I was completely stunned.

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

  “What part didn’t you understand?” Alice asked.

  “Hold on, hold on…” I raised both hands in a pausing gesture.

  Let me be clear: I consider myself pretty open-minded. I’d already mentally prepared to accept whatever outrageous identity or origin story she threw at me—at least provisionally, without immediate dismissal.

  Even if she claimed she’d uncovered some ultra-secret national or corporate conspiracy and was now being hunted by countless assassins; or if she said she was an escaped lab-created psychic from some shadowy research facility, just like in certain fantasy stories—I could still try approaching it from a place of belief.

  But time travel, the end of civilization, the apocalypse?

  Wasn’t the scale jumping way too far, way too fast? I thought I’d picked up an urban mystery or crime thriller script, not the screenplay for a big-budget sci-fi disaster blockbuster… Next thing you know, some terrifying antagonist robot from the future would show up to hunt her down or assassinate a key figure in this era.

  Besides, as a time traveler, shouldn’t she be keeping her secrets close and milking priceless future knowledge for maximum personal gain? Or was I just overthinking it because I’d read too many web novels? Maybe someone who actually came from an apocalyptic world wouldn’t immediately jump to that kind of scheming mindset.

  Fine. I’d let her keep talking. Even if she was just spinning a yarn to mess with me, at least make it entertaining enough to listen to—like sitting down for a good storyteller session. As for today’s classes, I could just text the school an excuse later. Lectures happen every day; a conversation this surreal was once-in-a-lifetime.

  “When exactly did you cross over?” I asked first.

  “If I only slept one night, then yesterday,” she answered without hesitation. It didn’t sound improvised.

  “You mentioned ‘the apocalypse’ earlier. What kind exactly?” I pressed. “A virus that turns people into walking corpses spreading worldwide? An asteroid slamming into Earth? Nuclear war finally breaking out?”

  She clearly picked up on my skepticism but chose to push forward anyway.

  Compared to her earlier ambush while pretending to sleep, her attitude had noticeably softened for some reason.

  “I don’t know what triggered the end, or how much resistance human civilization managed to put up… I was born into an already ruined world. For a long time, I even thought that was just how the world had always been…” A brief, genuine wave of nostalgia crossed her face before she tucked it away and continued patiently. “The biggest difference between this world and the apocalyptic one is spacetime itself. In the end times, time and space are warped—survivors can encounter bizarre, inexplicable phenomena at any moment.

  “On top of that, there are vast numbers of powerful monsters roaming around. Even with Blessed Monks among humanity, we still couldn’t reclaim lost ground, let alone revive civilization. We just kept declining, step by step, and the ways people survived grew more and more twisted in the process.”

  So it wasn’t sci-fi disaster—it was more like dark fantasy wasteland… As I listened, one word jumped out and refused to be ignored.

  “‘Blessed Monks’—what are those?”

  “In the language of this era… probably ‘superpowered individuals’?” she said uncertainly.

  “So this era has superpowered people too?”

  “Apparently, yes… I’ve heard there are some. But unlike in the apocalyptic age, they don’t seem to have much public presence here.”

  “Maybe there are just very few of them now, and their numbers exploded later due to some factor?” My mind immediately went to a bunch of common apocalypse-novel tropes.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “No… I can’t say for sure about the numbers, but I’ve heard they have an extremely large organization in this era…” She was clearly stepping into unfamiliar territory now; her previously fluent answers slowed and grew hesitant. “As for why they keep such a low profile, I don’t know… Maybe there are taboos or rules in place. When I first arrived yesterday, I tried asking around for information about them but couldn’t find anything right away.”

  Of course she couldn’t. I’d visited countless famous mountains and scenic spots hunting for immortals and spirits, tested plenty of fake fortune-tellers and feng-shui masters, and chased down god-knows-how-many circulating urban legends—only to come up empty every single time.

  Did a massive superpowered organization really exist in this era? Even with taboos and rules, you’d think I’d have stumbled across at least one solid hint by accident.

  Was she just lying to me after all?

  I swallowed the doubt and noticed the conversation had veered off track, so I steered it back.

