Ten years.
For this fast-moving world, ten years is enough for high-rise buildings to rise from the ground, enough to turn the vast sea into mulberry fields.
But for Long Island Estate, these ten years seemed to be completely frozen in that heavy rainy dawn.
The afternoon sunlight shines quietly on the wooden floor of the living room through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.
There is fine dust floating in the air.
The kitchen island was covered with a white dust-proof cloth, and the large dining table that used to be crowded with people every night was now empty, and the aroma of food could no longer be smelled.
The entire Manor building is almost unoccupied now.
Only Black Noir is left here.
Black Noir, who was wearing black casual clothes, was holding a piece of flannel and carefully wiping the silver-white Cryogenic Chamber in the center of the living room over and over again.
This Cryogenic Chamber is the only thing among the Manor that is spotless and runs day and night.
Under the transparent bulletproof glass hatch, air-conditioning circulates.
Lynn was lying quietly inside, his appearance unchanged from ten years ago.
It was as if he had fallen asleep for a long nap. At any moment, he would push open the hatch cover, stand up, put on his apron, and complain that Black Noir hadn't washed the dishes cleanly.
Long Island Estate is the warmest haven in the hearts of these monsters, but it is also the sad place that they dare not touch now.
They have their own lives and their own battlefields.
Only in the dead of night, or when they are exhausted by this cruel world outside and miss Lynn so much that they almost go crazy, will they quietly come back here and sit next to Lynn for a while through a layer of cold glass.
South America, Brazil, a super open-air music festival that can accommodate 50,000 people.
"Put your hands up! Let me see your hands!"
The deafening sound seemed to overturn the entire stadium.
Fifty thousand ardent fans waved light sticks and jumped and screamed like waves in the audience.
In the center of the stage, sixteen-year-old Reggie was wearing a loose trendy hoodie, with a silver necklace hanging around his neck and holding a microphone tightly in his hand.
His eyes swept over the fans in the audience. It should be an exciting moment, but there seemed to be a lingering gloom in his eyes.
At this time, he had clearly realized his childhood dream, but he couldn't be happy at all.
Maybe his dream has changed long ago.
No one here knows that he is Supe, and no one knows that he was the "A-Train" in Vought Vanguard Camp.
In the eyes of fans, he is North America a super genius who emerged in the rap world and the most undisputed Rap Emperor of the new generation in the world.
His speaking speed, which is so fast that even his lung capacity cannot be explained, and his explosive singing skills have allowed him to defeat all his peers in this track.
Reggie's eyes drifted into the distance and he took a deep breath.
Tokyo, Akihabara, underground video game city.
The dazzling neon signs flash with colorful lights, turning this place into a cyberpunk world.
In the core area of the video game city, in front of an extreme barrage shooter Arcade Machine, there are three floors inside and three floors outside surrounded by hard-core high-level players from all over the world.
No one dared to gasp loudly and stared at the deadly barrage that was so densely packed on the screen that there was not even a single gap to be found.
Sixteen-year-old Tommy was wearing a black jacket and a pair of sound-isolating headphones on his head.
There was no expression on his face, and he was chewing a piece of strawberry-flavored bubble gum in his mouth.
And his hands turned into a bunch of afterimages on the Arcade Machine operating table.
Snap.
As the last boss exploded on the screen into brilliant pixel fireworks, a big "New World Record" popped up in the center of the screen.
"Oh my god! He broke the record set ten years ago!"
"Does this guy still have human hand speed?!"
The surrounding crowd burst into disbelieving exclamations and applause.
Tommy blew a pink bubble and it burst with a "pop" sound.
He didn't even look at the points on the screen that were enough to drive countless professional players crazy. He just grabbed a can of Coke beside the console, pulled Griphook open with one hand, raised his head and took a sip.
In the video game world, he is a mysterious internet-addicted boy and the holder of multiple world records for unsolvable games.
No one knows his origins, they only know that as long as he is in the game hall, all the highest score lists will be slaughtered.
Tommy put one hand in his pocket, pushed through the enthusiastic crowd, and walked out of the video game city.
He raised his head and glanced at the cold crescent moon over Tokyo with deep eyes.
"It's boring."
He threw the Coke can into a trash can ten meters away.
"... The record ten years ago was broken by Lynn with me."
