At Least in My Eyes

The old man believed Lin Jun's words without reservation, deciding that Lin Jun was a visitor from the greater world. He merely revealed a faint trace of shock.

"Which one am I?"

Lin Jun suddenly asked a question that came out of nowhere. The old man froze for a moment, then replied calmly:

"Too many to count. Too many worlds have been drawn here, and every one of them tried to save itself. Humanity is merely one among them. Though you are also one of this multitude, you are different. I know of many visitors from greater worlds, but a visitor from a world as vast as yours... Heh, I have never heard of one. I do not even dare imagine just how boundless your world must be."

Just now, Lin Jun had briefly explained his original world to the old man—a world so vast that even light could travel for nearly a hundred billion and still fail to cross it.

That convinced the old man that Lin Jun was special, and it also made him feel how fortunate humanity was as a species.

With such a vast world, the humans of that world probably never had to grieve over the decline of their world.

"We're here."

The old man stopped before a bizarre tower of every conceivable shape. The tower exuded an ancient air that transcended time, yet it looked especially discordant.

It seemed to have been forcibly piled together. The tower pierced the heavens, seemingly without end. Its exterior was covered in calligraphy and paintings, all of them extraordinarily strange, with far too many different styles kneaded together and forcibly fused.

Moreover, for some reason, the tower gave Lin Jun an incredibly noisy feeling. It was as though merely looking at those images let him hear all kinds