Chapter Forty-Three: In Pursuit of a Perfect Mortal Form

Du Fang entered the Dream Passage Tower and made his way to the sixteenth floor.

The members of the Wildfire Squad were gathered in the training room, and when Du Fang arrived, they were all in the midst of training, except for Captain Zhang, who was wrapped in bandages and puffing on a cigarette.

“Ah, Little Du, you’re here,” Zhang Changlin said, nodding in Du Fang’s direction.

A gentle smile appeared on Du Fang’s face. “Captain Zhang, I ran into an elderly gentleman downstairs looking for you. He was dressed in a black suit, very elegant and refined.”

Zhang Changlin paused. “Looking for me?”

“Impossible. Among all the old men I know, none wear suits. They prefer traditional attire instead.”

“Captain Zhang doesn’t know him?” Du Fang was momentarily puzzled, scratching the back of his head in thought, then laughed. “Well, perhaps he’s a survivor you rescued from a dream disaster, wanting to present a banner of thanks.”

Dream Passers are much like doctors—they deliver people from calamity. Doctors heal physical maladies, whereas Dream Passers guide people through the perils of their dreams. It’s not uncommon for patients to come bearing tokens of gratitude.

“Hmm, that’s possible. So, where is the old gentleman? Why didn’t you bring him up?” Mentioning a banner of thanks seemed to energize Zhang Changlin; his injuries ceased to trouble him.

“He probably had urgent matters—he left in quite a hurry,” Du Fang replied after thinking for a moment.

Zhang Changlin waved his hand, instantly losing interest. “Well, forget it.”

“Come here, Little Du. The Newcomer Dream Passer Invitational is only a couple of days away. Xiao Xi already knows the rules, but you—this must be your first time hearing about the tournament. Let me explain it to you.” Zhang Changlin took a drag from his cigarette, blowing a smoke ring.

“Captain, there’s a child,” Du Fang reminded him after a moment’s thought.

Zhang Changlin fell silent.

Here we go again. Where is this supposed child? This nonsense again. Yet, over these past days, Zhang Changlin had come to understand Du Fang’s situation—this kid had a lingering mental illness, a side effect of surviving a dream disaster. Poor child. Zhang would not hold it against him.

He stubbed out his cigarette and spoke calmly, “Don’t let the word ‘invitational’ fool you—the Newcomer Dream Passer Invitational is hugely popular, second only to the National Dream Passer Championship.”

“In fact, the tournament system is quite similar to the national championship, with provincial and national stages, though it lacks the team event for Dream Passer squads.”

“The champion of the Newcomer Invitational is honored as the Rising Star, and receives a wealth of resources from the Dream Passer Association. Old Su should have told you this.”

“But you must understand how difficult it is to win.”

“There are thirty-four provincial administrative regions across the country, each with a Dream Passer Association and countless cities hosting Dream Passage Towers. Each city’s gold squads number three, silver squads ten, and bronze squads even more. All are elite, and the newcomers they select are chosen with utmost care.”

“On top of that, the pressure from the Dream Passer squads in the mega-cities is overwhelming. Even their rookie Dream Passers are exceptionally strong.”

“The pressure in Jiangling City is much less by comparison. The city hasn’t faced many high-level dream disasters—just last month, that bizarre Grade Nine dream disaster you survived, which ended inexplicably.”

“Other mega-cities have all encountered terrifying dream disasters. Many rookies have survived even city-destroying events…”

“In front of them, you, Du Fang…well, you’re not much.”

Zhang Changlin looked at Du Fang with a solemn expression, instilling in him just how daunting the newcomer tournament would be. His purpose was simple—he didn’t want Du Fang to get carried away. He only gave such serious reminders to those he held high expectations for. If he expected nothing, he’d simply say, as he did to Chen Xi:

“Enjoy the competition,”
“It’s all about participation.”
…
…
Roaring erupted from the back seat.

