Chapter 106: I'm Here, So This Place Is No Longer Hell 【Moon Ticket Supplemental Update】

[Rust Iron Hell, Zone 5 — On a suspended crane tower]

Amidst a drizzling downpour, a decaying construction site creaked under the weight of silence. Tian Dao leaned casually against the steel beam at the edge of a towering crane, one hand idly tapping the surface of his Dimensional Screen.

Six years had carved away the softness of his youth, shaping him into a figure of sharp angles and unyielding presence. At a towering 190 cm, with the flawless nine-head proportion of Perfection, even his relaxed posture radiated the effortless elegance of a high-fashion model.

“Cash-for-Prayer monk?” Tian Dao mused aloud, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Chen Kong’s really changed, huh. Back then, he’d turn crimson just from eye contact with a pretty girl.”

He spoke freely—because he knew these words would never be broadcast. There was no need for pretense. After all, he’d purchased a modest but invaluable privilege from the Popularity Store.

[Edit Privilege: You may freely delete any footage you don’t wish to be aired]

[Popularity Price: 200,000]

“Honestly, even after reading the original story dozens of times… I still can’t connect the current Chen Kong to the boy he was six years ago. The gap is too vast.”

“Apart from the obvious, I guess the production team left plenty of blank spaces for manipulation during those missing six years. Otherwise, how’d the original Chen Kong—meant to be sent near the Seven Floating Cities—end up here, in the Steam Capital, so far from the core of the New Federation?”

Yet his tone remained light, almost playful.

Because while Chen Kong had changed—he had changed even more.

To steal the top spot in popularity from him? Chen Kong was still far, far behind.

“Alright. Time to move.”

Tian Dao stood, his silver-white fringe fluttering in the wind that howled across the 30-meter-high crane. His black coat flared like a shadow in motion. He took one step forward—then turned his back to the ground, arms outstretched.

His body plunged downward, freefalling with perfect, unresisting grace.

But just before impact, a silent vector field enveloped him.

In an instant, his descent slowed—his body spun like a feather in midair—then landed with effortless elegance.

Afterward, he pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen saver.

There, in the photo, was the two of them—him and Kalolin—on the rooftop of Deep Blue Metropolis, just before they left. A candid, slightly silly selfie.

He stared at the image: his goofy grin, Kalolin’s instinctive toss of her hair under the sun.

For a fleeting moment, his sapphire eyes flickered with something deeper—nostalgia, longing, memory.

Then he shook his head, pocketed the phone.

“Miracle’s Key… if you hadn’t read the original, who’d believe the much-coveted Key was just a green-haired kid?”

“Sure, stepping in might alter the story’s course.”

“But compared to letting an innocent child suffer unspeakable torment?”

“…A small shift in the plot is nothing.”

“And if Kalolin knew? I’m certain she’d tell me to do it.”

“She loves cute little animals, after all.”

With that, Tian Dao adjusted his sunglasses and strode toward the entrance of a derelict factory, bathed in the dim yellow glow of a lone streetlamp.

His shadow stretched long and thin across the wet ground.

Though his expression was calm—almost casual, like a man out for a stroll—something about the shadow he cast felt… unnerving. Deep. Unnaturally vast.

Six years had changed many things.

But two things remained untouched.

One: his sky-and-earth-is-his-kingdom arrogance.

The other: his utterly unreasonable power.

After all, even his shadow could make a man feel like he was being crushed by silence.

Was Steam Capital’s Rust Iron District a living hell?

No matter.

As long as he was here—this place was no longer hell.

Chen Kong would adapt to the world.

But Tian Dao?

He would make the world adapt to him.

---

[Rust Iron Hell, Zone 5]

[Gray Rat Gang’s Hideout — Abandoned Factory]

In the rain-lashed night, two Gray Rat Gang members leaned against a rusted iron gate, bored out of their minds. Acidic rain dripped from their gas masks, splashing into puddles below, sending ripples across the dark water.

“Hey… did you feel it? Like something just… passed through us?”

One suddenly stiffened, turning to his partner, voice strained.

“Huh?” The other snapped, shaking out his soaked sleeve. “In this weather? Who’d come here besides us? You’re hallucinating.”

The first guard rubbed his temple, groaning. “Yeah… maybe I’ve been up too long. Just tired.”

He didn’t see it.

Just as he spoke, a silver-haired figure in a black coat walked past them—unhurried, casual, as if the rain and silence were nothing.

And as the guard’s words faded, Tian Dao deliberately relaxed a sliver of his All-Forms Concealment.

He stomped hard on a puddle.

Sploosh—

“What was that?!”

The guard spun around, eyes wide behind his mask, scanning the darkness.

But there was nothing—just rippling water.

His partner slapped his shoulder. “You really need a break. After shift, let’s grab a drink.”

“Yeah… I really do.”

Neither of them noticed.

Tian Dao had already stepped between them.

His hand rested lightly on one guard’s shoulder.

Beneath his sunglasses, his sapphire eyes gleamed—playful, knowing.

This was the power of Tian Dao’s Vector Control · All-Forms Concealment.

So absolute, that unless facing a Level 4 Catastrophe Stellar Envoy—or a rare, unique Level 3 Stellar Envoy—no one could perceive him at all. His presence vanished completely.

“Now… where was that kid kept again?”

He snapped his fingers.

“Ah—got it. Left side. Underground warehouse.”

With hands in his pockets, Tian Dao strolled off, whistling softly—unseen, unheard, utterly undisturbed.

---

[Abandoned Factory — Underground Warehouse]

Flickering fluorescent lights cast long, jagged shadows across the warehouse floor.

Dozens of armed guards patrolled in rigid formation, their footsteps echoing in the confined space like ghosts.

Tian Dao stood with arms crossed, leaning against a corroded steel pillar. His silver hair stood out starkly under the dim light.

He surveyed the heavily fortified chamber, lips curling into a cold, mocking smile.

“Funny. They guard fakes like treasures… but treat the real Key like trash.”

He stepped past guards without pause, moving toward the far end—a small, unassuming cell.

Inside, a green-haired girl huddled in the corner, knees pulled tight to her chest, trembling like a wounded animal.

Tian Dao’s gaze softened—just for a moment.

A flicker of memory.

Then he raised a hand toward the iron bars.

Crack.

No tools. No force.

Under the invisible pressure of his Vector Control, the bars bent—gaped open, wide enough for a man to pass.

He stepped inside, then deactivated his concealment.

His voice, gentle as sunlight, broke the silence.

“Hey, little one… want a lollipop?”

“Eat it. You won’t be afraid anymore.”

Dannika looked up.

Her eyes met his.

A pair of calm, sapphire-blue eyes.

And a plain, ordinary lollipop.

Years later, when Dannika grew up, she finally understood one truth.

That lollipop wasn’t just candy.

It was light.

A light—a light called redemption.

It was the first spark of hope she’d seen in the endless darkness of hell.

---

PS: Today’s update complete. Please consider voting for the moon ticket!

Well, fam—Tian finally couldn’t keep his promise of five timely updates.

But he did manage four.

These four aren’t counted toward the promised five—just standard supplemental updates.

Starting tomorrow, he’s going for the 8:30 PM Big Update Sprint again for the next three days!

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end