Australia, Great Barrier Reef Marine Conservation Base.
The dazzling sunshine shines on the blue sea, and the sea breeze carries a salty smell.
Fifteen-year-old Kevin wore a blue volunteer vest with the "World Animal Protection" logo printed on it, rolled up his trouser legs, and stood in the waist-deep sea water.
His facial features opened up, and he lost the timidity he had when he was a child, and turned into a handsome young man who is honest and handsome with sunshine.
At this moment, he and several sweaty adult volunteers were trying to push a stranded juvenile humpback whale back to the Deep.
"Kevin, watch out for its tail! It will crush your ribs!"
The person in charge on the shore shouted nervously.
"It's okay, Captain, it's just a little scared."
Kevin showed a sunny smile, and at an angle where no one noticed, he gently placed his hand on the rough skin of the humpback whale.
A strange spiritual wave passed along the sea water.
The humpback whale, which was originally frantic and struggling because of the stranding, miraculously calmed down the moment it came into contact with the palm of Kevin.
It looked at Kevin with its huge eyes and let out a gentle whale call.
In the shocked eyes of other volunteers, this behemoth weighing several tons actively cooperated with Kevin's pushing and pulling force, and swam back to the deep water along with the rising tide. Finally, it slapped its tail on the sea surface and reluctantly dived into the deep blue.
"You are a miracle, Kevin! The animals seem to understand you!"
A volunteer next to him looked at him with stars in his eyes.
"I just grew up by the sea and understand them better."
Kevin scratched his head and smiled a little shyly.
France, Paris.
A private art gallery by the Seine River.
Soothing cello music echoed in the spacious exhibition hall, and under the huge crystal chandelier, people were dressed in fragrant clothes.
Europe's most famous art critics, collectors and the cameras of major fashion media gathered together.
This personal exhibition titled "Dawn" belongs to the most popular talented girl painter in the art world today, Annie.
Fifteen-year-old Annie was wearing a light yellow haute couture evening dress, with her long blond hair tied behind her head.
Her facial features are bright and dazzling, her temperament is outstanding, and her decent manners make her appear to be surrounded by a group of Europe elite people with ease.
And beside her, there was an extremely eye-catching behemoth following her.
It was a giant Golden Retriever that was as fat and fat as a tank.
It has a special oversized black bow tie tied around its neck, its hair is shiny and smooth, and its belly is almost hanging on the ground.
At this moment, no one noticed that the huge dog head was lowering his voice and complaining crazily:
"Annie, I must say, France people's understanding of food is a disaster! The waiter who was serving the plate just now gave me a cookie the size of a fingernail, with just a tiny smear on it. Caviar! Is this for dogs? It's not even enough to fill the teeth! I miss big chunks of barbecue, I want to eat beef brisket stewed with tomatoes! Just like the one made by Lynn, the pot is full of meat, not this fancy snack!"
Annie maintained an impeccable and elegant smile, waved gently to the camera, and at the same time stepped on Buddy's fat claws quietly with his high-heeled feet.
"Shut up, Buddy, you are so fat now that you can hardly climb the steps of the gallery. If you eat one more bite, I will feed you a ton of chocolate in one go, so that you can eat enough."
Annie warned in a very low voice from between his teeth.
"Death! Murdering animals!"
Buddy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and lay on the carpet aggrievedly. From a distance, it looked like a large puddle of melted golden butter. Well, it was actually a puddle of reply.
At this time, a famous art critic came over with champagne and stopped in front of the huge painting that was not for sale in the center of the exhibition hall.
There is no concrete portrait in the painting, only a kitchen shrouded in warm Dawn.
And deep in that infectious halo, there was a vague outline of a tall figure wearing an apron.
"Miss Annie, the use of color in this painting is miraculous. The warmth that shines through the canvas makes you want to cry."
The critic looked at Annie with admiration, "Can you tell me the source of inspiration for this painting? Is this gentleman in the kitchen your father?"
Annie The smile at the corner of his mouth faltered slightly.
She turned her head and stared at the familiar figure in the painting with her golden eyes.
The bright color in her eyes gradually faded, turning into a trace of bottomless longing.
"No, he is not my father."
Annie murmured softly, as if he was answering a critic or talking to himself.
"He is the gentlest god in the world."