Only the faint blue glow of the monitor and the faint clatter of keys remained in the room.
Emma had finished another day's work. The dense formulas and student grades on the screen left little trace in her mind; they were merely necessary routines to fill time, a barrier against the world outside the window—a world too noisy, too incongruous with the dead silence within her.
Her life was like stagnant water, incapable of stirring even a ripple. With no family and few friends, her days were precisely divided between the classroom and her apartment, a monotonous two-point line. It was a form of self-exile, yet also a form of protection.
Her gaze drifted unconsciously to a corner of the bookshelf, where the cover of Beast World Sacrifice: Nightmare of the Original Dream showed signs of wear. It was one of the few books she revisited repeatedly. Not because the story brought her joy—quite the opposite—but because of its extreme anguish.
She opened it once more, skipping straight to the suffocating final chapter.
The power of the words dragged her back into that vortex of despair. She could almost feel the excruciating pain of Gu Liang being torn apart, and even more keenly, every moment of his loneliness and struggle, built up over the long narrative. That seed of resistance, never extinguished despite being objectified, stripped bare, and pushed to the brink... Each reading felt like a boulder dropped into the calm, still waters of her heart.
"It's too painful..." she murmured unconsciously, her fingers lightly brushing the characters "Gu Liang" on the page.
Why did she feel such profound empathy for a fictional character? She couldn't explain it. Perhaps because in him, she saw another form of "loneliness"—an absolute solitude, exiled from the entire world—which strangely resonated with her own self-imposed isolation.
But the difference was, he kept fighting until his destruction.
Closing the book, a thought surged through her with such intensity it startled even herself:
"If I had been there... If I could have found him before it all happened..."
The notion was utterly absurd, yet strangely alluring. Like a seed, it fell into her barren spiritual landscape and began voraciously absorbing her restless energy and emotions.
From that day on, things began to change.
She no longer "read"—she "studied." Like the most fanatical exam candidate, her "subject" was surviving the Stone Age and saving a man.
She devoted every spare moment to obsessively gathering, studying, and organizing every piece of knowledge that might prove useful:
Survival skills: locating and purifying water sources in the wild, starting fires without tools, crafting simple traps, identifying edible plants and toxins.
Medical knowledge: trauma first aid, infection management, herbal identification and application (she even ordered common herb samples online for practice).
Technical principles: Simple mechanical concepts like levers, pulleys, and wedges; foundational chemistry such as pottery firing and alkali production from wood ash. She didn't memorize steps but grasped underlying principles to adapt to any situation.
Supplies Preparation: She began calmly yet frantically purchasing and gathering items. She understood clearly that her carrying capacity was limited in both weight and volume, demanding extreme optimization.
A large, professional mountaineering backpack was essential, featuring a sturdy frame and comfortable carrying system.
Core Tools: A multi-functional entrenching tool (capable of digging, chopping, and sawing), a high-quality full-tine hunting knife, several metal water bottles, a magnesium fire starter, and a solar power bank (to charge any small electronics she might carry).
Medical supplies: A well-stocked first-aid kit (bandages, gauze, hemostatic powder, antibiotics, painkillers, suture kit), potassium permanganate tablets (for disinfection and water purification).
Survival Supplies: A large bag of salt (for preservation, seasoning, or even trade), compressed biscuits, several chocolate bars, a packet of mixed precious seeds, fishing line and hooks, a small roll of paracord.
Knowledge carriers: Several permanent markers and thick, waterproof notebooks with extremely thin paper, filled with meticulously organized knowledge points and diagrams categorized by subject.
Her apartment living room resembled a base camp for an explorer preparing for departure. She repeatedly inspected, streamlined, and adjusted every item in her backpack, weighing each gram. This process itself was her way of combating emptiness, translating her obsessive thoughts into tangible action.
Finally, her gaze settled on a small photo frame tucked into the corner of her desk. Inside was the only picture she had with her younger brother, their smiles in the photo so bright they were almost blinding. She stared silently for a few seconds, then deftly dismantled the frame, removed the slightly faded photograph, and tucked it into the innermost compartment of her climbing pack. It was as if she were sealing away the world she no longer had any attachment to.
Until that night.
She relived Gu Liang's death in her dream once more, waking drenched in cold sweat, her heart clenching in pain. Sitting at her desk, she instinctively opened the notebook, spreading her notes before her. Her eyes darted between the section titled "Gu Liang's Death" and the page detailing "Edible Plants of the Black Forest."
A wave of helplessness nearly crushed her.
"Useless..." she murmured to herself. "It's all fake."
The instant that thought arose, the text on the page seemed to warp slightly, and an extremely faint light—almost as if it were a trick of the eye—flashed by.
Emma froze.
Immediately afterward, a cold, inhuman, yet astonishingly clear stream of information surged into her mind as if forcibly implanted:
[Target World Coordinates Confirmed...]
[Individual 'Emma' soul wavelength match: 99.7%...]
[Transmission protocol initiated...]
[Rule Implantation: Language Module Loading... Physical Adaptability Adjustment...]
[Warning: Unidirectional dimensional jump. Energy supports one-way transmission only. No reverse channel available.]
[Final Confirmation: Do you accept the 'Eternal Exile' contract and proceed to the designated coordinates?]
No sound, no visual effects. Only this information imprinted directly into her consciousness, and a cold choice.
Emma's breath caught in her throat.
In that instant, she understood everything. Her "unrealistic" preparations, that overwhelming impulse—they weren't baseless. They were a call, and she had answered it.
There was no turning back. Once chosen, it was forever.
The modern world held little left for her to cherish. There was no warm light waiting for her return, no duties she must fulfill.
In the other world, a soul was plummeting through endless darkness.
No hesitation, no cries. Only a calm bordering on tragic resolve.
Deep within her consciousness, she made her choice.
When the message [Contract Established] flooded her mind, she instinctively lunged for the massive backpack already prepared and placed within reach, gripping the straps tightly in her hands.
[Transfer Initiated.]
She felt a peculiar sensation of weightlessness—not as if her body were being torn apart, but as if the entire "space"—including herself and the backpack in close physical contact with her—had been precisely "cut" and "pasted" into another dimension by some force.
The room remained silent, as if nothing had ever happened.
Only the desk remained, now empty of its occupant.