  “If you’re a time traveler, how did you cross over to this era?”

  “You’ve misunderstood… It wasn’t something I did on purpose. I don’t even know why I ended up here. The last thing I remember from that era was trying desperately to escape the grasp of a Great Demon with my friend…” A shadow of sorrow crossed her face. “But the power gap between us and the demon was too vast. No matter where we ran, it would catch up. In one final act of desperation, I tried using spatial transfer to take my friend with me—and somehow, I was the only one who ended up in this era. My friend… disappeared. It must all be because of me…”

  “—Hm?” I caught the key detail. “You? Power gap? Spatial transfer?”

  “Right… I forgot to mention.” She pointed to her own chest. “I’m one of those Blessed Monks.”

  “So you have superpowers too?”

  “Yes.”

  “To be honest, everything you just said—I can’t believe a single word of it. Suddenly talking about an apocalyptic era feels completely over-the-top.” I laid it out plainly.

  “I figured as much,” she nodded, unsurprised.

  “But if you actually have superpowers, then we can talk.” I stared at her intently. “Show me at least one demonstration right here, right now. If you do, I’ll believe everything you say. I’ll trust you completely.”

  I meant it.

  Yet she fell silent, clearly hesitating over whether to answer honestly.

  After a moment, she replied with difficulty: “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “When I was escaping the Great Demon, my soul was scorched. After arriving in this era, I forced myself to use my Blessing—my superpower—and that only made the damage worse.” She gritted her teeth. “While you were talking to the police earlier, I already tried using my power in this room. Nothing happened.”

  Admitting her weakness in front of me clearly stung her pride.

  “If that’s the case, I can’t trust you…” I said. “And more importantly—why are you telling something this huge to a total outsider like me?”

  At first she’d been all thorns—domineering, threatening, keeping me at arm’s length.

  Now, though she still maintained obvious wariness and distance, she was willing to talk at length, answering every question with surprising earnestness, almost as if she had no filter.

  I couldn’t figure out what shift had happened in her mind. Was it because I’d covered for her in front of the police? Or had my earlier “good guy” act and lines actually been that convincing—enough to touch even her cold, suspicious heart?

  She answered my question again.

  “It’s not that complicated. I still don’t know why I was sent to this era, but I’ve thought it through. If my crossing here has any real meaning, maybe it’s so I can prevent the apocalypse from ever happening in this time.” She looked at me seriously. “I have to warn as many people as possible about the coming end. You’re just the first one I’m testing. I wanted to see how someone ‘living before the end’ would react to my prophecy—so I can figure out how to convince others later.”

  “Well, you’ve got your result now. If you showed superpowers, most people would believe at least half of what you say. Too bad you can’t.” I gave her a small jab.

  “Hmph…” Her expression soured instantly as she shot back, “Say whatever you want. I’ve already bothered you enough. I’m leaving now—I don’t have time to keep—”

  As she spoke, she pushed herself up from her knees to stand, but her body suddenly went limp and she collapsed.

  It looked exactly like someone with low blood pressure or low blood sugar standing up too fast after squatting—dizziness, blacking out. Hers was even worse. I rushed forward and caught her soft, petite frame before she hit the floor. She’d already passed out again.

  What a troublesome girl.

  I laid her flat on the bed, then sat down at the desk, gazing at her youthful, adorable sleeping face while turning over everything she’d told me about the apocalypse.

  The end of days, time travel, Blessed Monks, superpowers…

  To me, Alice didn’t fit the stereotype of the “cold-blooded, ruthless, selfish apocalypse survivor” at all. At most she was a highly skilled, eccentric, mysterious beauty. The ideas of “the apocalypse coming” and “time travel” still sounded like pure fantasy—I couldn’t accept them as real just yet.

  But superpowers existing in reality?

  That, I believed.

  Words from a friend echoed in my mind.

  —If you’ve never actually seen genuine supernatural power, why do you keep chasing ghost stories and legends?

  —You need some kind of positive feedback… some evidence or clue to keep going. Isn’t that the logic?

  Yes. I did have some.

  I had clues and evidence that supernatural power truly existed.

  Because I myself was proof.

  I was a superpowered individual.