Naming Technique of the Night

Chapter 747: 438. The Adventures of Qing Shuli

Time travel.

It was an event countless literary works had fantasized about again and again.

Some wanted to travel to the primitive age to prove their Dao with their bodies.

Others wished to return to the past twenty years to master the wealth code of the era.

Time travel, in fact, represented the start of a new life, where everyone tired of their current life, or repeatedly frustrated, wanted to use it to change their fate.

Now, time travel had become reality. Yet, while some lived better after traveling, others had a worse existence.

For instance, the mood of those rich second generations who went to prison number 10 to find Liu Dezhu was very complex.

And Qing Shuli’s feelings were even more so.

He sat in his room, looking at his original arm, now replaced by a mechanical limb.

“My arm’s gone,” Qing Shuli murmured. He surveyed his surroundings, the bedroom over forty square meters filled with a sense of technology: “It seems I didn’t travel into the body of a poor man?”

According to the housing standards of the Outer World, a bedroom of over forty square meters was definitely considered large.

Moreover, this place was the Inner World.

Qing Shuli had updated himself on the Internet about information concerning the Inner World. He knew how every inch of land here was worth its weight in gold, where many people of three generations lived together in a 15-square-meter room, and at night, six or seven people would share the same big bed.

It seemed his start wasn’t too bad.

Then, should he call Luo Wanya?

Right before he was about to travel, the Daylight collective returned to Los Angeles City, and Luo Wanya had someone send him a note with a phone number of a Golden Family Member from the Parents’ Meeting.

The security personnel from Daylight instructed him to call as soon as he entered the Inner World to ensure his safety.

At the time, Qing Shuli was somewhat flattered. After all, he had nearly given up, and yet Luo Wanya still remembered him.

It’s important to note, he didn’t have that much money to pay to Daylight.

However, at this moment, Qing Shuli suddenly hesitated. If he lived a prosperous life in the Inner World, did he still need to get involved with Luo Wanya and be at someone’s beck and call?

And what if Luo Wanya demanded money from him?

Qing Shuli sat in his room, deep in thought for a long time, before finally making the call.

He needed to live and return, otherwise his wife and children would be left helpless.

For safety’s sake.

“Hello, I’m Qing Shuli,” he said politely.

“I know, you were referred to by the Black Family Member,” the voice on the phone said. “I’m sharing my location with your phone now. Then I’ll send someone to pick you up and take you to get familiar with City 18.”

Black Family Member? Was that Luo Wanya?

What kind of mess is this…

On Qing Shuli’s phone popped up a request to join location sharing, which, after thinking it over, he decided to accept.

The moment he did, he felt a pang of regret, but it was too late for second thoughts.

After seeing his shared location, the voice on the phone let out a surprised “Huh, you’re quite close.”

Just then, knocking sounds came from the door: “Deacon Qing, the Bishop summons you.”

There was another surprised “Huh” from the phone.

Qing Shuli froze for a moment, looking down to see that the location share was still active, but the call had been disconnected.

A premonition of doom began to rise within him; it turned out he wasn’t in his own home but inside an organization.

This wasn’t good.

He had just started and hadn’t had the chance to familiarize himself with the environment when he was going to face a stranger, and moreover, his superior.

Wait, Deacon, Bishop…

Could it be that he was a member of the Mechanicus? That organization was rumored to be quite brutal.

If he gave himself away, he might die, right?

Qing Shuli grew nervous. He was glad he had made that phone call… but now he was uncertain if the other party would still come to pick him up.

He called the number again, but it indicated the line was busy.

The voice outside urged: “Deacon Qing? Are you asleep? Please get up quickly, or the Bishop will be angry.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” Qing Shuli braced himself as he got up.

Waiting outside was a respectful young man, who turned to lead the way upon Qing Shuli opening the door.

The two rounded the lengthy corridor, decorated with various mechanical parts, and at the end of it, a complete mechanical limb hung on the wall as if it were Jesus crucified.

Qing Shuli dared not look too closely, fearful of revealing his curious gaze.

After taking several turns, they arrived in front of a massive door. The young man knocked: “Bishop, Deacon Qing is here.”

“Come in.”

Qing Shuli’s pupils contracted at the sound that was unlike any human’s. It was deep with a metallic resonance, reminiscent of King Kong from the movies.

The door opened, and he was startled to see a ‘human’ whose entire body had been transformed into machinery, seated on a high chair.

The face of the Red-robed Bishop was half human, half machine.

Draped in a thick red cloak, the Bishop’s open chest revealed a brightly shining blue triangle, like the legendary energy core.

Around the energy core, no longer human skin but mechanical parts, revolved and meshed, circling the blue core continuously.

A red carpet stretched from the entrance to the front of the chair, like a bloody path to a throne.

Beneath that throne were several females prostrated, kneeling on the ground with cables plugged into the back of their necks, leading to the Bishop’s abdomen.