Shi Hanfeng’s figure shifted from illusion to reality in the dim light of the teleportation room, the afterimages in his vision fading away like a receding tide, replaced by familiar scenery.
The soft texture of a light gray fabric sofa pressed against his back, a low wooden table reflected the gentle overhead light, and beside it, a pot of vibrant monstera leaves spread out, full of life.
The feeling of returning was completely different from teleporting over. It was so smooth, it was like walking from one room to another.
This excessive comfort actually surprised Shi Hanfeng, who had already braced himself.
He relaxed slightly, sinking back into the sofa, the expensive leather creaking softly.
Only then did he fully unwind.
Deep in his mind, the scene of that world-destroying strike replayed over and over—the scorching light tearing through the sky, precisely blasting onto Green Moon, the explosion and collapse replaying in his brain.
‘The power really lives up to the name Tianhuo, even if it’s one-use…’
He evaluated silently, his fingertips unconsciously tapping his knee, simulating the sensation of using it.
‘Kevin’s move was fierce. If I could draw a Kevin template or bring out Tianhuo, that would be great.’
‘Even if I didn’t take out that petty god directly, this clubbing was enough to give it a headache. The hole in Green Moon is so big, patching it up will take effort, right? In the short term, it shouldn’t have time to cause trouble…’
He hadn’t finished his brief post-battle reflection when a noisy voice erupted beside him, instantly shattering the room’s tranquility.
“Ha! I’m back! I finally don’t have to eat that damned black bread that chips your teeth and that burnt meat that tastes only of salt! Reality World, your emperor has return—”
The owner of the voice had also just completed transmission, waving his arms in excitement as if to embrace the entire room.
But when his gaze swept across the adjacent sofa, his movements and voice abruptly stopped like a rooster with its neck wrung.
Shi Hanfeng lazily lifted his eyelids, glancing at the source.
It was his close friend, but his appearance had changed dramatically. The cool combat uniform from before was gone, replaced by a rough but sturdy suede jacket sewn from unknown beast hide, with bits of dried mud clinging to the edges.
His skin was rougher and darker, his hair a windblown mess as if he’d endured days and nights in the wild, radiating a wild aura like he’d just walked out of a survival show.
“Can’t you be a little more composed? Shouting like that.”
Shi Hanfeng’s tone was flat, with a trace of post-battle languor.
“Be like me, Yunzi.”
Xu Chaoyun didn’t hear the latter part of his words at all.
He stared at this stranger in the room, scanning up and down, left and right, three times, his face full of question marks.
“Who are you?”
He finally found his voice, disbelief and suspicion coloring his words.
The face looked a bit familiar, but the combination, the aura—completely off.
Shi Hanfeng sighed. He’d expected this.
“How long has it been, and you don’t recognize your own father?”
He used their usual bantering tone, trying to break the awkwardness.
Hearing that annoying address and familiar cadence, Xu Chaoyun’s confusion deepened.
He suddenly leaned in, squinting to scrutinize closely.
Uncertain. Another look. Still weird.
“Fengzi?! Is it really you?!”
Once he confirmed the identity, Xu Chaoyun was even more incredulous.
“You went in once and got a full-body gene mod and a top-tier beauty facelift? Even your race—not just the vibe, your whole species changed! Does Qiming Star offer premium services like this? How much does it cost?”
He babbled, reaching out unconsciously to pinch Shi Hanfeng’s cheek, wanting to verify if that flawless skin was real.
Shi Hanfeng snapped back to reality from reminiscing about Tianhuo and Green Moon.
“Pa!”
Shi Hanfeng unceremoniously slapped away the offending paw with a crisp sound.
“Get lost. I’m not interested in men.”
He shook his hand disdainfully.
“Look all you want, but no touching.”
The pain in his hand and the familiar disdain in the other’s tone finally forced Xu Chaoyun to accept reality.
The dazzling, almost otherworldly, noble and lazy guy before him really was his gaming buddy who used to squat by the road eating skewers.
He withdrew his hand, rubbing his reddened knuckles, his expression shifting from shock to sorrowful mockery.
“Ah! The prejudice in people’s hearts is a mountain! Oh no, a mountain! A massive mountain!”
He waved his arms.
“Fengzi, you can’t blame me! The change is just outrageous, you know? I almost thought some noble young lord wandered in.”
