A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 231 CST Tuesday UTC+8: 7 PM
"Oh, bow to the sky! Don't be pessimistic! Heaven has its own plans!"

Quinn abandoned the map, turned on the stereo, and the surging drumbeats of Manhattan filled the car. Listening to Andy Lau's "Stupid Kid," the parrot from another world bobbed its head on the heated back seat, almost as if it wanted to exclaim, "This is real music!"

“Quinn, I admit your music is better than Tamulan’s.” She stared at the speaker grille on the car door, utterly bewildered, and asked, “There’s clearly no mana. How does it make a sound? Is there a fairy hiding inside?”

"If only I were half as optimistic as you." Quinn slammed on the brakes, looking at the bridge that had appeared in front of him for the fourth time. He sighed, "The only good news right now is that the stereo isn't playing any Irish folk songs."

The sky was already tinged with a mesmerizing sunset, and by evening, Quinn had almost run out of gas but still hadn't managed to leave the city.

Maps might be wrong, but memory wouldn't. Quinn was absolutely certain he was following the road signs and hadn't backtracked at all—Beibu Gulf City stood on a cape in southwestern Guangxi Province; to get to the provincial capital by national highway, he simply drove in the opposite direction from the sea. Quinn had clearly seen the road sign for "120 kilometers from Nanning," but as he drove, the sea, the port, and the city appeared before him again.

He took two different routes, even abandoning the national highway, and drove into the countryside on the outskirts of the city. His sense of direction and distance were correct, but every time he was about to leave the Beibu Gulf completely, the bridge connecting the port area to the mainland and the city would reappear at the end of his sight.

Quinn stared intently at the vehicles leaving the city along the highway at dusk, some coming in, some leaving, some coming out, local cars and out-of-town cars. It was as if no one realized that the city was a Möbius strip-like maze from which there was no way out.

It was as if only he and the little parrot in the car were trapped here.

"I know why I couldn't get through on the phone."

Quinn leaned back in the driver's seat and said weakly, "The fourth level of the Abyss is a replica of a small fragment of my hometown. Whether it's the space, the time, or the people living in it, it's all part of that fragment. We can't leave the area of ​​Beibu Gulf City."

"What should we do then?" Ningning the parrot chewed on dry instant noodles, making a crunching sound. This was so delicious!

“Quickly use your invincible divination to think of a solution!” Quinn gestured. “Isn’t that how fantasy stories are all—adventurers get trapped in the labyrinth of a dungeon, and then are guided out by divination.”

“The dungeon is easy to handle, but this is the Abyss! First-order arcane magic is just as difficult as third-order magic outside.” Amamiya Nene shook her wings, brushing off the crumbs of instant noodles, and said helplessly, “Right now I’m just a parrot, and I can’t do anything except imitate your breath. If I still had my wand and other items, I might be able to think of a way. But now I can only rely on you.”

"How come you're not nervous at all?" Quinn thought to himself, you're as relaxed as if you were lying in that executive chair in the college office.

Why be nervous?

The parrot said nonchalantly, "Do you know why I insist you come down into the abyss with me?"

“Because my life is worthless,” Quinn lamented.

"No, because you're the hero!" Amamiya Nene spoke the consensus of all humanity in Taimuran: "No matter how thrilling the adventures, heroes always emerge unscathed! I'll just hang on to you for a bit, with you and me, let's go!"

Quinn's face fell after hearing this. It was the most costly episode to impersonate a hero; he was matched with the Magical Cat in the Abyss promotion race.

He sat in the chair and thought for a full five minutes before starting the vehicle again.

This time, instead of heading out of the city, we drove back towards the hotel.

"You've come up with a solution?" Amamiya Nene felt she had a keen eye for talent, having recruited a capable teaching assistant.

"There's no way."

A fierce glint flashed in Quinn's eyes. "If we can't find a solution, we'll have to find someone who can."

"Ask a transcendent being from the Abyss for directions?" Amamiya Nene gave a mischievous laugh. "This is starting to feel more and more like a hero's adventure story."

