It was a quiet night.
It was also a quiet room.
There was a fragrance in the air that was not particularly pungent, but definitely strange—if it could even be called a fragrance.
Beside the bed, the muddled, rhythmic breathing of one, two, three living creatures could be heard. From the sounds, it was possible to tell that one of them was breathing somewhat heavily, like a hundred rats had crawled into a bellows, forcing it to expend every ounce of strength just to complete each cycle of inhalation and exhalation.
The room seemed quite large. In the pitch-black surroundings, it could only be estimated to cover some four or five hundred square meters, with a height of roughly five or six meters.
Strings of pitch-black objects hung from the rafters. Was this dried cured meat?
Zhang Yang made a quick judgment. Although he had previously planted many alternate accounts among the Xing Clan, this was his first time descending with his main consciousness.
Moreover, his several failed descents earlier were enough to prove that those alternate accounts had either died or suffered some kind of unforeseeable misfortune.
Even so, the situation was not too bad.
When he sank his mind, this alternate body of Zhang Yang's seemed to enter a deep sleep, while Zhang Yang's main consciousness quickly began reviewing all kinds of information.
"Wait? This is a child?"
Zhang Yang was slightly taken aback. The information he drew from this body was extremely sparse and brief. Judging by its intelligence, this was merely a child equivalent to seven or eight years old.
"Brick No. 7, activate."
Within Zhang Yang's main consciousness, a faint energy fluctuation leaped up before rapidly forming a Brick Village Building Order only as large as a grain of rice. This was the personal terminal