Shi Hanfeng maintained his calm, even slightly exasperated expression, casting a bland glance at his friend and trying to make it all seem trivial.
“You’re just inexperienced.”
His tone was plain, as if discussing the weather.
“It’s an innate effect of my talent, loaded a special character template, you know? Like changing skins in a game. Attribute boosts are the main point.”
Yet, Xu Chaoyun clearly missed the attribute part.
He circled around Shi Hanfeng, clicking his tongue in amazement, his gaze as if appraising a rare treasure.
“Just changing hairstyle and eye color can cause a nuclear-level boost to looks? Why didn’t I see this potential before? Fine, I admit you used to be a little handsome, but now… tsk, indeed a tad better than me—though barely. How many clueless girls will you ruin like this?”
“Cut it out.”
Shi Hanfeng interrupted his review, annoyed.
“If I was as attractive as you claim, would I still be single?”
A few jokes exchanged, the subtle distance from time apart faded, and their familiar rhythm returned.
Sitting side by side on the sofa, the conversation naturally turned to their first mission experiences.
“So, what happened on your end?”
Xu Chaoyun took the initiative, tugging at his beast-hide jacket.
“I got thrown into some medieval backwater. The village was tiny, houses made of wood, muddy roads everywhere. The villagers kept mumbling about witch curses in the forest. Too bad, I wandered for days—didn’t even see anyone, let alone a witch.”
“The mission was simple, just help them hunt a pack of wild wolves that kept harassing livestock. Those wolves were tough—took some work. But I managed. Only downside was eating that brick-hard black bread and bloody, unsalted roast meat every day.”
“The only gain was learning some self-defense from the village hunters. Honestly, Swordsmanship Talent is OP. You should’ve seen the hunter’s freaked-out face.”
Thinking of his suffering and the self-proclaimed sword master’s reaction to his progress, Xu Chaoyun wore a complex expression.
After hearing his friend’s story, Shi Hanfeng pondered, choosing his words.
He didn’t intend to lay everything bare—the Goblin god, the moon-splitting strike, all too over-the-top.
“It was a Western fantasy world. The mission was to clear a small Goblin nest near a human village.”
His tone was concise, deliberately downplaying the danger.
“Lots of battles. Those little green dwarves were numerous, a bit of trouble. But the rewards were decent—got some gear, learned a few practical skills.”
He equipped a helmet to prove his words, speaking as casually as discussing a game dungeon run, focusing on ‘frequent battles’ and ‘minor gains,’ glossing over the rest.
But Xu Chaoyun, as always, latched onto the most random detail.
He filtered out the battle talk, eyes lighting up, seizing on a minor point.
“Wait! You said you cleared the nest? Then what? Wasn’t there anything else? Like rescuing someone?”
He’d noticed Shi Hanfeng’s brief pause.
Shi Hanfeng hesitated, surprised by his friend’s sharp intuition, and replied vaguely, “Yeah, I saved a nun who was captured by Goblins along the way.”
He tried to skip over it.
“A nun?!”
Xu Chaoyun’s pitch jumped, eyes blazing with gossiping fire.
“Was she pretty?!”
He leaned forward, face screaming, ‘Give me details!’
Shi Hanfeng was unsettled by the sudden enthusiasm, rubbing his chin.
Aili’s face surfaced in his mind—GOBLIN SLAYER’s most popular female character, her looks and figure unquestionable. The only flaw was her backstory, but with his intervention, that was all history.
“If I had to rate…”
He chose his words carefully.
“About 90 points.”
That was his comprehensive judgment—after all, 2D traits translated to real life were overwhelming.
“Ninety?! That’s top-tier beauty!”
Xu Chaoyun nearly leaped off the sofa.
He knew all too well how picky his buddy was with looks. His ratings for screen actresses and influencers rarely exceeded 85 unless both looks and aura were exceptional.
And a native nun from another world, bare-faced, could score 90?
“Different world, gene pool’s different—high looks aren’t that odd, right?”
Shi Hanfeng tried to douse his friend’s flames with logic, a trace of disdain on his face.
“Don’t you watch those 3D sections? Their models’ looks and figures are just as unrealistic. What’s there to fuss over?”
But Xu Chaoyun wasn’t buying it.
He stared at Shi Hanfeng, eyes sharp as a detective who’d found a crucial clue.
