A Taste of the Infinite

Accompanied by an indescribable chill, Wang Qiu slowly opened his eyes.

At this moment, he stood upon a vast and desolate platform, stretching endlessly in all directions. In its very center floated a colossal sphere of radiant light—like a miniature sun—illuminating the platform alone, while the periphery dissolved into an infinite abyss of darkness, silence, and a mysterious depth that exuded an uncanny force. A mere glance at it left his mind reeling, as though vertigo had seized him.

—This was the so-called Godspace: a sanctuary for the Reincarnators, a grim and sacred reprieve after brutal trials, a convalescent ground for body and soul.

Regrettably, unlike the novel Terror Infinity, this iteration of Godspace did not bestow the gratuitous benefit of a personal android attendant… Of course, one could redeem such an artificial companion using reward points or side quest tokens—but the price was exorbitant. With Wang Qiu's meager assets, affording such a "luxury item" was out of the question. Even with sufficient points, any rational survivor would invest in bloodlines or life-saving equipment instead.

Hence, when Wang Qiu emerged from the light column, no gentle or bubbly anime girl awaited his arrival with a warm welcome.

Those dark days of terror, despair, and gnawing loneliness—he had weathered them alone, trembling beneath a thin blanket.

Of course, within this death-laced space where peril loomed at every turn, merely surviving a film was already a miracle beyond compare.

"...Full-body restoration."

The moment his consciousness returned, Wang Qiu uttered this command. A pillar of soft white light descended upon him, warm and soothing like spring sunlight, lulling him into a dreamlike drowsiness... Yet when the treatment concluded, the resulting bill drew a bitter smile to his lips:

"...Damn it! Not a single external injury, and just repairing my auditory nerves cost 450 points? My God... Fat Tiger's singing really is a weapon of mass destruction. I can't imagine how Nobita managed to survive it all these years…"

Muttering about the extortionate medical expenses, Wang Qiu staggered to his feet and cast a glance around. On the far end of the platform, Doraemon, Haruhi Suzumiya, Yuki Nagato, and Shinnosuke Nohara were already seated in a circle around a roaring campfire. Above the flames hung a massive soup cauldron, beside it a barbecue rack, and all around were piles of rare and exotic ingredients and fruits.

The scene was cheerful and lively, the air saturated with mouth-watering aromas wafting from afar. When Wang Qiu approached, Doraemon waved a bowl at him, calling out, "Hey, Wang Qiu-kun! You're here! Come eat with us!"

The atmosphere was undeniably festive, infectiously relaxed. Even Wang Qiu couldn't help but let a faint smile grace his lips.

But the moment he sat beside Doraemon, picked up a glistening skewer of grilled fish, and noticed the "Godspace Premium" tags attached to the foodstuffs… his heart skipped a beat. Once again, the blinding opulence nearly seared his eyes.

Jewel Meat: Harvested from the mighty Regal Mammoth, encompassing prime cuts from loin to liver, each portion gleamed with a gemlike brilliance. Enhances cellular vitality.

—Cost: 1000 reward points or a D-rank side quest.

Bubble Fruit: A fantastical fruit that enhances mental strength and cellular flexibility.

—Cost: 1000 reward points or a D-rank side quest.

Loin Mushrooms: Luxurious fungi with the texture of sirloin steak. Ideal when lightly grilled and seasoned with salt, pepper, and yuzu vinegar.

—Cost: 200 reward points.

Marbled Tofu: Crafted by the IGO Gourmet Institute using "Great Tuna Belly Soybeans." Rich with plant-based marbling akin to premium beef, yet light and refreshing. A favorite among vegetarian epicures.

—Cost: 50 reward points.

Boneless Pacific Saury: As tender as cephalopod flesh, entirely edible from head to tail once grilled. Pairs dangerously well with beer.

—Cost: 10 reward points.

...

