Chapter 4: Scene of Tragedy

The earlier explosion had not harmed the translucent shadow in the slightest; every shard of debris and flying fragment passed directly through it. David wanted to command the translucent shadow to return, but instead, he sensed an emotion of satisfaction emanating from it, as if it had just feasted on something.

Outside his view, the translucent shadow lingered ten meters away from him—the furthest distance it could stray. That precise spot also marked where the bookstore's entrance had once been, now vanished entirely. Streams of unseen, formless matter were drawn toward the translucent shadow, flying to it and merging into its body.

If anyone had counted, they would have found the number of these formless substances exactly matched the number of the dead.

David felt his connection with the translucent shadow growing stronger. If before their bond was like a 2G mobile network, now it was more akin to 3G—this was how he perceived it. He did not understand what was happening, but he sensed that the translucent shadow was unharmed, even benefited in some way, so he did not interfere.

After all, he had only possessed the translucent shadow for a short time—so short that he hadn’t truly understood its abilities.

David tried to stand. The wound on his back ached, but it didn’t hinder him much. He made his way toward the restroom doorway, now missing its metal door.

Stepping gingerly through the puddles on the floor, he navigated the debris scattered everywhere by the explosion.

Suddenly, he stopped. He had spotted a metallic, cylindrical object—just the right thickness for a hand to grasp, about twenty centimeters long, with both ends sealed by a black, glass-like mirror surface. In this chaotic environment, the cylinder was immaculate, so spotless that it was impossible not to notice.

Even with his limited knowledge of this world, David knew this was no ordinary object. He bent down and picked it up. He did not do so out of a desire to possess it, but rather because he could not simply leave it there—though curiosity played a part as well.

He slipped the metal cylinder into his pocket and left the restroom. Compared to the restroom, the devastation in the bookstore’s main hall was even more severe.

Acrid smoke filled the entire bookstore. The transparent glass wall and entrance were gone. Clotted blood was everywhere, and both intact and mangled human remains lay scattered inside and outside the store.

When the personal flight pod crashed into the crowd, its speed—compounded by the crush of people—made escape impossible. In the end, the pod broke apart, and its backup energy source exploded, leaving few survivors in the area.

David felt nauseated. He knew nearly a hundred people had gathered outside the bookstore, yet there were barely a dozen intact bodies now. The scene was dominated by metal fragments and grotesque pieces of flesh.

His mind was blank, but a chorus of anguished moans quickly brought him back to his senses.

David started toward one of the struggling survivors, intent on helping, when he heard sirens overhead. Two blue-and-white police patrol flyers drew near.

He stopped. Wounds like these were best treated by professionals; with rescuers arriving, his help was no longer needed.

The blue-and-white patrol craft hovered above the street in front of the bookstore, and more than a dozen uniformed police officers jumped down.

For a moment, the officers were stunned by the carnage, then sprang into action with urgent shouts.

David, the only one able to stand unaided, naturally drew special attention. One officer approached him.

“Are you all right?” a middle-aged officer asked, scanning David’s identity bracelet with a device while speaking.

David shook his head and remained silent—he had just spotted Jessica’s body.

The girl who had walked with him that morning now lay in a pool of blood, a fragment of the personal flight pod lodged in her heart.

“I’m Officer Bob. Medical personnel will be here soon to tend to your wounds,” the officer said after glancing at his device and seeing David was a student. Noting David’s expression, he reached out and patted him comfortingly.

David had none of Jessica’s memories, but he knew she and his predecessor had at least been friends; otherwise, they would not have come to the bookstore together.

He could not say what he felt about Jessica’s death—it was not grief or sorrow, but fear, a profound and consuming fear. Had he not sensed the danger through the translucent shadow, he too would be among the corpses.

He nodded vacantly at Officer Bob, his eyes never leaving Jessica’s body.

The next to arrive were the white ambulance flyers; the city’s emergency response was so swift it startled David.

Barely three minutes had passed since the explosion, and already the police and medics had all arrived.

This did not cheer David. Instead, it confirmed how dangerous this place was—only a city accustomed to frequent disasters could maintain such rapid response.

He thought of the windowless buildings, of the city he had seen. Beauty was not the priority here—durability was.

A medic treated the wound on his back and applied medicine to his burned hand.

Once the medics assured him his injuries were not serious, David declined to board the ambulance flyer to the hospital. Partly, he wanted to go home—only there did he feel any sense of safety. Another reason was that all those loaded onto the ambulance flyers were gravely injured; those still able to scream were considered the lucky ones.

Knowing he was not seriously hurt, he had no wish to witness further misery.

He left his contact information with Officer Bob, via his identity bracelet, so the police could reach him later, and was permitted to leave the bookstore.

As he departed, he sensed the translucent shadow following close behind, unseen by any police officer.

He ran the three kilometers home at full speed, ignoring the curious glances of passersby at his battered appearance.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut and leaned against it, exhausted.

Though he had died once before, today’s peril had truly shaken him.

He slid to the floor, feeling utterly powerless. From a peaceful world, he had arrived in one full of dangers he did not understand, and the fear in his heart was overwhelming.

The novelty of this world had been shattered by sudden danger—especially by the sight of Jessica, someone he knew, dying before his eyes. It was an experience he had never had in his previous life.

Now, more than anything, he wished for someone to comfort him. But with his memories still unrecovered, he had no one to turn to; besides, his transmigration was his greatest secret, not something to be shared. He thought of the translucent shadow.

At that thought, the translucent shadow, sensing his desire, emerged from invisibility and sat beside him.

Looking at the shadowy figure at his side, David felt a rare sense of solace. In his most perilous moment, the translucent shadow had saved him.

He remembered seeing the shadow last night—how frightened he’d been at first, then relieved when he realized it posed no threat. He’d even thought of it as his transmigrator’s golden finger and had tried all sorts of laughable methods to “activate” it.

Now, his heart was filled only with gratitude. Like a friend, he reached out and patted the translucent shadow.