“Don’t change the subject! That’s not the point! Then what? You saved her—then what? Did you at least say something? There’s always something after the hero saves the beauty!”
“What could happen? Mission over, I came back.”
Shi Hanfeng looked away, tone still calm.
“No way! Didn’t you say you gave her equipment? What was it?”
Xu Chaoyun pressed relentlessly.
“Just two pieces I couldn’t use—a ring and a crest.”
Shi Hanfeng answered vaguely, amazed at his friend’s gossip focus.
“Ri—ng—?”
Xu Chaoyun’s voice dragged out, as if he’d heard some earth-shattering secret.
“You gave a newly-met, 90-point, otherworldly beauty nun a ring?! And she accepted it?!”
His expression shifted from gossip to a mix of shock, condemnation, and the look of someone betrayed by a comrade, staring at Shi Hanfeng like a class enemy.
“Don’t make a fuss. It was loot from a monster, I couldn’t use it, and the stats fit her, so I gave it to her.”
Shi Hanfeng felt awkward under the gaze, a hint of embarrassment slipping into his tone.
“I’ve got a good sword here for you too—want it or not? If not, I’ll toss it.”
“Yes! Of course I want it!”
Xu Chaoyun blurted, then caught himself and slapped his thigh.
“Wait! Almost got sidetracked again! How can a sword compare to a ring? The meaning isn’t the same! Fengzi, as I know you, you’re not usually this dense about feelings! Don’t tell me you felt nothing! You’re fooling nobody!”
The air fell silent.
The gentle light of the teleportation room shone on them, illuminating Shi Hanfeng’s pursed lips and Xu Chaoyun’s serious face.
Shi Hanfeng’s impatience and indifference slowly faded.
He turned, meeting Xu Chaoyun’s eyes, his gaze deepening, no longer as casual.
He was silent for a few seconds, as if gathering his thoughts, or examining his own heart.
“Yunzi,” he said, his voice lower and more earnest.
“Be honest—after seeing other worlds, if given a beautiful woman who’d follow you anywhere, even if the next world was just a medieval village with nothing but black bread to eat, would you willingly stay?”
Xu Chaoyun was taken aback.
He wanted to retort, “Of course, if such a beauty were with me,” but the words died in his throat.
He remembered that backward, isolated village—the allure of beauty was strong, but the thrill of a successful hunt, the desire to explore new worlds…
He realized he couldn’t give a certain answer.
How could one, after seeing a broader world, be content to remain forever in a single corner—even if that corner held breathtaking beauty?
Looking into Shi Hanfeng’s calm yet serious eyes, he began to understand.
Shi Hanfeng didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation and realization on his friend’s face.
He continued, his tone calm but laced with clear reason—and perhaps a trace of coldness.
“So I can’t promise her anything—not even a hint or vague hope.”
“Not until I find a way to travel freely, or have the power and resolve to bear a cross-world commitment.”
He exhaled, his gaze seeming to pierce through the room toward some distant, uncertain place.
“The best choice is not to give a promise you aren’t sure you can keep—or leave behind hope that only brings more waiting and pain.”
“The disappointment after hope is far more cruel than never having hope at all.”
His voice was soft, but clear in the room.
This wasn’t an excuse, but a choice made after calm deliberation, based on personal principles.
There was perhaps a hint of regret, but more was a clear recognition of reality and restraint for the sake of both sides.
Xu Chaoyun opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing.
He simply fell silent for a moment, then heavily patted Shi Hanfeng’s shoulder—understanding his choice in his own way.
Birds of a feather flock together. At their core, both were souls hungry for novelty, eager for the unknown, unwilling to be bound.
The monthly teleportation opportunity from Destiny Space was more enticing than any single world’s ties—no matter how beautiful the people or events there might be.
The path ahead was a sea of stars, not a gentle harbor.
After a brief silence, Xu Chaoyun was the first to recover his boisterous self, slinging his arm around Shi Hanfeng’s neck.
“All right, all right, I get it, you’re a gentleman, a paragon of virtue! Let’s go see if Miss Ling Shan’er has anything else to say, then grab a good meal—I’m starving! You owe me 50 for today, don’t think about skipping out!”
Shi Hanfeng staggered from the chokehold, any trace of depth instantly vanishing as he broke free, exasperated.
“Now this, you remember? Don’t worry, I’m rich now—I’ll stuff you!”