Simultaneously traversing: traversing countless heavens

Chapter 3: Cliff Town

Not far from the cliffside town known for its steep cliffs, three figures were trudging along the winding old road below.

The fog was so thick it wouldn't dissipate, like a damp, cold cotton blanket covering the world. The roadside bushes, the crooked wooden fences, and the blurry outlines of houses in the distance were all covered with heavy water droplets, as if the whole world was silently seeping water. Underfoot was mud worn down by years of grinding, saturated with moisture, becoming a slippery and highly absorbent trap.

"Pat...pat...pat..."

The sound of footsteps mingling with the mud rose and fell rhythmically, occasionally punctuated by heavy breathing.

"Damn it!"

A suppressed growl broke the rhythm. The burly figure in the middle of the group was struggling for the third time to pull his left foot, which was stuck in the mud, along with his heavy leather boot, which looked even worse than his face, out of the mud, kicking up a large clump of sticky mud.

His disheveled appearance may be related to his weight, which is far beyond that of an average person, but it is definitely due to the two enormous suitcases he carries with him, which look like they could fit half a dormitory room in them.

"My seventh-grade senior." Chen Motong, who was walking at the front with only a light red backpack and a small suitcase in her hand, turned around.

The fog made her wine-red hair stand out even more. She raised an eyebrow, her tone full of teasing, "You don't actually think the academy invited us to this godforsaken place for a vacation, do you?"

Zhou Yi, at the very back of the group, appeared the most relaxed. He carried only a black travel bag and had put on high-top waterproof boots beforehand.

A vacation? Of course not. No resort would choose this kind of awful weather, this season, and this remote place that's barely even marked on a map.

They are here to carry out a mission—a long-standing tradition at Kassel College, a "rite of passage" that hybrid warriors must undergo. Every freshman must experience at least one combat operation led by the Executive Department during their first year, witnessing or even participating in battles against dragons or Deadpools, and facing the bloody cruelty of the dragon-slaying battlefield.

According to standard procedure, Zhou Yi and Chen Motong should have been observing and carrying out perimeter security in the "safe zone" of the battlefield, along with all the freshmen, under the guidance of experienced executive department specialists.

But, just kidding... perhaps it's because the team has Fingel, a theoretically "experienced" seventh-year student, as a "guarantee"...

In short, the three of them—Zhou Yi, Chen Motong, and the complaining Fingel—were formed into an independent team. Without an executive officer to guide them or any experienced mentors to back them up, they needed to complete a field mission assigned by the executive department on their own.

This is not uncommon at Kassel College. In fact, Chu Zihang is now alone, heading to a vast and chaotic slum in Bangladesh to wipe out a vicious and depraved mixed-race individual.

The town clings precariously to the cliffs of Spain's northwest coast, seemingly growing out of the rock itself. It's the dead of winter, all color stripped away, leaving only gray and white. A leaden sky hangs low, blurring into a hazy gray sea at the horizon. The cold, damp sea wind blows relentlessly, carrying a salty, piercing chill that seeps into your very bones.

The stone houses are stacked one on top of another, their paint peeling and their walls covered in dark moss, damp and glistening. The narrow, winding alleyways are paved with pebbles worn smooth by time, glistening with a slippery sheen. Apart from the sounds of the wind, the muffled crashing of waves against the cliffs, and the occasional creak of a loose window frame, the whole town is eerily quiet, permeated with a forgotten, lifeless atmosphere.

Out of place in this environment are the townspeople you encounter sporadically on the road.

Almost every resident, bundled up in thick clothing and with faces etched with deep lines by the sea wind, would stop and greet these three conspicuous outsiders with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically in heavily accented Spanish or simple English.

"¡Buenos días!¡Bienvenidos!" (Good morning! Welcome!)

"Frío, ¿verdad?¡El bar de la esquina tiene buen vino!" (Is it cold? The drinks at the corner bar are pretty good!)

Fingel took note.

Their destination was an old hotel perched almost on a cliff on the edge of town. The hotel was a sturdy stone and wood structure with a rugged exterior, its sign swaying gently in the sea breeze. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a warm aroma mingled with the smoky scent of burning firewood and the fragrance of food wafted out.

The owner was a typical middle-aged Mediterranean man, pot-bellied, with a thick, neatly trimmed gray beard and a ruddy complexion. He wasn't behind the counter, but sat alone by the huge glass window facing the sea, the fireplace roaring. A large glass of frothy local beer sat beside him, his gaze lingering on the hazy, fog-shrouded seascape outside, until the doorbell rang, bringing him back to his senses.

"Ah! Welcome! Welcome to my friends who have come from afar!" He instantly switched to an enthusiastic mode, stood up and opened his arms as if welcoming old friends he hadn't seen for many years. "In this kind of weather and season, those who can still come to our remote corner must be true adventurers or people guided by fate!" He winked and exaggerated his tone.

