Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Stone Egg Is Gone!

The fat man knew that at this moment, he had no right to speak. After Zhou Yi finished speaking, he quickly looked at Sophia. Sophia nodded, agreeing with Zhou Yi's arrangement.

“All right, we’ll keep an eye on Cheng Zhi. If there’s a hunter nearby, we’ll let you know immediately. As I said before, my abilities are limited in this world, so you must all be careful. I cannot guarantee I’ll always be there. Take this—when you reach her home, wave it under her nose and she’ll wake up.”

Zhou Yi understood what she meant. In the world of 2015, he had seen Sophia appear in front of the hospital morgue in an instant, then vanish with his duplicate. That must be the ability Sophia spoke of.

He took the bottle Sophia handed him and gestured to the fat man.

“Alright, I’ll be careful. Fatty, carry her. Let’s go.”

Fatty pursed his lips, dissatisfied, but seeing Zhou Yi’s hand, he kept silent. Zhou Yi had risked his life to save him just now—this wasn’t the time for petty complaints.

The three of them left and got into the car. No words were wasted along the way; they drove straight toward Cheng Zhi’s residential complex. When they arrived, the two got out, and Zhou Yi led the way.

But he didn’t escort Meng Xiaojiao home. Instead, he wandered the streets for a while, saw no sign of anyone following him, then returned again to the hospital morgue. Despite its gloomy, cold atmosphere, it was a place that offered isolation.

Zhou Yi didn’t carry Meng Xiaojiao off the car. He got out alone, locked the vehicle, and entered the third room.

He pulled out the stone, placed it on the platform, and slowly unwrapped the cloth around it. Sophia hadn’t noticed it earlier—did this mean the stone no longer held any spiritual energy or power?

He didn’t understand, but the stone’s previous allure was unmistakable. Cheng Zhi had gone to the geology department, likely for this very stone. But what did it mean now? Had it become dormant?

Zhou Yi handled it gently, gazing at the dark, egg-shaped stone, anxiety simmering in his heart.

He knew the hunters sought this spirit stone, and that it could help Cheng Zhi somehow—but no one had told him how to use it. Should he bow to it? Perform some ritual to claim it? Or crush it and swallow the fragments?

Confused, Zhou Yi considered smashing it open with another stone. Squatting for too long, his legs grew numb, and suddenly he lost balance, tilting to one side.

Everything happened in an instant. Almost by instinct, Zhou Yi pressed down on the stone egg. The wound on his hand, which had stopped bleeding, burst open, and blood flowed directly onto the stone.

A dazzling light erupted from within.

Zhou Yi felt an intense heat in his palm and tried to fling the stone away, but it remained stubbornly attached, despite his attempts. Blood poured from his hand, no longer mere drops, but a steady stream, all being absorbed by the light.

Panic overtook him—at this rate, in ten minutes, he’d be drained dry. Yet the stone seemed glued to his hand, impossible to shake free.

He spun in circles, desperate. The burning sensation escalated, sweat soaking his body. He wanted to scream but no sound emerged. After what felt like ages, he finally managed to rise and, with all his strength, smashed his hand holding the stone against the stainless steel door.

Once, twice, on the third strike, the brilliant light vanished instantly, along with the heat, as if they had never existed.

Turning his palm over, Zhou Yi saw the stone was gone. The wound had disappeared without a trace, his hand uninjured. He was stunned.

He searched himself, top to bottom—the stone egg was nowhere to be found, neither on the floor nor in the corners of the room. Had it been smashed to pieces?

He glanced at the stainless steel door, now completely deformed, dented as though struck by a sledgehammer.

Zhou Yi blinked. He was hardly what one would call strong—had the stone transformed him? Or had his desperation triggered some hidden potential? Or perhaps, when he smashed the door, the stone entered his body?

His mind was a jumble; he forced himself to calm down.

The stone was indeed a spirit stone—that much was certain.

But how to use it, nobody knew. He’d had a wound when he touched it, and perhaps his blood had activated the stone’s power, which was then absorbed by him. That seemed the only explanation.

Sophia had mentioned that accumulating energy and upgrading, or obtaining a spirit stone, would grant a Chosen various abilities.

Like a world of magic, perhaps elements could be combined or one’s constitution improved. If so, maybe his body had been transformed?

Zhou Yi sighed quietly; this ability seemed rather useless. He had no desire to become some sort of tyrant. If he could alter the state of matter or manipulate elements, that would be much more impressive and intimidating. What good was mere strength?

He turned to leave, but as he grabbed the door handle, he heard footsteps approaching, growing louder. Zhou Yi closed his eyes for a moment—the sound came from the left, accompanied by the squeak of a stainless steel cart, one wheel apparently faulty.

Someone muttered to himself as he walked.

“Three tonight already. Why does it never end? Oh, I forgot my keys—getting more forgetful with age. Never mind, I’ll leave this one in room three for now. The cold won’t matter.”

The footsteps drew nearer, and as the cart bumped against Zhou Yi’s door, Zhou Yi squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to harm anyone innocent, but if someone entered, he’d have to knock him out—he couldn’t help thinking.

Go back, get your keys, leave! Leave!

Don’t enter room three!

Zhou Yi was tense, fists clenched, brows furrowed. His newfound strength was not something he wanted to use; it would be best to leave quietly.

Just then, he heard a sigh from outside.

“Ah, old fool. Forgot the keys. Don’t mind me, old friend, I’ll go get them. Wait here for a bit, alright? Don’t worry, I’ll see you settled.”

With that, shuffling footsteps retreated hastily, much faster than they had arrived.

Now, Zhou Yi was stunned, blinking and listening carefully. The sounds outside faded; even the distant noise was far away.

Wasn’t the old man about to enter? Why had he turned back? Had he sensed Zhou Yi’s thoughts?

He shook his head—there was no time to dwell on it. He needed to leave immediately.

Opening the door, Zhou Yi peered out; no one was around, no sound. He quickly closed the door and hurried toward the parking spot.

Before getting in, he glanced at Meng Xiaojiao in the passenger seat. She was still unconscious.

Checking the time, it was nearly midnight. Zhou Yi started the car and drove toward Meng Xiaojiao’s home.

At the gates of the military compound, Zhou Yi found a needle and pricked her fingertip. Meng Xiaojiao shuddered, then slowly woke.

She looked at Zhou Yi in confusion, glanced around, and quickly sat upright.

“Teacher Xing, why am I in your car?”

Zhou Yi paused. The question sounded odd—did she think he’d done something to her? He lowered his gaze, hesitated, then replied:

“You went for a checkup, then talked with Captain He for a long time. It was late, so I decided to drive you home. Do you want me to inform your parents?”

Meng Xiaojiao startled, waving her hands and hastily opening the car door.

“No need, thank you, Teacher Xing. I must have been half asleep. I’ll head home now. Please don’t mention the police station to my parents—it’ll only make them worry. Goodbye, teacher!”

With that, she jumped out and ran toward the compound, straightening her clothes as she went. Zhou Yi parked the car in a dark spot, turned off the engine, and quietly watched Meng Xiaojiao’s house.

He had told Sophia they’d keep watch here, but really, it was just a pretext—the girl was already a new duplicate; there was no point in searching.

He waited about half an hour. Nothing happened in Meng Xiaojiao’s room. Zhou Yi gripped the car keys, preparing to leave.

Just then, a shadow flashed, leaping directly onto Meng Xiaojiao’s window, opened it, and jumped inside.

Zhou Yi was stunned. Was this another hunter?