This Is Real

In a silent, deserted alley in Jinguan City, a man in a white embroidered shirt appeared out of thin air, tumbled several times on the ground, and dropped a black pistol.

"Hiss~"

An Yang quickly steadied himself, flipped over, and hurriedly picked up the pistol from the ground. He glanced around, stowed it into his Portable Space, and brushed the dust off his shirt.

He took out his phone and frowned.

"Where is this? Wasn't I at home?"

"According to the location data, this is still Jinguan City, not far from the selected user's residence."

An Yang froze, then said in confusion, "Wasn't I at home before the jump? How did I end up here?"

The phone in his hand was silent for a long moment before a line of text flickered on the screen.

"...The Earth rotates."

The expression on An Yang's face stiffened.

"That explanation... Why didn't you just throw me into Africa!"

"My calculation system hasn't been used for a long time. A small error is normal. It has now been repaired."

"Alright, just don't actually drop me in Africa. Anyway, good thing no one was here—if that pistol had fallen out, I'd be heading to the police station."

The phone's screen went dark.

An Yang was at a loss with this phone that possessed heaven-defying abilities. He rubbed his sore waist and walked out of the dark alley.

A ray of sunlight fell on his face. Though only a month had passed, it felt like a lifetime ago. What he had experienced in the past month truly seemed like a dream.

This mission had kept him in the world of Léon: The Professional for over a month. Perhaps because it was a prelude, his gains were substantial. Two guns with accessories and several rounds of ammunition lay in his Portable Space, along with a few abilities that others could only dream of.

"Hmm, about seventy thousand US dollars left. I wonder if I can use it in the real world. At the current exchange rate, six or seven times forty-two... Hey, did I suddenly become really rich?"

"Is this really not a dream?"

An Yang walked down the street, his mind in a daze. Even now, he couldn't be sure this was real, let alone confirm that he had just pulled the trigger twice from such a distance and killed a person.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the crowd ahead, accompanied by a woman's shout.

"Stop, thief! Stop, thief! He stole my bag!"

"In broad daylight, the two of you dare to snatch my bag? Stop right there!"

Two young men quickly pushed through the crowd, charging toward An Yang. The one in front held a fashionable LV handbag, occasionally glancing back.

Perhaps because An Yang blocked their path, the man with the bag unhesitatingly reached out to shove him aside and kept running forward.

An Yang was tall, about 1.8 meters, and not thin either. But people nowadays tended to play it safe and avoid trouble. Besides, the two thieves were also big and burly, so the thief never expected An Yang to make a move against them.

But An Yang was already agitated and had just received the transmission of Mastery of Combat (Beginner). If the thief hadn't provoked him, he might have just let him run past. But the thief had to be reckless enough to shove him.

"Bang!"

Before the crowd could see what happened, the thief was already on the ground, a huge lump swelling on his forehead, and the pink limited-edition LV bag had flown out of his hand.

As it turned out, even a beginner-level Mastery of Combat was still mastery—at least professional-level, far beyond the skill of an ordinary thug.

Mastery of Combat told him that before reaching the master level, he should never let his opponent have a chance to fight back. He had to seize the advantage and press the attack, or he might end up losing!

So, just as the thug struggled to get up, An Yang didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and stomped on his head. The move was simple, yet brutally effective.

"Thud."

A dull sound rang out. The onlookers' eyes twitched, and they instinctively swallowed. Seeing the blood smeared between the thief's head and the ceramic tile pavement, they couldn't help but feel a chill run down their spines.

An Yang turned to look at the other young man, who instinctively took a step back. He pulled a dagger from behind his waist, pointed it at An Yang, and put on a fierce expression.

"What do you think you're doing? This has nothing to do with you. We're all in the same line of work. I'm warning you—no, I'm advising you—leave some leeway for everyone."

An Yang stood in a daze. At this moment, he felt most keenly that everything the time-space jump phone had brought him was real—including the power. Though it gave him a sense of unreality, it was also intoxicating.

A tall, slender woman rushed over, picked up the bag from the ground, and looked up at him with a delighted expression. "Thank you so much. I'm Song Hanshan. I really owe you one this time."

An Yang glanced at her. She was fashionably dressed, with light makeup, and was undeniably beautiful. She carried an air of confidence, and judging by the LV bag in her hand, she likely came from a well-off family.

But he didn't have time to care about that. How could he? He had just received an incredible stroke of luck, and his mind was in turmoil.

The thug beside him glared at him, gritted his teeth, and charged forward, thrusting the dagger viciously. At least he had some restraint—he aimed for the stomach, since no one could afford a murder.

"Ah!"

The beautiful woman screamed. Having grown up pampered, she had never seen such a scene.

"Hmph, you're asking for it!"

An Yang was quick-eyed and quick-handed. He wasn't yet at the level of catching a blade barehanded. Instead, he sidestepped to dodge the thrust, used the momentum to shove the thug away, and when the distance was right, delivered a vicious kick to the thug's groin.