He introduced himself as Pedro, the inn's owner, chef, and "the best storyteller in town." Without a word, he served the three of them hot, spiced cider, then plopped down in a chair and began to recount the town's history and legends, complaining about the damned, nearly two-week-long foggy weather, and praising the local seafood and the rare wines in his cellar.

When Chen Motong cleverly steered the conversation toward accommodations, Pedro patted his chest vigorously.

"Rooms? Of course! The two best ones! Right next to each other, both facing the sea—though right now you can't see anything but fog." He led them up the creaking old staircase. "Get some rest, take a hot bath! This evening, I'll prepare a real feast for you—roasted lamb chops! I personally selected the lambs, marinated them all day with rosemary and my secret recipe!"

He pushed open the doors to two adjacent rooms. The interiors were much more comfortable than the exteriors, dry and warm, with simple and clean furnishings.

As for why there are two rooms instead of three, it's not because there are only two rooms left, but because isn't it common sense to pretend to be a couple when going out on a mission?

As for who the couple is, could it be Fingel and Chen Motong?

After settling in briefly, the three gathered in the slightly larger room shared by Zhou Yi and Chen Motong, closing the door tightly. Outside the window, the fog remained thick, and the faint sound of ocean waves could be heard.

"Alright, now it's mission time." Chen Motong's relaxed expression vanished as he took out a mini tactical tablet, pulled up the Norma-encrypted data, and projected it onto the wall. "Let's confirm the mission briefing one more time."

Location: San Carlos de la Roca, Galicia, Spain (also known as the cliff town).

"Mission Level: B+. Preliminary assessment indicates involvement of abnormal hybrid activities, possibly related to low-level dragon creatures or corrupted hybrids, exhibiting proactive aggression and a degree of organization."

"Core Anomaly: Over the past seven years, the number of tourists and hikers who went missing or failed to return as planned on hiking routes in and around the area exceeded the probability model of natural accidents by 37.8% according to Norma's retrospective analysis. In particular, the frequency has shown a discernible slight upward trend in the last eighteen months."

Fingel chewed on an energy bar he'd pulled from the depths of his suitcase, mumbling, "The key is the pattern. Norma said the number of missing persons is well-controlled, just a few each year, scattered across different seasons, looking like ordinary mountaineering accidents, falls into the sea, or getting lost. Unlike some out-of-control lunatics and lower dragons who would cause a massive massacre of a village."

"They're deliberately keeping a low profile, targeting only tourists, solo hikers, or small groups. These people have simple social relationships, no roots in the area, and even if someone investigates after they disappear, it's easy to conclude it was an accident in such a remote place. The townspeople..." Chen Motong recalled those overly enthusiastic smiles, "either they genuinely don't know, or they're numbed by a long-established norm, or even... deliberately ignoring it."

Chen Motong swiped through the data charts on the tablet: "Norma has delineated the most likely hunting area based on the last known location of the missing person, their activity patterns, and local weather and tidal data."

On the map projection, a red shadow covers a rugged coastal cliff, an abandoned lighthouse, and a steep path leading to a remote bay in the north of the town.

Zhou Yi glanced at it and realized it was exactly the area the hotel owner had mentioned—a beautiful view, but one he advised against visiting due to potential danger.

"A B+ rating means you might encounter something that requires firearms, or at least an A-level bloodline to handle reliably." Fingel finished chewing his energy bar, clapped his hands, and his tone became unusually serious, but his gaze drifted to his two junior classmates, "Junior sister, and Junior Brother Zhou, you two better watch out!"

"So, esteemed senior," Chen Motong crossed her arms and glanced at him sideways, "what exactly was your role in this mission?"

"Me?" Fingel immediately puffed out his chest, looking completely duty-bound. "Of course I'll be in the rear, providing you with the most solid... logistical support and intelligence support!" He emphasized the word "logistics."

Chen Motong sighed silently. Although she had heard that this seventh-grade senior was a "legendary" good-for-nothing, she only realized how far he had fallen from her expectations after getting to know him.

Chen Motong completely gave up hope on Fingel. At the same time, she began to doubt Mans's motives for bringing Fingel into the mission team. Could it really be as she suspected, based on the rumors on the school forum, that this guy was the principal's illegitimate son sent here to gain prestige?

Chen Motong found it hard to accept that the wise and powerful principal had such a useless son. She glanced sideways at Zhou Yi, who had never really stood out.

In Chen Motong's memory, although Zhou Yi was also an A-level, his performance in practical classes could only be described as "mediocre," with nothing particularly outstanding. Fortunately, this mission allowed the use of firearms, and given that the opponent had likely awakened his Word of Power, he was still somewhat usable.

Chen Motong did not inquire about Zhou Yi's Word of Power. The Word of Power of students at Kassel School was considered top secret; aside from their respective instructors, even she, as the team leader, had no right to know it unless absolutely necessary for the other party to disclose it voluntarily.

Chen Motong planned to obtain the equipment prepared in advance by the Executive Department as soon as possible.

