Chapter 631 - 14: Ivan’s Request
Two years have passed in the blink of an eye.
Ivan traded a massive amount of gold for that photo from Chen Zhou, and after the transaction, he vanished as if he evaporated from the world.
Chen Zhou didn’t know whether Ivan found the lost experimental base or uncovered the secrets of the Aphasiac or Rusted Holy Body; he only knew his own life had become increasingly dull.
For him, these two years felt longer than the 28 years on the isolated island.
He attempted to find the meaning of existence through various means.
Rappelling, skateboarding, rock climbing, bungee jumping, cross-country, mountaineering, wingsuit flying, deep diving...
All the extreme sports he had never tried before, those that made him flinch, he tried them all.
An extraordinary physical condition endowed him with quick adaptability, allowing him to stand out rapidly in various extreme sports.
Among wealthy heirs and young professionals who had achieved financial freedom, the name "Chen" began to quietly spread.
Many professional competitions started inviting Chen Zhou to participate, and journalists flocked in like sharks smelling blood.
However, "Chen" seemed like a hermit seeking the ultimate realm, almost impossible to track outside of snow-covered mountains or the ocean’s complex cave systems.
"Extreme passion," "pure enthusiast of extreme sports," the media described Chen Zhou this way in their profiles.
They unanimously felt that Chen Zhou was someone who loved adventure, who wanted to maximize his potential, pursuing the "higher, faster, stronger" spirit of sports to transcend himself.
Only Chen Zhou knew his obsession with extreme sports was due to his monotonous life; he sought only excitement and freshness, nothing more.
...
Usually, when people acquire enough money for a lifetime during their youth, they fall into a deep abyss of pleasure-seeking—
Alcohol, lust, gambling, and even drugs and crime, all of which quickly transform their wealth into stimuli for the mind and senses.
To Chen Zhou’s own astonishment, he couldn’t muster any interest in these relatively low-level thrills, as if his ability to perceive such simple pleasures had been entirely stripped away.
Upon analysis, he felt that this might have been caused by changes in his body post-challenges.
If those blue-colored beings from the Space-Time Administration Bureau were indeed higher-dimensional beings, they probably rid themselves of such low-level tastes eons ago.
Going bolder in thought, perhaps they never even comprehended or experienced the pleasure that humans derive from chemicals and crime.
Hence, while evolution enhanced his functions, it deprived him of certain pursuits and emotions, making it hard for him to find joy in everyday life.
Worryingly, this monotonous life might persist for another hundred years—
During these two years, Chen Zhou had returned to his private hospital for regular examinations.
The results showed, given his current physical condition and rate of aging, he could at least live to 130, or even to the theoretical limit of human lifespan—150 years.
So, when extreme sports cease to provide thrills, what should he do next?
Head to the Middle Eastern battlefield, seeking real life-and-death experiences amidst hailing bullets?
Or do things that are impossible for ordinary people, like climbing Mount Everest unaided, diving into the Mariana Trench, or parachuting from outside the atmosphere...
Chen Zhou had no answer in his heart.
He thought, if life continued this way, someday he might engage in those insane acts, wagering everything he gained from those 28 years on the betting table.
Numerous times, he cursed the Space-Time Administration Bureau in the dead of night, resenting why they let him return, shackling him with an invisible chain.
Yet no matter how he reacted, the Space-Time Administration Bureau seemed truly vanished from this world.
Even that seemingly absurd post on the forum disappeared from the internet.
People often say the internet has a memory, but that post was an exception; it was the "amnesiac internet."
Chen Zhou didn’t know how many had joined in the challenge in the comments and whether any reached the isolated island of the 17th century like him, nor did he know if they returned successfully.
Sometimes, he desperately sought a peer, someone with whom he could share his secret.
But after more than two years of searching, all he found was disappointment—
Perhaps he truly was the lone oddball in this world, the only unique person amid the crowd.
...
Chen Zhou initially thought such a life would continue indefinitely, unexpectedly, at the beginning of 2029, Ivan, who had vanished, called again, requesting another meeting at the Mohe River.
It was April; the Mohe River, located north of the Greater Khingan Mountains was still in the grips of a long winter.
Global warming seemed unable to alter its cold.
Chen Zhou drove to the border of Mohe River, to a village facing the outer Baikal Territory, where the heavy snow had turned it into a white world.
In a tavern in the village full of Russian charm, Chen Zhou saw Ivan once more.
If the Ivan of two years ago seemed quite spirited, showing no signs of distress from hearing loss or organ failure, now he looked like he was on his last legs, about to be buried.
His hair, now a mix of black and white instead of fully white, lacked any gloss and appeared dry as a stick.
The once-rosy face was wrinkled; his eyes sunken and lifeless, and even his once-straight back bent like a bow.