"Thud."

"Sss!!! Ah!!!"

Seeing the thug's twisted features, the crowd seemed to hear the sound of eggs shattering. A chill ran through their lower bodies.

The young man collapsed to his knees, clutching his groin, completely overwhelmed by the intense pain. He didn't even have the mind to care about the dagger that had fallen from his hand.

The beautiful woman was stunned. It took her a long moment to react before she quickly pulled out her phone and made a call.

"Sir, wait a moment. Let me make a call."

"Hello, Uncle Lin? I'm on Wutong Road right now. I've run into a bit of trouble. Bring some people over quickly, please. Yes, it's urgent."

The beautiful woman put down her phone, looked at the tall, straight-backed An Yang, her eyes practically gleaming. She reached out a hand as she spoke.

"Alright, I'll handle the rest from here. Thank you so much. Let me reintroduce myself—my name is Song Hanshan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

An Yang glanced at her and had to admit—this woman was stunning. With her light makeup, she looked almost ethereal, her figure perfectly proportioned. Her refined, stylish outfit only amplified her assets, making her strikingly attractive.

"Hello, I'm An Yang..."

He was just about to continue when he suddenly felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled his outstretched hand back, took out his phone, glanced at it, took a deep breath, and then slipped it back into his pocket without a change in expression.

Song Hanshan felt a bit awkward and withdrew her hand as well.

But she didn't mind. Seeing An Yang put his phone away, she spoke again. "An Yang, right? Thank you for helping me earlier. That was really cool—you took down those two thieves in no time. Have you trained in martial arts?"

An Yang frowned and didn't answer. After checking his phone, he was already eager to leave. "You can handle the rest. I won't get involved. I'm off."

Song Hanshan was taken aback, then quickly said, "Please wait—I haven't even thanked you properly yet."

An Yang shook his head and turned to leave. "No need. I have something to do."

Song Hanshan hesitated, then hurried after him. "Mr. An Yang, at least leave me a way to contact you. I'd really like to thank you properly. Hey, Mr. An Yang..."

An Yang remained silent, quickening his pace. Soon, he disappeared around a corner.

Song Hanshan stood frozen in place, looking down at herself, wondering where her usual charm had gone. It took her a long moment to snap out of it, a sparkle flickering in her eyes.

"What a cool guy."

Not long after, a black business van screeched to a halt. Almost immediately, several police cars arrived at the scene.

"How long has it been since I left that day?"

This time, the phone screen only displayed a line of text—no voice came through.

"According to the Noether Spacetime Formula, when using any world as a base to enter the Origin World, the time ratio between the Origin World and the base world is 10:1. The chosen one spent 33 days in the Origin World, which corresponds to approximately three days and seven hours in the real world."

An Yang nodded and took a deep breath. "Has anyone called me these past few days?"

The phone screen displayed a photo of a pretty girl, along with a line of data and a prominent number.

"Yes. A girl named Ji Weiwei called you 28 times."

An Yang's expression shifted. Three days had passed—wasn't she going to call the police by now?

"Damn. Call her back."

The call connected quickly, and a girl's voice came through, crisp and clear.

"Hello?"

"Ahem... hey, it's me, An Yang."

"An Yang?! Where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you for three days. Your phone's been dead."

"Uh... I dropped my phone when I quit my job. I just bought a new one."

"Bullshit. Then why wasn't you at your place when I went? You weren't home, don't think I don't know about the key you hide on the doorframe. I slept at your place the day before yesterday. If you didn't come back soon, I was about to call the cops."

An Yang froze, stunned. "How did you know I keep the key on the doorframe?"

The voice on the other end softened, almost like a sigh. "Don't change the subject. Spill it—why did you quit? And why did you break your phone? Did something happen? Where have you been these past few days? Wait, don't tell me you went to see a prostitute!"

An Yang was sweating, but he had no choice but to tough it out and change the subject. "You sure are nosy. Anyway, are you still at my place now?"

"No. My mom called me home—said my dad's seriously ill. I'm on the bus now. Oh, we're going into a tunnel. I'll call you later."

"Is your uncle okay? Hello?"

An Yang slowly lowered his phone and finally let out a breath of relief.

Ji Weiwei was an old friend of his. How old? He couldn't quite remember—they'd probably been playing together since they were very young. Their bond was undeniable.

Both of Ji Weiwei's parents and his own lived in Yancheng City, all of them teachers in the same teacher's residential complex. The two had grown up together in Yancheng, gone to the same school from kindergarten through university, and had even been in the same class all the way through high school. It wasn't until college, when they ended up in different departments, that they finally separated. Calling them childhood sweethearts wouldn't be an exaggeration. In college, he often ate out with Ji Weiwei, and his roommates never let him hear the end of it.