The vertigo of teleportation hit like a sledgehammer to the back of the head.
Blue light faded, replaced by a familiar ceiling and a dim overhead light.
"Urgh..."
I leaned over the bed and dry-heaved. My stomach churned. The inter-dimensional nausea combined with the aftereffects of the lightning strike left me trembling.
"We're back..."
I gasped for air.
The air no longer smelled of choking motor oil, blood, and burnt flesh. It smelled of mold, cooking fumes from downstairs, and cheap air freshener.
This was my "kennel" in Skyhaven City, rented for three years.
Ten square meters. Water damage spreading like a map on the wall. Half-eaten instant noodles from before I left sat on the table, soup dried, covered in dust.
"Woof."
A short, disgusted bark pulled me back to reality.
Shadow stood in the center of the room. His golden fur was filthy, but his arrogance was untouched. He looked around, pawed the creaky single bed, eyes full of judgment.
"This is your territory in this world?" Shadow snorted. "Smaller than the shelter's toilet. Poor ventilation. Smells like the sour sweat of a weakling."
"Be glad you have a bed."
I struggled up. Every bone protested. especially my conductive right hand, which was still numb, pins and needles dancing under the skin.
I walked to the mirror. Stripped off the shredded clothes stained with black blood and soot.
A stranger looked back at me.
Body still thin, but muscle definition was sharp, explosive. The eyes, once defeated, were now sharp as knives, hiding a coldness deep within.
The most shocking part was my right arm and chest.
Starting from my right palm, purple-red branching patterns—Lichtenberg figures—crept up like vines, over my arm, reaching my heart.
They were slightly raised. In the dim bathroom light, they occasionally flashed with a faint blue glow.
Zzz-zap...
I clenched my fist. An electric arc jumped from my fingertip.
"The price. And the power."
I touched the scars. No fear. Just the thrill of controlling my destiny.
Quick shower. Washed off the blood and smoke. Put on a cheap suit I bought for interviews years ago. Tight, cuffs pilling, but my most presentable outfit.
"Shadow, ready?"
I walked out, carrying the heavy backpack.
Inside was the "future" we bought with our lives.
To avoid attention, I wrapped the gold bars in layers of old clothes at the bottom, covered with books and junk.
"Where to?" Shadow was chewing my table leg, apparently dissatisfied with the taste of wood in this world.
"To turn these rocks into meat. Into a house. Into our backbone in this world."
I patted the bag. "Let's go. To Jin Shi Tang."
Afternoon. Skyhaven City.
Sunlight was harsh.
I stood by the road, carrying millions in gold, holding a mutant dog that could solo zombies.
It should have been a scene of a King's Return.
Reality slapped me in the face.
"Taxi!"
I waved down an empty cab.
The car slowed. Driver rolled down the window. He looked at my ill-fitting cheap suit—no reaction, plenty of salesmen looked like this.
But when his eyes landed on Shadow, his face changed.
Shadow wore no collar, no muzzle. Just sitting there, his size and the pressure in his eyes made normal people instinctively afraid.
"Sir, city center?" I smiled apologetically.
"No." Driver shook his head like a rattle. "No pets. Especially big dogs. What if it bites? And the shedding? Can't even cover the car wash fee."
"I can pay extra..."
"No means no! Get out!"
He floored it, spraying exhaust in my face.
"...Insolent."
Shadow narrowed his eyes. Murderous intent flashed in his golden pupils. Low growl in his throat. "Did that human refuse this Lord? Want me to chase him and bite his tires off?"
"Calm down." I soothed the beast. "Civilized society. Can't bite tires. Low profile, remember?"
For the next ten minutes, I learned the pain of "Rich but can't spend it."
Four cabs rejected me.
"No dogs!" "Looks too mean, I'm scared!" "Allergic!" "Trunk smells too bad!"
I looked at the heavy gold in my bag. Looked at the fleeing taxis. A ridiculous sense of powerlessness rose.
I have millions. I just saved the world (well, Sector C). I can shoot lightning from my hands.
But I can't catch a cab.
"This is your 'Heaven'?" Shadow mocked. "More rules than the shelter. Over there, anyone refuses me, I twist their head off."
"No cars over there," I sighed.
Just as Shadow's patience ran out and he suggested "commandeering" one, a beat-up green Jetta taxi slowed down.
Window rolled down. An uncle chewing betel nut, wearing sunglasses.
"Where to, kid?" He spat out betel juice.
"City center. Jin Shi Tang." I pointed at Shadow. "With a dog. Okay?"
The uncle pushed his glasses down. Looked at Shadow. Looked at me. Grinned, showing teeth stained black.
"Get in. As long as it doesn't shit in the car. This car hauls anything but ghosts."
Relieved, I shoved the disgusted Shadow into the back seat.
Car started. AC was weak. Radio blasting loud disco.
"Brother, Jin Shi Tang? That's the gold market." The uncle eyed me in the mirror. "Dressed like that... going to... see the world?"
