"I really do seem to have transmigrated."
A thought suddenly sprang up in Qin An's mind.
The earliest fragment of that blurry memory showed that he seemed to have transmigrated once, yet had inexplicably forgotten it himself.
And now this segment of memory appeared again along with that voice, making a bizarre and absurd idea surface in Qin An's heart.
He had transmigrated, but then he transmigrated back.
However, this way of coming back didn't seem to be the way he wanted.
Everything was fake.
The instant this thought surfaced, Qin An reacted at once.
He felt his hand gripping Cold Star grow tighter and tighter, veins bulging on the back of his hand, as two emotions inside his heart struggled and writhed.
"Isn't this the result you wanted?" one of the voices said. "What you dream of is to leave that dangerous and terrifying place and return to a safe world."