The Academy certainly wouldn't actually let three students deal with a potential dragon threat unarmed. Long before the mission was issued, the Executive Department had secretly planted "spies" in the local area—usually long-established and trustworthy local informants—to receive and safeguard the weapons and special equipment secretly transported from the Academy.

The handover point was the corner bar that the enthusiastic townspeople had mentioned during the day.

Chen Motong assigned this relatively safe and simple handover task to Finger, and also instructed him to make sure to extract more local rumors and details about the missing tourists from the informant.

Upon hearing that he wasn't being asked to confront the enemy head-on, Fingel immediately thumped his chest, guaranteeing that he would complete the mission perfectly.

Zhou Yi remained silent and attentive throughout. When Chen Motong turned to him and asked for his advice, he simply replied, "It's up to you."

In his view, this mission was incredibly easy. Even without him and Fingel, Chen Motong could have easily handled it on her own. Therefore, he wasn't bothered at all, treating it like a vacation.

Outside the window, dusk was rapidly swallowing up the already dim light, and thick fog enveloped the cliffside town even more tightly. From downstairs at the hotel, one could faintly hear Pedro humming a tune and preparing to grill meat, while the sizzling sound of oil dripping onto the embers and the enticing aroma gradually wafted up.

On their first night, the three of them did not rush to take action.

After enjoying the roasted lamb chops prepared by Peder, they all went back to their rooms to rest and recharge.

Zhou Yi was sleeping on a makeshift bed by the fireplace. He had intended to browse the college forum on his phone to pass the time, but to his dismay, he discovered that the network signal had been completely cut off sometime earlier. Listening to the increasingly fierce howling wind outside the window, the answer was self-evident—the terrible weather and remote location made the lack of internet perfectly normal.

On the other side, Chen Motong lay on the bed fiddling with a tactical tablet. It was her first mission, her first time as a team leader, and she was full of enthusiasm.

The firelight from the fireplace cast flickering shadows on the ceiling. Just as Zhou Yi was beginning to feel sleepy and his consciousness was starting to blur, Chen Motong's voice suddenly came from the bed, breaking the silence of the room.

"Hey, Zhou Yi."

"Um?"

"Susie asked me to inquire about something," Chen Motong's voice sounded somewhat ethereal amidst the night wind and the crackling of the fireplace, "What are Chu Zihang's preferences? His birthday is coming up soon, and Susie wants to give him a gift."

"Why didn't she just ask me?" Zhou Yi asked, still a little confused. After a few seconds of pause, he realized what she meant. "Oh... too shy to ask? Never mind. Birthday? When exactly?"

"The day before the holiday." Chen Motong's tone rose slightly, tinged with obvious disbelief. "Aren't you friends? How come you didn't even know each other's birthdays?"

Zhou Yi thought to himself, "I don't even celebrate my own birthday. The last time I celebrated it felt like a lifetime ago. How could I possibly remember other people's birthdays?" However, Su Qian and Chu Zihang… Chu Zihang's original character wasn't her. As friends, he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for Su Qian; any gift he gave would be pointless.

"If it's a gift from someone you like, they'll probably be happy with anything," Zhou Yi said carefully, choosing his words. "If it's from Susie... knife oil, I guess."

Chu Zihang never parted with the village rain sword left behind by Chu Tianjiao and cherished it dearly. Whenever he had free time, he would meticulously maintain and polish it; sword oil was indeed a practical and foolproof gift.

"Tch, you figured it out too, didn't you..." Chen Motong's voice lowered, carrying a knowing tone, "Chu Zihang doesn't like Su Qian."

Even someone with no experience in relationships could understand the unspoken meaning in the Book of Changes, let alone Chen Motong, who had accumulated a whole football team of ex-boyfriends since kindergarten.

"Sigh, I really feel sorry for the girl." Chen Motong turned over, facing the ceiling, as if talking to herself, "What's so good about Chu Zihang? He has no taste, no sense of romance, and always has a cold face. I don't know what the girl sees in him."

Zhou Yi didn't respond, but listened silently to Chen Motong's "complaints" about Chu Zihang. When it comes to matters of the heart, only the person experiencing it truly knows; outsiders really can't comment.

After a moment of silence, Chen Motong suddenly spoke again, "Do you know who Chu Zihang likes?"

Zhou Yi knew. That name had left a deep impression on countless readers through his writing. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. After all, at this point in time, even Chu Zihang himself had buried that memory deep within himself.

"What does it matter if I know or not?" Zhou Yi closed his eyes, his voice calm and even. "Do you think Chu Zihang is the kind of person who would change his mind? The important thing is... Susie arrived too late."

Some positions, once occupied, offer no further opportunity for newcomers. Even a world restart cannot erase them.

In the darkness, the muffled sound of Chen Motong pounding her pillow in frustration could be heard. Feeling the same way, she had long regarded Su Qian as a close friend.