Journey Through Dimensional Worlds

Chapter 13 Flesh and Blood

The day after gaining the new talent.

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the three people sleeping in each other's arms in a warm golden glow in the bedroom.

Chuixue nestled in He Quan's arms, her face flushed from sleep, while Long Juan had her back to him, a few strands of her long green hair falling into his arms.

He Quan woke up first. He didn't move, but just quietly looked at Chuixue's peaceful sleeping face in his arms and Longjuan's slender back rising and falling slightly with her breath.

His gaze fell on the fabric of Tornado's pajamas. He slowly raised his free hand, his fingertips lightly touching the fabric on Tornado's shoulder.

The moment he touched it, a thought flickered in his mind, and he activated his talent.

An extremely subtle, almost imperceptible energy fluctuation quietly emanated from his fingertips.

A small portion of his flesh and blood silently separated, transforming into active units even smaller than dust particles. These units, like a living stream, seeped into every fiber of his pajamas through the point of contact between his fingertips and the fabric.

Next comes substitution. This is not a crude covering or replacement, but a near-molecular-level assimilation and transformation process.

The flesh and blood he separated perfectly simulated and integrated the structure, elasticity, and texture of the original cotton fibers, silently transforming the small piece of clothing that Tornado was wearing into an extension of his own living flesh and blood.

In terms of appearance, there are no changes. The color, texture, and soft touch remain the same.

But in essence, the small piece of fabric on Long Juan's shoulder that was in close contact with her skin was no longer an inanimate object, but a part of He Quan's life.

Just then, Tornado stirred slightly in her sleep. She frowned slightly, then opened her sleepy eyes, subconsciously looked down at her shoulder, and then reached out to touch it.

"It's a bit...hot."

She mumbled something indistinctly, her voice hoarse from just waking up. She reached up and touched the fabric on her shoulder; it was still cotton, but the temperature was off. It felt like someone had been warming their palm there for a long time. She subconsciously tugged at the collar of her pajamas, as if trying to get some air.

He Quan's heart skipped a beat, but he feigned calmness and asked softly, "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

"have no idea."

Tornado shook her head, seemingly trying to dispel the strange feeling. She tugged at her hem, a hint of confusion on her face. "It feels... like the clothes are tighter? Or... thicker? I can't quite put my finger on it."

She raised her arm to look at her sleeve, then suspiciously twisted the fabric at her waist with her fingers.

The moment her fingers caressed the fabric, it was as if a channel had opened up on He Quan's taste buds, and a rich and unique aroma instantly flooded in.

It wasn't just the fragrance of shower gel, nor the subtle scent of laundry detergent, but rather the more essential aroma that belonged to the tornado itself.

The warmth of the girl's skin, mixed with the lingering freshness after her bath, and a faint yet undeniable, uniquely salty body fragrance, together created a warm, soft texture, like a freshly baked milk pudding.

He Quan's Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

Almost at the same time, Tornado's body suddenly stiffened!

She could clearly feel that her ordinary pajamas had suddenly become... different.

It wasn't a change in the physical properties of the material, but a strange feeling of it "coming alive"! The fabric that clung tightly to her skin seemed to have transformed into warm and soft invisible tentacles, carrying a moist warmth, gently caressing her skin.

This experience was beyond her comprehension, sending chills down her spine. She jerked her head to the side, her green eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at He Quan, who was clearly enjoying himself. Her voice trembled as she cried out, "You...you did this?!"

Seeing that he had been exposed, He Quan simply admitted it openly, a smug smile playing on his lips: "That's right! How does it feel?"

"Pervert! Stop it now!"

Tornado was both embarrassed and annoyed, her whole body turning pink. This feeling was so strange that she felt completely lost.

He Quan readily complied. With a thought, the "active flesh" covering the tornado's entire body instantly ceased all its unusual movements, returning to a state that completely mimicked ordinary clothing.

Yes, he was willing to endure such insults in order to become stronger.

More importantly, this close connection formed through their own flesh and blood, which was constant and ever-present, gave him an indescribable sense of security, as if he were protecting them firmly in his own world in this way.

As soon as the strange sensation disappeared, Tornado, filled with shame and anger, activated her telekinesis, wanting to throw that bastard He Quan out!

However, the invisible mental force pressed down on He's body, but it was like a mud ox sinking into the sea. He only swayed slightly, then sat down in place as if nothing had happened, and even winked at her.

After He Quan's dual attributes reached 9.9, Tornado's psychic power in its normal state became very difficult to control.

Unable to use telekinesis, Tornado, enraged, pounced on the tornado and unleashed a barrage of chaotic punches and kicks.

Unfortunately, her meager strength was like a gentle breeze against He Quan's current physical strength, barely even a tickle.

He Quan smiled and let her vent for a while, then suddenly reached out and cupped her puffed-up little face in his hands, forcing her to look directly at him.

The tornado struggled, but when it met He Quan's smiling, deep black eyes, its movements unconsciously slowed down.

