"Mrs. Welles! Mrs. Welles, are you home? It's Ciri! Open up!"
After leading the man through the corridors with countless twists and turns, the girl stepped over a few drunks and junkies passed out in the hallway, reached a door, and furiously pressed the bell while announcing her name into the intercom.
But clearly, no one was home. Su Ming could already tell. There was the smell of stew behind the door, but no trace of living breath.
No, it should not have been called stew. It was synthetic meat stew—artificial soybean protein chunks, perhaps?
"Looks like V doesn't live here anymore. Jack and his mother aren't home either." Su Ming took Ciri's hand to keep her from breaking the intercom. Everything here looked rather cheaply made. "You could have called them before coming here."
"I don't have their numbers." Ciri shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with that. "You know, that kind of communication didn't exist in my original world. And if I'd been drinking, I'd be even less likely to remember to ask people for their numbers."
"Forget it. I'd originally wanted to play around with role-playing as an ordinary person and not use Concept Power, but I'll handle it now." Su Ming rolled his eyes speechlessly. He knew Ciri's problem was not really that.
Ciri was a time-space traveler, and she had often fled from the Wild Hunt in the past, constantly hiding and moving from place to place. That meant she had to switch worlds frequently.
That inevitably meant leaving friends without saying goodbye, which hurt her deeply. So she chose not to form too many connections with people. That way, she would have fewer attachments, and leaving would hurt less.
As for why she did not tell the truth, she had probably remembered that the Wild