Beibu Gulf City welcomed a new day in peace and tranquility.

on Tuesday.

At 7 PM, in the largest private room on the third floor of the Peach Blossom Lake Hotel in the port area, a vibrant scene of life unfolded. "Brother, brother—hey, Brother Zhang Rui, I say you have a brilliant idea!"

The director of the Beibu Gulf City Bureau, with his arm around Quinn, each with a glass of wine, drank until their necks were flushed. Quinn said, "The more I think about it, the more I agree. Your theory of internet development is so inspiring, it makes me want to quit my job and start my own business."

Those around him chimed in. The police station chief, who wasn't on duty tonight, and several high-ranking officials from the municipal bureau had all come. Xiao Liu had even drunk himself under the table. These days, there aren't so many rules; cigarettes and alcohol are all served.

At that time, Beibu Gulf City was still a county-level city, and everyone was eager to build a relationship with the junior leader from Jianghai. That's how officialdom is. Although Quinn's position might not be higher than theirs, his future prospects were much better than everyone present. Since they had nothing to do after get off work in the evening, they might as well make some good connections.

The city bureau chief sat in the main seat, with Quinn on one side and Lan Na Niu on the other. This Zhuang brother was really good at drinking; he downed five cups of baijiu, and his dark face didn't even change color much.

"No wonder you're from a big city like Jianghai, you have great taste—" He gave a thumbs up: "I feel like you have a bright future ahead of you."

"Then I'll lend you some good advice."

Quinn clinked glasses around and around, his expression sincere and heartfelt: "No matter where I go, I can't do without everyone's support and help—I'm making this clear from now on! Come on!"

He waved his hand near his ear, making a phone receiver shape with his thumb and pinky: "Call me, okay? Come on! No matter where you are, as long as I'm here—there'll be food and drinks!"

Everyone raised their glasses, and the bureau chief said with a smile, "You can't come out during working hours," followed by even louder laughter.

Quinn was quite adept at these kinds of drinking parties; he'd seen it all before and had even been groomed as a potential son-in-law for a year. He knew exactly how to create a lively atmosphere, how to be considerate of everyone, how to be genuinely sincere and unpretentious, and how to understand the needs of each person at the table.
He glanced subtly at a man diagonally opposite him at the round table.

He was the only one still wearing his police uniform at the entire dinner, forcing a smile from time to time alongside the others, looking out of place and barely managing to keep up.

He was the leader in charge of security in the port area. Because he frequently dealt with business owners and entrepreneurs and held real power in this field, it was a so-called "lucrative position." In 1999, when discipline was not so strict, only those who were adept at interpersonal relationships could hold this position.

Logically speaking, he should be one of the most eloquent people at the table, and he should be trying to curry favor with Quinn. Why would he be so impatient and silent?

After a few rounds of drinks, Quinn started toasting and whispering to everyone, consciously controlling his alcohol intake. By the time it was his turn, he appeared to be completely out of it.

That leader was the policeman who tried to buy Amamiya Nene from the market.

"Brother... hiccup... brother," Quinn called everyone he met "brother" after drinking too much, and now he was leaning against him, his breath reeking of alcohol: "Why haven't I heard you talk much? In a bad mood, hiccup?"

The policeman forced a smile: "A Mercedes worth over a million yuan was stolen yesterday, and it still hasn't been found. It's a real worry."

Quinn thought to himself that he was indeed in a bad mood.

Since that's the case, let's make it even worse.

"Hey, he drives a Mercedes. The big boss doesn't care about that."

Quinn froze as if completely drunk, his throat moving, looking uncomfortable with words stuck in his throat.

The policeman had just realized something was wrong and tried to get up to leave when Quinn opened his mouth—

Hmph, trying to escape? Lightning Whirlwind Oozes—

A mixture of vomit, including alcohol, dinner, sashimi, and a black feather, sprayed all over the person.

(End of this chapter)