Chapter 82: A World Where Only My Dreams Are ‘Wounded’ (8)

“Asano, go back now,” Qiao Zhe waved at Asano Mirai, and EX soared into the sky.

When it came to how he addressed her, Asano Mirai preferred he called her by her given name, but the word “Mirai” felt awkward to Qiao Zhe. It took some getting used to, since the human host of Mebius was called Hibino Mirai. If he called Asano Mirai simply Mirai, he would always think of Mebius.

As EX gradually receded into the distance, Asano Mirai withdrew her gaze, a smile curving her lips as she walked lightly back indoors.

“A friend, you say? I bet that friend is really you, Jojo,” she mused, not bothering to expose Jojo’s attempt at concealment. Knowing someone’s secret was amusing to Asano Mirai, more intriguing than researching ancient creatures.

She blushed as her thoughts wandered, “His body is really strong... I doubt a normal human could handle it. Ugh, what am I thinking!” The harder she tried not to think about it, the more her mind insisted—if only she could shift her attention elsewhere.

Covering her face with both hands, her mind was awash in fragmented, blurry images.

Qiao Zhe, for his part, was perfectly aware of what she was plotting. Experience had granted him a practiced skill in polite refusals, and through their conversation he had gleaned other information as well.

The first Gob—appearing on Earth—was not an extinction envoy, nor a vanguard weapon, but a monster from another planet. It had been teleported to Earth by the extinction envoy using a wormhole.

Faced with an utterly alien environment, Gob didn’t even need to be controlled. Like any creature abruptly torn from its familiar territory and thrust onto a strange world, it became ferocious out of fear.

For self-preservation, it instinctively destroyed human cities—a basic monster urge. Just releasing them ensured they would attack.

“Wormhole...” Qiao Zhe set EX to autopilot, his expression thoughtful.

Gob, unlucky as it was, had been exploited by the extinction envoy. But monsters teleported here to threaten Earth and humanity would likely have to be eliminated.

Earth’s native monsters mostly slept deep underground, rarely surfacing. Those from other planets were a different story.

After all, this wasn’t the Gaia world; what monsters ate was another issue entirely.

If monsters were simply released, extinction envoys would see how soft-hearted Earth’s defenders were and send even more monsters of the same kind.

Ultimately, unless the wormhole itself was dealt with, Earth would remain on the defensive.

“Fujimiya once opened a wormhole, but the enemy had a counter-barrier.”

In the original TV series, Fujimiya, wracked with guilt over his own misdeeds, attempted a suicide attack against the extinction envoy. Using newly developed human weaponry and Gaia’s Photon Blade, he managed to open the extinction envoy’s wormhole—but as he flew toward it with high explosives, the barrier stopped him.

Recalling those details, Qiao Zhe sank into thought.

What exactly was the extinction envoy? The TV series never explained, and it always muddied the waters. Gob wasn’t one of their monsters, but Mezzard certainly was, as were the metallic lifeforms.

“Root Extinction Envoy” was only a name humanity gave its enemy. Its true nature, or where it hid in the universe, remained a mystery.

Elsewhere—

Inside Fujimiya’s personal base.

While waiting for Qiao Zhe, Wo Meng received another video call from Ti Cheng.

“Where are you now? Why haven’t you returned to the sky base?”

On the communicator’s small screen, Ti Cheng’s expression was scrutinizing. Not only had Wo Meng failed to return, he hadn’t even checked in—Ti Cheng suspected he was slacking off.

“I’m discussing something with Fujimiya,” Wo Meng said, moving beside Fujimiya so he appeared in the frame. “I’ll head back when EX arrives.”

“Step aside,” Fujimiya glanced at Wo Meng, his brow furrowing.

Seeing Fujimiya focused on his designs, Wo Meng sheepishly moved away.

Thankfully, the communicator’s lens had only captured Fujimiya’s face; the bomb he was tinkering with went unseen. Though it looked nothing like a bomb—more like black technology—Ti Cheng probably wouldn’t understand it anyway, but its power was enough to demolish a building, so caution was necessary.

Ti Cheng was surprised to see Fujimiya, not expecting Wo Meng to be so familiar with him. But since Shishi had vouched for it, he didn’t press further.

“Didn’t Qiao Zhe leave to pick you up ages ago?” Ti Cheng asked in bewilderment.

“He got held up with something,” Wo Meng explained for Qiao Zhe, feeling a little resentful inside.

Pick him up? If he hadn’t just called Jojo, that guy might have forgotten him entirely tonight!

After hanging up with Ti Cheng, Wo Meng’s face showed indignation.

Jojo, after dealing with the ancient monster, had gone straight to Asano Mirai’s house. Who knew what was going on between the two of them—Asano Mirai actually brought Jojo home.

From what Wo Meng knew, Asano Mirai was a solitary person, prone to conflict. It was hard to imagine Jojo getting along so well with her.

When Wo Meng had video-called, he saw the two chatting enthusiastically. It all seemed normal, but something felt off.

Especially the look on Asano Mirai’s face—it was impossible for Wo Meng not to let his thoughts wander.

“That Jojo—while I was searching everywhere for Renlong, he was off having a rendezvous with a woman.”

Grumbling, Wo Meng suddenly heard voices behind him—it sounded like Fujimiya was talking.

Curious, Wo Meng turned to look.

Inamori approached, carrying a bowl of noodles. She went to Fujimiya and said, “Eat something before you continue. You haven’t had a meal since you got back.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Fujimiya said, setting aside his work.

They moved to the table. Inamori placed the noodles down, tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and said, “Don’t mention it. Give it a try—I’m not sure if it suits your taste.”

“The aroma is wonderful. Just smelling it makes me hungry—it must be delicious.” Fujimiya said, picking up his chopsticks.

The noodles had egg and beef; as he stirred them, the fragrance intensified.

Wo Meng’s stomach growled twice at the scent.

Unable to resist, he swallowed and moved closer. “Dr. Inamori, I haven’t eaten either.”

Wo Meng’s eyes were full of hope, clearly wanting to join in.

Inamori had been focused on Fujimiya, but now looked up at Wo Meng. “Ah? Sorry, I only made enough for Fujimiya—I forgot about you.”

Wo Meng: “???”

Seriously? She didn’t even think of me—should I just leave?

(End of chapter)