Chapter 11: Parallel Traversal

On a highway surrounding a city that resembled a coastal city on Earth, a car similar to an Audi sped along. In the back seat, two stern-faced men holding weapons pressed their knives against the neck of a fat man.

"Please, sirs, don't kill me! If you want money, I can give it to you. Name your price, and I'll have someone send it over right away. Just don't kill me!" the fat man cried out, his whole body trembling. A stream of yellow liquid flowed from his trousers.

"Damn, he actually pissed himself." One of the men, a burly thug with a shiny bald head, cursed and stepped aside to avoid the urine. He raised his knife and struck the fat man on the forehead with the handle, causing blood to splatter. The fat man immediately clutched his head and wailed as if mourning the death of his parents.

"Four Dog, is that knife of yours just for show? If he screams again, kill him," the middle-aged man driving the car shouted back, causing the other thug, who had a seemingly honest face but was trying to look fierce, to flinch. His hand trembled, and the knife plunged into the fat man's thigh with a "thud."

"Make another sound, and I'll stab you in the gut next," the seemingly honest man threatened viciously. Terrified, the fat man immediately stifled his cries, his small eyes filled with fear as he looked at the three men around him. His nose snorted, and a stream of snot shot out only to be sucked back in.

"Disgusting," the middle-aged man driving the car cursed, slapping the fat man on the forehead. As he turned back around, a blue light flashed in front of the car, seemingly enveloping an object that suddenly fell from the sky. The middle-aged driver screamed in shock and yanked the steering wheel, but it was too late. With a loud crash, the car collided with something as solid as a rock and was sent flying through the air. After several flips, the car landed with all four tires bursting simultaneously.

"Wow, is this 500 years ago? 2010?" A muscular man, standing on the highway, looked around. He was over 1.85 meters tall, with a face chiseled like stone. As he moved his mouth, his muscles bulged, as if chewing on something tough.

"Is this an antique car? It's so fragile. Good thing it happened here. If I damaged an antique car in Holy City, I'd be confined for days." The young man inspected the overturned Audi he had crashed into after falling from the sky, muttering to himself.

"Oh no, I've killed them." Seeing the four bloodied and unconscious people inside the car, the young man's expression changed. He quickly checked each of them and sighed in relief, "Luckily, they just have a few broken bones, and their internal injuries aren't serious. Ancient people's bodies are really weak. Huh? Where's the captain? And the others? Didn't they come with me? We were supposed to arrive together. Maybe the transmission was off, which would be great. I won't have to listen to the captain nagging."

The young man glanced around and assessed the four unconscious men on the ground. He chose the burliest one and swiftly stripped him of his plain black leisure suit, putting it on himself. The shoes barely fit his large feet and split open, his toes sticking out. The young man muttered as a distant car approached. Bending low, he darted off the highway like a nimble cat, running away.

Eventually, someone discovered the car accident, and police and ambulances quickly arrived, followed by reporters with keen noses for news. That night's news reported that three wanted kidnappers had been severely injured in a car accident during their latest kidnapping attempt.

"I knew it, those lunatics at the research institute can't be trusted. They must have messed up the transmission, sending me and the captain to the wrong time. Who knows where the captain ended up? Hopefully not a thousand years ago. Anything's possible." The young man squatted by the roadside, mumbling. In this world, he was truly alone and lost.

The young man looked at the city lights not far away. After hesitating, he straightened up and walked towards the city. On this highway, his solitary figure seemed odd. Even in a familiar city on Earth, he would look like a country bumpkin entering the city.

A small truck pulled up beside him with its hazard lights flashing. The driver rolled down the window and waved, "Hey, buddy! It's the middle of the night. What are you doing on the highway? Need a ride into the city?"

"Yes, please," the young man replied, his voice hoarse but magnetic.

"Hop in. I'll take you there. You'll never make it on foot," the driver said with a hearty laugh.

"Thank you," the young man said, leaping into the back of the truck with a thud.

The driver took him to the city and dropped him off in the downtown area. The young man thanked the driver, who drove off with a smile. The young man looked at the city, feeling a bit lost. Despite his strength and combat skills, which were still formidable despite being partially suppressed during the crossing, he felt bewildered in this unfamiliar place.

He wandered aimlessly until late at night, when the streets were nearly empty. A group of tattooed thugs, reeking of alcohol, swaggered towards him, cackling and brandishing various knives.

Seeing their peculiar-looking knives, the young man shook his head. "Making knives like that reduces their lethality by half. It's an insult to the weapon."

"Hey, big guy, why are you so huge? Even Tiger here isn't that big. Hand over your money if you don't want to get hurt," said the leader, who looked more like a cat than a tiger despite his nickname.

The young man chuckled. Robbers daring to target him amused him. He had been sent here because he had caused too much trouble in Holy City. He was known for being a troublemaker, but his combat achievements saved him from being universally reviled. This mission was an opportunity to let off some steam.

"You're using the knife wrong," the young man said, effortlessly snatching the short, flashy knife from Tiger's hand. He twirled it a few times before slashing Tiger's clothes open, including his underwear, with precise control.

"I…" Tiger began to curse, but the young man glared and grabbed him, slamming him against a nearby wall. The knife flashed and embedded itself in the wall next to Tiger's neck.

Usually, thugs like these would recognize a superior fighter and run, but emboldened by alcohol, they charged at the young man. He laughed and met their attack. With a single slap, he sent the four henchmen flying, their knives ending up in his hands. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the knives, pinning Tiger against the wall in a humiliating display of precision.

"Pathetic," the young man muttered, shaking his head.

"Freeze! Police! Raise your hands, or I'll shoot!" A crisp voice called out. The young man turned to see a young policewoman nervously aiming a small gun at him, her hand shaking slightly, clearly inexperienced.

"That's not how you do it. You need to shoot to disable the opponent immediately," the young man began to lecture, but she cut him off.

"Shut up and raise your hands!" she yelled, baring her small teeth, looking cute despite her stern demeanor.

"Ah, a police officer. I remember, a profession maintaining order 500 years ago," the young man realized, raising his hands. To most people, a gun was terrifying, but to him, it posed little threat. It might not even break his skin. However, the researchers had warned him not to antagonize state authorities, as cooperation could be beneficial.

"Tiger, you again! I'm going to deal with you properly this time," the young policewoman, Officer Yang, handcuffed the young man before recognizing the thug pinned to the wall. Furious, she kicked Tiger twice, making him groan.

"Officer Yang, it wasn't our fault. He…" Tiger stammered, pointing at the young man.

"Shut up and report to the station later, or I'll come after you," she snapped, holstering her gun and dragging the young man to her patrol car. He cooperated willingly, not wanting to cause more trouble.

The police station was nearby, and within minutes they arrived. Two officers on duty came out, amused by the young man's appearance. His clothes were too small, exposing his muscular limbs and abdomen. His shoes were tattered, with most of his toes sticking out.

"What's so funny? I caught someone. He was involved in a street fight. It might have been self-defense," Officer Yang said, stamping her foot.

"Little Yang, why go out patrolling at night? What if something happened to you?" an older officer asked, trying to suppress his laughter.

"I don't care. I caught someone and want to interrogate him," Officer Yang insisted, puffing out her chest.

"Lock him up for the night. We'll deal with it in the morning," the older officer suggested.

"No, I want to interrogate him now. I finally caught someone and want to experience it," Officer Yang argued, shaking her head.

The young man, with his head slightly bowed, looked exasperated. If not for the advice to cooperate with authorities, he could easily overpower these officers.