Every item here hailed from Toriko, each a legendary delicacy of inconceivable rarity—and price. Yet next to the cheerful bonfire picnic of Haruhi and the others, these culinary treasures were stacked like firewood.

"Hey—don't tell me you spent all your reward points on food? That's insane!" Wang Qiu exclaimed. "What about gear, bloodlines, special abilities—your means of survival? If you squander your precious points on feasting, how do you expect to endure in this merciless world?"

"Now, now! Don't be so uptight, mister!" Haruhi, tipsy from sweet wine and beer, hiccupped with a giggle and draped her arm over his shoulder. "After a nerve-wracking adventure, what's more essential than good wine and a lavish feast to soothe the spirit? Alas—no belly-dancing entertainers, no wandering bards with guitars… it all feels a bit plain."

"I could do a butt-wiggling dance for you instead!" Shin-chan volunteered with a grin.

"Rejected!" Haruhi promptly smacked his forehead. "No one can eat while watching your butt wiggle."

Amidst the mirth, Wang Qiu didn't wish to dampen their spirits, so he sat and joined the banquet. Yet as he chewed the succulent Jewel Meat, he couldn't help mulling over a curious realization: perhaps their refusal to redeem bloodlines or abilities wasn't as foolish as it first appeared.

Doraemon—merely a defective robotic cat, not even an organic lifeform—had no biological systems to enhance.

Haruhi Suzumiya—a self-proclaimed goddess capable of shaping reality itself—what bloodline could possibly surpass hers?

Yuki Nagato—an alien entity wielding data manipulation powers bordering on omnipotence—was already formidable beyond comprehension.

And Shin-chan… that unholy "idiotification" ability, capable of lowering enemy IQs and dismantling their sanity, was arguably the most terrifying power of all.

"Still… couldn't you at least redeem a few tools?" Wang Qiu mumbled through mouthfuls of grilled fish. "Is there really nothing you wanted to buy?"

"Of course we bought things! From bunny girl outfits and Arabian dancer costumes to Valkyrie armor and mage robes—we bought over 300 sets! Plus accessories and weapons! They're all stashed in Doraemon's pocket for Mikuru to try on later!"

Haruhi twirled a finger mischievously. "I can't wait to see Mikuru in them!"

Oh dear. At this rate, poor Mikuru will cry for sure—absolutely cry!

...Still, Haruhi, flushed with wine and laughing so freely—was undeniably captivating.

Yet… something felt off.

"I bought Dad a premium golf set, Mom the priciest fitness gear, Aoi twenty Korean idol dolls, and Shiro and my kindergarten buddies some small gifts... Also got myself two body pillows with pretty big sisters on them," Shin-chan said sheepishly. "I wanted to redeem a real pretty sister, but I ran out of points..."

Wow. Who knew Shin-chan had such a sense of family… Wait—something's definitely off here.

"I didn't earn many points or side quests, so I spent them all on ingredients and cooking tools." —Yuki Nagato.

"I had some points left," Doraemon added, face flushed from drink. "So I bought twenty cases of premium cosmic dorayaki, a hundred bottles of top-grade catnip tea... also got rare liquor for Nobita's dad, Chanel makeup for his mom, and caught some zombies for Nobita..."

Only then did Wang Qiu begin to realize something deeply strange about their casual chatter.

—After barely escaping a horror film alive, their first thought upon returning to Godspace wasn't about upgrading or enhancing gear, but rather eating, drinking, and buying gifts—as if they'd returned from a sightseeing trip and were shopping for souvenirs.

Hey… do they really think Godspace is some ordinary place you can drop in and out of at will?

Also—giving a child as unlucky as Nobita a pack of zombies as a gift? That's seriously messed up!

They might just end up triggering Resident Evil: Nobita's Outbreak in Tokyo!

Yet shortly after, Wang Qiu would learn a startling truth—

For certain beings who can trample all laws, logic, and even reality itself...

Godspace truly is just another place to visit,

as easily entered and exited as one might stroll through a dream.