049 Aerial Battle

With a sharp chime, everything suddenly went black.

In a dimly lit rented room, a young man slowly woke up.

He was wearing a jet-black helmet, the golden-framed white pentagram emblem on its front gradually fading into the darkness.

Xiu Nan reached out and removed the helmet.

He glanced around in confusion, feeling a vague sense of unfamiliarity—after all, he had spent three whole days inside the game world. Rising to his feet, Xiu Nan carefully placed the helmet in the inner corner of his desk to keep it from rolling off and getting damaged.

He opened the window and looked outside. The city was awash in neon lights, a gentle, cool breeze drifting in to clear the fog from his mind.

“Wait, what time is it?”

He turned and picked up his phone, checking the screen.

“23:30.”

When he’d put on the virtual helmet, he hadn’t checked the time, but he remembered it was around eight o’clock.

In other words, only a little over three hours had passed in the real world, while he had experienced more than three days inside the game! The difference in the flow of time was astonishing.

He also noticed something unusual.

He didn’t feel the slightest fatigue, nor any urge to use the bathroom. At this moment, Xiu Nan’s mind felt as refreshed as if he’d just woken from a good night’s sleep, and his body was as if he had just washed up and stepped out the door.

“This must be thanks to that virtual helmet…”

He glanced over at the pitch-black helmet in the corner.

Compared to before, Xiu Nan thought the virtual helmet was nothing short of miraculous. He could even play games during the time he’d usually spend sleeping!

He made up his mind: aside from meals and earning a living by writing novels, he would devote all his remaining time to the game. Who didn’t long for a grand and tumultuous second life? Xiu Nan was no exception.

Seizing his clarity of mind, he spent three hours preparing enough manuscripts to last the next few days, setting them up for scheduled release. Then he worked out, ordered some takeout, and by the time he finished showering and stepped out of the bathroom, it was already four in the morning.

He gave his hair a quick blow dry, slipped under the covers, and picked up the helmet lying beside him, donning it with a sense of ceremony.

Ding!

The pentagram emblem flashed.

Buzz, buzz, buzz… The noise in his ears gradually faded away.

In the next instant, Xiu Nan shook his head to reorient himself. Before him was a cockpit window, beyond which stretched endless, cotton-candy clouds rolling in undulating waves.

“Sir, sir?”

A beautiful flight attendant in uniform was gently calling to him, a menu in her hand.

“Yes?” Xiu Nan turned his head.

“Would you like to order lunch, sir? It’s already midday.”

Seeing a handsome young man turning her way, the flight attendant’s bright smile grew even warmer as she patiently introduced the menu.

Fifteen minutes later.

An array of delectable dishes was spread out in front of Xiu Nan: fruit jam cake, creamy baked lobster, smoked beef ribs, crispy bagels, and more. There was even a small bottle of amber-hued gin at his side.

Xiu Nan ate heartily. Back at the Seven-Letter Corporation’s sanatorium, his surgical wounds had not yet healed, so he could only eat simple fare. He hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the delicacies of this other world.

Xiu Nan wasn’t a man of many hobbies—he just liked playing games and eating good food. Now, both passions were being satisfied at once; he was enjoying gourmet food directly within the game.

In the cabin, a man suddenly stood up.

He was tall and burly, as massive as a bear. His shirt strained over his muscle-bound frame, ready to burst at the seams.

The surrounding passengers glanced at him, then returned to their own affairs. The man casually pulled a few napkins from the table, seemingly on his way to the restroom.

He strode briskly forward.

When there were ten meters left between them, Xiu Nan suddenly looked up, meeting the burly man’s eyes in a sharp, electric stare.

“Die!”

The carpet beneath their feet suddenly split, revealing a giant footprint. Like a rampaging bull, the behemoth charged forward, his muscles swelling with every step. His clothes ripped apart, exposing a silvery-white body that shimmered with a metallic sheen beneath the cabin lights.

He stomped down, launching a punch with the force of a cannonball.

Boom! The upholstery exploded, airplane seats were smashed, and debris flew everywhere.

“Where’d he go?” The muscleman frowned, the muscles at the corners of his eyes bunching together like horizontal stripes.

Bang, bang, bang, bang…

A volley of bullets whistled through the air, crashing into the muscleman’s face and sending sparks flying.

Xiu Nan, guns in both hands, squeezed the triggers without pause. He darted to the giant’s flank as if shifting through shadows, and in the next instant, appeared behind him.

“Yes, this is it!”

Xiu Nan finally tasted the thrill of using meditative time—all movement around him seemed to slow to a crawl, as if someone had set a movie to slow motion.

Cotton fluff drifted, a bottle rolled, amber liquor swirling in midair, bullets inching forward. All around, people seemed frozen: some blinking slowly, some cowering with their heads in their hands, some crying out in terror.

These sounds stretched and warped in Xiu Nan’s ears.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets rained down on the muscleman’s back.

What remained of his clothing was shredded, revealing a ring embedded in the skin between his shoulder blades—a bluish-gray band etched with dense runes, each glyph blinking in rhythm.

A powerful Secret Ring Adept!

Clang, clang, clang!

The muscleman whirled around, reaching out to slap away a hail of incoming bullets. With a mighty squeeze, he crushed five or six bullets together into a jagged steel ball.

Whoosh! He hurled his massive arm, flinging the metal sphere at Xiu Nan.

Xiu Nan jerked backward, the steel ball grazing his chin before punching a hole in the distant cabin door, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.

At that moment, two more men suddenly rose from their seats, drawing guns from inside their jackets and opening fire on Xiu Nan, who had paused for just an instant. The assassin had accomplices!

Xiu Nan rolled aside as bullets tore through empty space. With a swift push, he sprang up and swung his pistols, sending two nine-millimeter rounds flying at nearly four hundred meters per second.

But the two assassins ducked instantly, hiding behind seatbacks to evade the first wave.

Whoosh, whoosh! As the bullets skimmed above the seats, they suddenly curved downward, striking both assassins squarely on the crown of their heads—killing them instantly.

“Stop struggling! Just die already!” the muscleman roared, charging forward with silvery arms like battering rams. The violent gust from his fists rippled through Xiu Nan’s shirt, sending waves of wrinkles cascading across the fabric.

Though Xiu Nan had just killed two attackers, the exertion had drained his mental strength. He triggered meditative time in the nick of time, dodging the oncoming fists, but the muscleman’s charge still closed in on him like an avalanche.

Blood gushed from Xiu Nan’s mouth.