He clearly thought I looked like a security applicant, not a customer.
I hugged the backpack tighter.
"No." I smiled harmlessly. "Family heirlooms. Getting an appraisal."
"Oh. Antiques." Uncle nodded. Stopped asking.
Shadow lay on my lap, nose twitching. Telepathy: "This human talks too much. Can you make him shut up? Or turn off that noise box?"
"Bear with it. Once we get there, we buy our own car."
Thirty minutes later.
Skyhaven City. Jin Shi Tang Precious Metal Exchange.
A standalone building in the prime district. Luxurious decoration.
I paid the fare (plus a twenty tip). Got out with Shadow.
Security stopped me at the door. Eyed Shadow with disgust.
"Sir, dress code. No pets."
I didn't release my killing aura. Instead, I put on a shy, anxious smile.
"Brother, help me out." I slipped a pack of good cigarettes (just bought) into his hand. "Selling stuff. Family emergency. Raised this dog for years, can't leave him outside. I promise I'll watch him."
Security felt the pack. Looked at my "honest peasant" face. Softened.
"Fine. Go in. Watch the dog. Don't scare the guests."
"Thanks, thanks."
I walked in, head down.
AC was cold. Appraisers in uniforms were serving jewelry-laden ladies at the counters.
I avoided the crowd. Found a quiet corner. Waved at a young clerk organizing files.
"Hello." Low voice.
Clerk looked up. Saw my outfit. Polite but cold. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I want to sell some gold." I put the bag on the counter. Unzipped a sliver. Revealed a corner of gold brick. "Quantity is... large. Can we... go somewhere quiet?"
Clerk froze. Saw the gold through the gap. Eyes went wide.
Color and thickness meant this wasn't jewelry.
"P-Please wait." Attitude flip. "I'll get the manager."
Two minutes later.
I was in a private VIP room.
Manager Zhao De-Zhu. Middle-aged, gold-rimmed glasses.
"Your surname, sir?" Zhao poured me water, eyes glued to my bag.
"Bai."
I didn't drink. Just opened the bag. Took out the wrapped bricks one by one. Placed them gently on the table.
One. Two. Three...
Five standard bricks. Plus a pile of jewelry.
Manager Zhao's breathing quickened. Put on gloves. Picked up a brick.
"999 Gold... this quality, it's from an old vault."
He frowned. Rubbed a spot on the brick. A streak of dried, dark red stain.
He looked up, scrutinizing me through his lenses. "Mr. Bai, this... looks a bit dirty."
Loaded question.
My heart tightened. Face remained calm.
"Dug it up from the old family house." I sighed. Helpless smile. "Elders buried it to hide from the war. Probably rust or red mud. You know, chaotic times..."
I didn't say it was blood. Didn't act tough. I played the role of a fallen scion selling ancestors' legacy for quick cash.
Best cover story. Lowers defenses.
Zhao stared at me for a few seconds.
He saw a young man in a cheap suit, tired eyes. No gangster vibe. Just life's hardship.
"Understood."
Zhao smiled. Guard down. Merchant's shrewdness up. "Ancestral means no certificates or receipts?"
"Lost in the turmoil," I said. "So I don't ask for market price. Just a fair price for real gold. I need cash urgent."
"Since Mr. Bai is straightforward, I won't beat around the bush."
Zhao picked up a calculator. "Market is 480. But 'unearthed' goods carry risk. Cleaning, recasting fees... 400 per gram. Okay?"
Lowballing. Hard.
But I relaxed. Lowballing means he dares to buy.
"400..." I pretended to hesitate. Looked at Shadow. Looked at the gold. Gritted teeth. "Fine! 400! Transfer now?"
"Of course. Instant."
Zhao was overjoyed. High-quality gold. Quick flip means hundreds of thousands in profit. Free meat.
Weighing. Calculating.
"Total 7 kilograms. Plus jewelry... Total 2.8 million."
Zhao tapped his tablet. "Account number?"
I gave it.
Ding.
Phone vibrated.
[Your savings account ending in 5278 received RMB 2,800,000.00 at 15:20.]
I stared at the number. Heart racing. Face calm.
"Received." I stood up, shouldering the empty bag. "Thanks, Manager Zhao."
"My pleasure." Zhao gave me a card, walking me to the door. "Any more 'old items', come to me."
"Sure."
Walking out the door, I exhaled a long breath.
Back soaked with sweat.
Not fear. Tension. Fencing goods in civilized society burned more brain cells than killing zombies.
"Shadow."
I touched the phone in my pocket. 2.8 million.
"We have money," I whispered, corners of my mouth rising uncontrollably. "Clean money."
"Hmph. That four-eyes has a black heart," Shadow grumbled. "That metal was worth more."
"Doesn't matter." I looked at the bustling street. Eyes shining. "This is just the first pot of gold. We are safe. We have capital."
"Let's go spend it!"
"I want meat!"
"This time, no one stops us from eating!"