Inside Yuzhou's cramped rental room, a twisted ripple in space suddenly appeared—and promptly spat him out.
This time, unlike before, he didn't land with a "graceful swan dive." Instead, he crashed right onto his own bed.
"Guess you've got a shred of conscience," Yuzhou muttered, staring at the fading distortion.
He sat up and rubbed his head. I've been in another world for two whole days… If I'm right, that means two days should've passed here, too. Better check my phone first.
Fishing his charging phone from the nightstand, he braced for missed calls and frantic messages. After all, disappearing for two days as a student would definitely make people worry.
But when he unlocked the screen, he froze.
The date still read Saturday. Before he left, it was 8 a.m. Now it was only 9 a.m.
"…So, I spent two days over there, and only one hour passed here?" Yuzhou blinked, then let out a relieved sigh. "That actually works in my favour."
The red-dress girl had told him that his world wasn't the only one. Clearly, this wouldn't be his last trip. But if every crossing only ate up an hour here, that meant far fewer real-world problems—no police reports, no search parties, no teachers blowing up his phone.
Still… the timing was unpredictable. The girl hadn't explained how or when these rifts appeared. They just yanked him away at random.
What if I'm walking down the street and suddenly vanish? People see that, and I'm done for. Cops, scientists, shady organisations—everyone and their grandma will show up at this dump of a rental.
Resolved to be ready, Yuzhou set out to prepare for the next crossing.
First priority: food. Going hungry sucked. He stocked up on compressed rations and snacks until his backpack was stuffed.
Next, research. If he was going to keep running into Ultramen and kaiju, he needed to watch all the shows, movies, and specials—not to memorise everything, but at least to get the big picture.
And then, language. Those worlds mostly spoke Japanese. If he couldn't understand them, he'd be in trouble.
By the time he'd spent his allowance on supplies, he was broke.
"Tch. How can an Ultraman like me be defeated by a few lousy coins?" he grumbled. But reality was harsh. He wanted to buy a tent—just in case he got dropped in the wilderness next time—but one look at the price tag and his empty wallet said otherwise.
Back in his room, Yuzhou sighed. "Forget it. I'll make do for now. Next time, I'll be ready."
If only I had some cheat power from a web novel—x-ray vision, instant headshots, stone-gambling for millions… He shook his head and booted up his computer, queuing up episodes of Ultraman Tiga. Naturally, as Tiga himself, he had to start with his own series and appearances in the movies.
This became his routine: classes by day, Ultraman marathons by night, and self-study Japanese crammed in between.
When the school opened elective course registration, Yuzhou immediately signed up for Japanese.
"Whoa, Yuzhou, you serious?" his classmate Wei Feng gawked. "There are way easier electives. You picked Japanese?"
"It's fine," Yuzhou replied calmly. "I'm here to learn, not just scrape by."
Wei Feng smirked. "Heh, don't fool me. I heard a lot of girls take Japanese. You sly dog."
"Is that so?" Yuzhou tilted his head, genuinely blank. His reasons were practical, nothing more.
Wei Feng studied his confused face, then sighed. "Okay, guess you really are serious about learning." But a moment later, he frowned. "Wait—why would a Business Management major even bother with Japanese?"
"…Fine, think whatever you want. Say it's because of the girls if that makes you happy," Yuzhou muttered, not bothering to explain.
Wei Feng grinned like a fox. "Knew it!"
But when Yuzhou arrived at his first elective class, reality hit him like a ton of bricks.
The room was packed wall-to-wall with girls. And he—the lone guy—had picked a seat right in the middle.
"...I'm screwed," Yuzhou whispered.
Sure enough, the whispers started.
"Hey, what department are you from?" one girl asked, curious.
"Me? I'm from the Milky Way," he deadpanned.
"…What?"
The semester went on. Despite being constantly surrounded by chatty girls, Yuzhou held firm, head buried in his notes. Study hard. Study well. Study every day. He recited like a model student, refusing to be distracted.
Twenty-nine days later, he dreamed again.
The red-dress girl returned, clutching her red ball.
"Your first world-travel went smoother than expected," she said.
"Could you not kidnap me without warning? A little notice before the space vortex opens wouldn't kill you!" Yuzhou shot back. He'd spent the whole month paranoid, afraid he'd be sucked away in the middle of class. He'd even started hiding in empty corners between lectures.
"Your travel cycle is once every thirty days," she answered plainly.
"…Guess you've got a shred of conscience after all," Yuzhou muttered. "Fine. What about the destinations? How are those chosen?"
"Random."
"…You little—" Yuzhou bit his tongue. Great. Last time I got lucky. Lots of Ultramen around, even managed to beat the boss. But what if next time I drop into Belial's world? I'd be KO'd in one punch.
"I heard that," the girl said calmly.
"…Crap, forgot she can read minds." He gave her an awkward smile. "Ahem. Anyway, I've got questions. Lots of them. Why me? When's this supposed 'crisis' you mentioned happening? Care for a game of catch? And seriously, can I get a paycheck? I'm broke over here."
The girl only smiled, saying nothing.
"Fine, fine. Don't tell me." He waved his hand in defeat. "Last question then: who are you, really?"
From the start, she'd been a mystery. The red ball, the power to hand him a Spark Lens, the ability to toss him between worlds—why couldn't she just save the worlds herself? Why drag in a broke student like him?
Instead of answering, the girl simply said, "Young man, do your best."
And then she floated away, fading into the sky.
The next morning, Yuzhou was wrenched awake.
He opened his eyes, furious. "The hell—?!"
His feet, still in his sleep pants, were already being sucked into another vortex. With no time to curse further, he snatched up the backpack he'd prepared by his bed.
A second later, both he and the bag were swallowed whole by the distortion.