Transcending Boundaries: Journey to the Infinite

Untitled Part 3

Rainy Night

Beside the Qinglong Mountain Highway, Yang Chu, drenched to the bone, slumped against a phone booth, gasping for breath.

After leaving that desolate warehouse, he had stumbled through the rain for nearly a kilometer, collapsing several times as he forgot to breathe and his heart threatened to stop. Finally, he managed to drag himself into this phone booth by the roadside.

The increasingly heavy rain, coupled with torn leg ligaments, a slightly fractured foot bone, and the injuries from his kidnapping and beating, left his body in terrible shape.

Pain, weakness, a body growing heavier with every passing moment—

Even though Yang Chu's conscious mind could ignore the negative feedback from his body, making it move forward like a machine, the complex operations of his internal systems were becoming overwhelming for his mind to keep up with.

At this moment, Yang Chu's brain felt like a frantic worker trying to manage multiple assembly lines at once, doing everything it could to keep all his body's systems running smoothly.

The loss of his subconscious, which required him to actively control every system in his body, was an incredibly challenging task.

But fortunately, his consciousness was slowly adapting. Whether stimulating his heart to beat, breathing, or occasionally adjusting the operations of his other systems, it was all becoming a repetitive, rhythmic process.

It was like playing a drum set. One moment he needed to step on the bass drum and hi-hat pedals; the next, he had to hit the snare drum or tap the toms and crash cymbals.

There were many threads to manage, but as he stopped his motor system and leaned against the phone booth, he found a moment of mental clarity to reflect on the information he had gathered.

The glass door of the phone booth was plastered with blue traditional Chinese characters for "Island Communications" and various illegal advertisements. The heavy metal payphone inside was covered with phone numbers from different regions.

"So, I've traveled back to Hong Kong in the '80s or '90s..."

From the phone numbers posted in the booth and various ads, as well as the Hong Kong dollars he had found on that thug, Yang Chu roughly figured out his location.

Hong Kong Island.

As for the time—

There wasn't much concrete information in the phone booth, but inside the wallet, there was an ID card belonging to what appeared to be a street thug, born in 1966. Judging by his age, which seemed to be in his twenties or thirties, Yang Chu deduced that it was likely the late '80s or early '90s.

He now had some idea of his location and the era he was in, but these realizations didn't help solve his current problems.

In the past half-hour, the more he grasped control over his body's eight systems, the more he realized how dire his physical condition was.

After all, this was a body that had been beaten, imprisoned, and revived after death.

"My first goal now is to find a place to rest."

The next step, Yang Chu knew, was to think about where he could settle down.

Even though he was aware that he was on Hong Kong Island, his surroundings were desolate, with no villages in sight. It seemed like a remote suburban area.

When he arrived in this body, it had already been dead, with no subconscious, no memory, and no possessions.

The only things he had were the wallet and ID, which belonged to the deceased thug.