He Quan gazed at her flushed cheeks and slightly moist eyes, then suddenly lowered his head and quickly kissed her cheek.

"next time."

He smiled and said in a coaxing tone, as if he were talking to a child, "I'll let you know in advance."

Tornado was stunned by the sudden kiss and the almost shameless declaration. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she abruptly turned her head away, her voice muffled but carrying a barely perceptible hint of panic: "...There won't be a next time!"

After calming the tornado, He Quan turned his gaze to the still-sleeping Fubuki.

He did the same thing, silently replacing Fubuki's pajamas and socks with his own flesh and blood.

When his consciousness touched Fubuki through their flesh and blood, he experienced a completely different "taste".

If the scent of Tornado is like a slightly tart, milky pudding, then the scent of Fubuki is more like a sweet, soft strawberry daifuku.

Delicate and sweet, warm and pure, it makes you want to take a bite.

Fubuki smacked her lips in her sleep, unconsciously wiggling her toes. She felt her socks become exceptionally soft and comfortable, as if she were enveloped in warm clouds. She let out a soft, comfortable hum and slept even more soundly.

Although the free attribute points have stopped increasing, He Quan felt that this kind of thing shouldn't be judged solely on the returns.

......

Time flows quietly like water.

In the blink of an eye, half a year has quietly passed.

In the past six months, He Quan's life has been relaxed and fulfilling.

He still uses gourmet tablecloths to conjure up high-end ingredients and sells them to established channels to maintain his comfortable lifestyle, but he enjoys the pleasure of cooking for himself even more.

He Quan, wearing an apron, cooks while Long Juan floats beside him, using telekinesis to precisely control the cleaver, cutting the ingredients into even shreds or chunks.

He Quan patiently taught her how to season the ingredients and how to control the heat. Because He Quan taught her so meticulously, although Long Juan would occasionally complain about the trouble, she learned very seriously.

The feeling of home grows stronger with the smoke from the daily meals.

He Quan's investments made with the initial capital he received have yielded good returns in the past six months, resulting in steady growth in his wealth.

He didn't pursue immense wealth; he simply ensured that the three of them could enjoy the best life without any pressure.

He also completely integrated the ability of [Flesh and Blood Transformation] into his daily life. All the furniture in the house—the sofa, the bed, the tables and chairs—every piece of clothing and every pair of shoes and socks that Tornado and Fubuki usually wore were silently replaced by his own flesh and blood.

These items, modeled after his flesh and blood, are far more comfortable than ordinary objects.

Sometimes he would make the sofa cushions where Tornado was sitting suddenly become exceptionally soft and bouncy, giving her a little surprise. Or he would make the socks that Fubuki was putting on suddenly mimic the feeling of a gentle massage, making the little one giggle.

Tornado went from initially protesting in embarrassment to gradually getting used to it, eventually only rolling her eyes and uttering a nonchalant "pervert," while Fubuki always thought it was just a fun game He Quan was playing with her.

Over the past six months, Tornado's superpowers have grown stronger with age, allowing him to resolve several significant crises and increasing his popularity among the people.

Fubuki's abilities have also improved slightly. Although still weak, she can now make a thick fairy tale book float steadily for a moment, which makes her happy for a long time.

One evening, He Quan was sitting on the sofa flipping through investment reports when Chuixue lay down next to him and drew pictures.

She drew for a long time, then held the paper up to him: "Look!"

The painting depicts three people standing in front of a large house. The house has many windows, and a light is lit in each one.

"This is our new home," Fubuki explained, pointing to the house in the drawing. "No matter where we move to in the future, it will always be this home. Because you and your sister will always be here."

He Quan took the painting, looked at it for a while, and then quietly tasted the snow.

Tornado happened to float over and handed her the painting. Tornado looked at the painting, remained silent for a few seconds, and then stuck it on the refrigerator door, next to the painting of the Ferris wheel.

It was another early morning, and sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, waking the room. He Quan and Long Juan woke up almost simultaneously.

The tornado floated up as usual, green fluorescent light enveloped the washbasin, two toothbrushes automatically dispensed toothpaste, two water glasses filled with warm water, and two towels flew over.

She skillfully brushed He Quan's teeth and washed his face, who was still a little dazed. As the toothbrush moved from side to side in his mouth, her fingers gently pressed on his chin, adjusting the angle for him.

Only then do you take care of yourself.

Although He Quan's physique is now spotless, he still enjoys Tornado's "superpowered washing service" every day.

There wasn't any particular reason; it was just because I liked the feeling of being taken care of and enjoyed watching her adorable expression as she intently controlled the toothbrush.

Everything seemed peaceful and beautiful, until...

【Ding! 】

A crisp, cold system notification sound rang out without warning deep within He Quan's mind.

[World intersection detected... Intrusion program initiated... Countdown: 71:59:59...]

[Please prepare for your transmigration, host...]

He Quan's hand, which was about to take the towel from Long Juan, suddenly froze in mid-air.

(End of this chapter)