Fu Qian was standing on a somewhat deserted street.
Especially with the thunderstorm raging, there wasn't a soul around.
The woman who had spoken to him was sitting on a chair in the rain, surrounded by a cloud of mist that seemed vaguely familiar.
The rain poured down from the sky, but every drop silently melted into the mist. Not a single drop landed on her.
"You're later than I expected."
Fu Qian's calm response seemed to catch the woman by surprise.
The next moment, she slowly turned around.
Beneath the wide brim of her hat was a somewhat familiar face.
Fu Qian was certain he'd seen her less than a day ago.
The woman was clearly one of the Transcendents in that group. If he remembered correctly, her name was Teresa.
He recalled that she'd seemed quite familiar with Roland, and had even spoken to him.
Now, Teresa was dressed in black, wearing a faint, inscrutable smile. Shrouded in mist, she looked like a ghost.
"I was worried you wouldn't be able to keep up."
Fu Qian said it as if it were nothing.
"You don't look very surprised."
Fu Qian's answer clearly made Teresa pause again. Then she couldn't help letting out a soft laugh.
"Being surprised won't solve anything."
Fu Qian snorted.
"Just as I thought..."
Teresa nodded.
"There's no such thing as luck without a reason. They always said you were just lucky, but I insisted there had to be something special about you. Now I see that, at the very least, you've got much better composure than Shang Shiming."
As she spoke, she flicked a finger. The mist instantly spread several times wider, enveloping Fu Qian as well.
The scene in the stone tower was repeating itself.
Fu Qian shook his head and tried blowing