Early in the morning, amid Sno's punctual prayers, Klein climbed out of bed rubbing his head. After a very brief moment of confusion, he suddenly jolted awake.
Logically speaking, once Beyonders reached the Angel level, they no longer needed much sleep to regulate their physical condition. Yet Klein had enjoyed a long-overdue night's sleep last night.
Annoyed at his own carelessness, he checked his condition. Only after finding nothing wrong did he finally relax.
His gaze swept roughly across the room and found everything neat and orderly. The fried chicken buckets, cola bottles, and assorted trash that he remembered having been tossed everywhere had vanished without a trace. This gave him a powerful sense of unreality, and he even began to suspect that last night's transmigrator gathering had merely been an illusory dream.
However, once his eyes reached the table, that thought vanished. There sat a bowl of white porridge whose time had been frozen by some Beyonder power, still steaming hot, along with matching buns and pickled vegetables.
"This isn't a dream!" Klein walked to the table, recalling the Potion Formula Roselle had told him yesterday and the honorific name he now possessed. The corners of his mouth rose involuntarily.
It was not because he had gotten the formula for free, but because he had suddenly realized that perhaps he was not alone after all.
Klein first ascended above the Gray Fog and responded to Sno's prayer. Then he sat at the table, spirituality surging from his fingertips as he opened the Wall of Spirituality. The fragrance of food slowly spread with the steam. Eating a Chinese breakfast he had not had in a long time, Klein's smile grew increasingly sincere.
"This feeling is pretty nice."
"Is it really okay to eat something so greasy this early in