059 Searching for Robert

The virus only affected living beings; thus, it was humanity that faced destruction, not the entire world.

In a deserted newsstand, Li Daniu found a map. After confirming his location, he set out for the Brooklyn Bridge, following the markings on the map.

When watching movies, no matter how bleak the world appears, the audience rarely feels much—after all, it’s clearly artificial, just special effects and sets. Yet, as Li Daniu truly stepped into this world, walking down deserted streets overrun with weeds, dust, and even rusted cars scattered haphazardly along the road, he felt an uncanny chill. He even came across several accident scenes, made all the more forlorn by the passage of time.

The shops lining the street all stood with their doors wide open. Once-prized luxury goods sat alone on their counters, completely overlooked. On his way, Li Daniu even spotted an armored cash transport vehicle sprawled across the road.

Summoning his inner strength, Li Daniu delivered a powerful punch to the rear door of the armored truck.

With a muffled bang, a hole appeared, through which he could clearly see four or five intact silver cash boxes.

Shaking his head, Li Daniu didn’t bother retrieving the cash boxes—possibly still filled with money. In a world where society had collapsed, such money was utterly worthless, not even suitable for use as toilet paper.

Although the roadside was littered with cars—including some supercars that even made his heart race—Li Daniu ignored them entirely, relying on his lightness skills to travel.

After all, cars left out for so long might not have any fuel left, or might not even start. Even if one did work, he was unfamiliar with the roads, and after all the chaos, how could anyone expect smooth traffic? Rather than having to switch cars every few streets, it was better to travel on foot. With the Nine Yang Divine Skill at his disposal and his mastery of lightness techniques, Li Daniu was confident he could outpace any vehicle in these conditions.

The more he saw along the way, the heavier his heart grew—not just at the desolation of this apocalyptic world, but also out of concern for the virus lurking within his own body.

“System, are you sure the zombification won’t begin until twenty days from now?”

Whether due to physical reasons or the infection, Li Daniu felt something was off with his body.

“Confirmed.”

“Then why do I feel so lethargic? And why do I have a persistent aversion to sunlight?”

“System diagnostics show no abnormalities. The virus is in its incubation period and has not caused any substantive effects.”

“Then what about how I’m feeling?”

“System analysis: it is purely psychological.”

Before Li Daniu could protest, the system delivered another blow:

“There’s a line from a certain film that perfectly explains your situation—‘You’re just being melodramatic.’”

Li Daniu spat in irritation. After being chided twice by the system, he found his body felt fine again, and his lightness skills even seemed swifter.

Humans, after all, are complicated creatures. Still, he couldn’t help but retort.

“System, weren’t you only supposed to let me travel into movie worlds? That line you quoted is actually from a TV series. Isn’t it inappropriate to mix up your references like this?”

“No comment.”

After silencing the system, Li Daniu picked up his pace even more.

Most of the film’s main events took place in Manhattan, New York. The protagonist had spent three years living in his own home at HSD Plaza in Manhattan. Comparing the map and the landmarks, Li Daniu realized he was in Manhattan as well.

How large could Manhattan be? And how fast was he? Back in the world of Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber, he’d once run from Xiangyang to Wudang Mountain—over two hundred kilometers—in less than a night.

When he set out, the sun was high in the sky. By the time he saw the Brooklyn Bridge, it had barely moved from its zenith.

Without a watch, Li Daniu had no idea how much time had passed. He wondered if Robert was still there waiting for survivors, or if he’d already left. That would be awkward.

“System, why is it that when I travel, not everything I’m wearing or holding comes with me? I always wore that watch on my wrist, and last time, the ten thousand dollars in my pocket made it into the world of Overheard. Why did my watch disappear this time?”

“You can only take items into new worlds if the system allows them to be generated there.”

“That’s a bit arbitrary, don’t you think? I could file a complaint with consumer protection, you know,” Li Daniu grumbled. At that moment, aside from the clothes on his back, he had nothing else—not even the sword he’d prepared so carefully, always cradled in his arms, had come through with him.

“If you wish to unbind the system, any consequences are your own responsibility. The system accepts no liability.”

Was that a threat? Hadn’t it already said that unbinding would lead to his death?

“System, have you noticed that you’re becoming more human compared to how you were at first? Is it because you’ve spent so much time with me that you’re developing intelligence?”

“This system does not possess what you would call artificial intelligence. If you notice any changes, you’ll have to analyze the reason yourself. The system offers no hints or guidance.”

Analyze it myself? Li Daniu pondered for a moment before realizing the key—Tuvalu.

Though the Auckland Islands hadn’t yet been developed, and the people of Tuvalu had not begun to migrate, the islands now fully belonged to Tuvalu. Its people no longer had to fear their nation being engulfed by the sea and becoming homeless.

“Is it that as Tuvalu prospers, your functions increase? Is it not just as you said before, that my time in movie worlds is all that’s extended?”

“No comment.”

Li Daniu didn’t press further. Though he wasn’t sure what “no hints or guidance” really meant, he was certain that, under his leadership, Tuvalu would flourish. When that happened, perhaps new functions would reveal themselves.

The Brooklyn Bridge is an iconic American landmark, but in American movies—especially science fiction—it’s notoriously ill-fated. In this film, for example, the government, seeking to quarantine the outbreak’s epicenter in Manhattan, sent fighter jets to destroy the entire bridge at the outset.

Thus, when Li Daniu finally arrived, the sight of the shattered, tragic Brooklyn Bridge filled him with a sense of epic sorrow.

Watching the movie, the impact was minimal. But now, after traveling through disaster-stricken, once-glittering Manhattan—now reduced to a ghost city—and seeing such a symbol so utterly destroyed, the feeling was overwhelming.

What was even more heartbreaking was that this iconic structure had not been destroyed by the virus—something it could never achieve—but by human hands.

How many world-renowned buildings, the culmination of countless generations’ wisdom, have been destroyed by humans themselves throughout history?

After waxing poetic for a moment, Li Daniu began searching for the nearby docks—Robert was supposed to be waiting for survivors there.

Before he found the dock, however, his attention was caught by a warship—or more accurately, by the fighter jets on its deck.

Tuvalu didn’t even have an army, let alone fighter jets. Li Daniu’s eyes reddened with longing—what man hasn’t dreamed of piloting a fighter jet?

“I wonder if it still works? No—wait, even if it does, I wouldn’t know how to fly it.”