The brief daze faded, and the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet returned.
Luo Chuan shook his head, casting aside that faint sense of unreality. Bright sunlight streamed through the window into the room, countless motes of dust dancing within it, and at this moment, the light seemed to take on a tangible shape.
Looking at the familiar surroundings, he felt inexplicably sentimental.
It seemed he had not been back for quite some time.
He opened the window and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. Its crisp freshness seeped into his heart and lungs.
Without the scent of Magic Dust, it felt as though the entire world had become much brighter.
He casually pulled over a chair and sat at the desk by the window. Picking up a notebook, he began recording the clues he currently possessed.
The soft scratching of his pen echoed through the room.
Magic Phones were certainly convenient, but sometimes, using the most traditional form of writing was quite nice as well.
A moment later, Luo Chuan looked at the information in the notebook and sighed helplessly.
World Tree, Little Black Ball, sea demons, corruption, Annihilation Cultists, Falas Empire...
The tangled, chaotic information was all spread across a single sheet of paper, yet there was not one clear clue tying it together. Just looking at it was enough to make his head hurt.
Luo Chuan rubbed his brow.
To be honest, he had no idea what a certain author was thinking.
Under normal circumstances, the plot of this book should have been split into two separate books: one of the fantasy genre, and the other of the magical fantasy genre.
Yet who knew whether that certain author had simply lost his mind or did not want to follow the beaten path, but