarrassing... they actually saw me a long time ago.

I was just chasing after these few people in front of me, but they thought someone was chasing me, so they started running after me.

After running all this way under the scorching sun, even the camels are exhausted, the cargo has all been abandoned, and the people are almost dead from exhaustion. If I tell them now that it was all a misunderstanding, wouldn't it be difficult to handle the situation?

How embarrassing! What should I do?! Ah... the best thing to do right now is to find a time machine!

"Ah... Frieza's minions were chasing me just now... but I've run away for so long and I should be fine now..." I mumbled.

The caravan leader, dressed in a strange manner, looked at me and suddenly said, "You just arrived from outside, haven't you? An interstellar refugee or a runaway from the town?"

I was shocked: "How did you know?"

Several caravan members looked at their leader with admiration. The leader, slightly proud, raised his head, pointed at me, and said to the members, "When you're out trading, the first thing you need is a keen eye! I saw him running behind you just now, so I told you there was definitely danger behind you. Throw away the goods if you need to; survival is the most important thing! Were you still doubting me just now?"

The five caravan members standing nearby immediately shook their heads vigorously.

...So it was you, you bastard, who talked nonsense and made things so complicated?

Having established his authority, the caravan leader said to me with satisfaction, "Young man, did you think your pursuers left because they couldn't catch up? You're too naive!"

I humbly asked, "Then... what do you think is the reason?"

That's when I noticed that the caravan leader had strange paint on his face, making his face look colorful and like a savage from a tribe.

"The Freud you're talking about... ah... Freud?" The caravan leader seemed to have a bad memory.

“Frieza. If he's the dream interpreter Freud, then we might as well just call him Mewtwo,” I added.

"Let's call it Mewtwo then... Is there such a force around here?" the caravan leader asked curiously.

I said earnestly, "Yes, there is. Mewtwo is a secret weapon that Team Rocket trained, but he accidentally escaped into space and became the Emperor of the Universe before changing his name to Frieza. He came back this time to hunt down Team Rocket. If it weren't for my good luck, James would have perished at the base along with Jessie and Meowth..."

My words left the caravan leader speechless, and his men listened intently, glancing at their leader in hopes that their all-powerful leader would come out and answer their questions.

The caravan leader coughed lightly and said quite naturally, "Oh... Team Rocket... I knew it sooner! Do you know why Franky's men retreated after chasing us this far?"

“I already said it’s Frieza! Fine, Franky it is… I’ll absorb him into the Straw Hat Pirates after I build them… Oh no, I mean, I’m also confused about this!” I continued, following his lead.

The caravan leader glanced smugly at his caravan members, unwittingly gaining another wave of admiration, before finally speaking, keeping them in suspense.

"This Fred Weasley is afraid to set foot on this land. Do you understand?"

That name is way too long! Besides, he's already been killed by the Death Eaters, so please don't resurrect any strange characters!

"This piece of land?" I asked.

The caravan leader, his eyes filled with unfathomable mystery, said in a low voice, "This land is a place where all vendettas and harm are forbidden. All those who dare to disobey have had their lives taken without mercy. For ahead lies land protected by the sacred decree of Lord Shaflin!"

Huh? Shaffrin?

Another strange character has appeared!

Chapter 437 A Young Man Arrives in the Trade Zone

It took most of the day to convince them that the danger was over, and he even went back to carry back two bags of abandoned goods before they believed that the people chasing them had left.

Running around in such high temperatures is extremely dangerous, so I told them to rest where they were and I went to retrieve the goods they had brought out.

...I mainly feel bad. Who knew that my small action would have such a big impact on them?

Along the dirt trade route, besides the pots and pans, fur sleeping bags, and other essential items they always carried, I also picked up two heavy bags of goods that didn't look like ordinary things. When I opened them, I found they were filled with a kind of grayish-brown ore.

Why are they carrying such heavy things when they go out to trade? This group is a bit strange. Given the desolate location of my Qin Chuan Tavern, would anyone buy these things?

When I returned to the caravan, the men stared at me in disbelief. The caravan leader stammered, "Put...put it down...thank you, young man..."

I also heard a caravan member wearing a leather vest behind me whisper to his companion, "This guy... he's incredibly strong..."

His companion quickly covered his mouth: "Yeah... he's as strong as a camel all by himself... Ahhh, look down, he seems to have heard you..."

...It's just carrying a bag of ore in each hand, weighing only 80 or 90 kilograms, what's wrong with that?

Among these people, the older caravan leader was the most composed. Whether it was out of gratitude for my kindness or out of caution at me taking the goods with one hand, he took the initiative to chat with me and introduce himself.