Driver Lao Chang was startled, forgetting his white gloves, and slammed the accelerator, launching the luxury limousine forward.

Never before had Lao Chang seen his master so distraught. He knew well how formidable his master was—someone who would not flinch even before the president of the Jiangling City Dream Passer Association.

But now, his master was radiating pure terror.

It was a kind of fear—as if confronted by an unspeakable evil deity!

What on earth had his master encountered to lose all composure? Just moments ago, he was chatting with that bright, lively young man, who looked perfectly harmless and rather handsome. How could such a person provoke this kind of terror?

Could it be…his master’s identity was exposed? Had the president of the Jiangling Dream Passer Association discovered him?

But even if exposed, his master would never be so frightened—after all, he could certainly hold his own.

Lao Chang dared not speak, dared not ask.

Through the rearview mirror, he saw his master drenched in sweat.

All he could do was drive, racing down the road.

The speed climbed ever higher; since his master hadn’t told him to slow down, he didn’t dare ease up.

The pace kept increasing.

Traffic rules be damned.

Police warnings and sirens sounded from both sides, but Lao Chang did not stop.

The old man slumped against the leather seat, gasping for air.

His hat was askew, his suit rumpled and untidy—a shocking sight for someone so meticulous about etiquette and appearance.

“What on earth…”

“What kind of monster is that?” Sweat beaded endlessly on the old man’s forehead beneath his white hair.

He wiped it away with a handkerchief, lingering shock in his eyes.

What truly terrified him was not Du Fang, the young man,
But the little girl beside Du Fang—

Head tilted, mouth full of sharp teeth, radiating the aura of a superior being, looking down upon him from above.

The sensation was as if he’d been cast into Hell.

“A Fallen God?”

With a deep breath, the old man calmed himself as they put distance between themselves and the Dream Passage Tower.

“It must be a Fallen God, and a supremely powerful one at that… That would explain it. Yet, a Fallen God manifesting in reality… How terrifying must its true form be?”

He inhaled sharply once more.

Excitement began to stir within him.

To be able to bear such a powerful Fallen God—
Could this young man possess the exceedingly rare affinity for Fallen God constitution?

He hadn’t examined the young man closely before, startled as he was, but now, reflecting on it, he realized that besides his striking looks, the young man exuded a quality irresistibly attractive—like the depths of the starry sky, the boundless universe, drawing one in without resistance.

He turned, wanting to catch a glimpse of Du Fang through the rear window, to savor that allure once more.

But with Lao Chang’s full-throttle driving, they had already left the Dream Passage Tower far behind.

Du Fang was long gone.

The old man turned back, slightly displeased, and looked at Lao Chang.

“Lao Chang, why did you drive so fast?”

Lao Chang was at a loss.

Wasn’t it because he saw you sweating buckets?

“My apologies, Master,” Lao Chang replied woodenly.

The old man waved his hand. “Never mind, let it go this time. In the future, always maintain elegance, even when fleeing.”

Lao Chang obediently answered, “Yes, Master.”

“All right, pull over. Pay the fines, accept the penalty points.”

“Elegant people must learn to respect rules,” the old man remarked calmly.

Lao Chang was speechless.

So long as it’s not your points and your money, you don’t mind, do you?

But Lao Chang did not dare voice his thoughts, so he parked dutifully and greeted the approaching traffic police with a smile.

These days,
It’s so hard to be an honest driver.

In the car, the old man fell silent, lost in thought.

Once his fear and dread faded, his heart began to burn with ambition.

He planned to have Lao Chang investigate Du Fang’s background and make arrangements.

The old man found himself coveting Du Fang’s unusual constitution.

After he retrieved the “Hand of God” from Zhang Changlin and fused it with Du Fang’s Fallen God affinity,
He might truly craft the perfect physical vessel!

If it were merely a Fallen God, he could gather some companions to help—fighting was not impossible!

For the sake of a perfect body,
He would risk it all!

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