Ch 201: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

The ticket seller looked down and printed the tickets, “1,500 Yor.”

Lu Yao was stunned.

This theater was right on the street corner, in a prime location, with a very impressive sign. Just a moment ago, she had wondered why no one else was there except the three of them. She had guessed it was just because it was a weekday and fewer people were around.

The real reason was probably that the price was outrageous.

She could almost feel the words “sucker” circling above her head.

Was this a scam?

Harold tugged on her sleeve, “Pay up.”

While she was in a daze, the tickets had already been printed. She glanced at the ticket seller, started rummaging for her wallet, and handed over the money, still a bit bewildered as she took the tickets.

Along with the tickets, they received three sleek, futuristic glasses. They weren’t the helmet-style she had imagined; they were lightweight with black frames and lenses, almost ordinary-looking, with barely any weight at all.

The ticket seller, clearly experienced with first-time visitors (or “suckers”), asked kindly, “First time here?”

Lu Yao nodded.

The seller leaned forward, pointing down the hall to the left. “There’s just the three of you, so go to Room 03. You’ll have a better experience there.”

Lu Yao’s unease grew. What kind of theater was this?

She raised the ticket, “Tickets?”

The seller’s lips curled into a slight, somewhat teasing, yet oddly wistful smile. “You’re our only guests today. I’ve decided to give you a special VIP service. Go on.”

Lu Yao: “…”

She was now sure she’d been scammed, but Harold and Lei Lei were thrilled.

Both were first-timers at the movies, and on the way over, they’d heard Lu Yao describe the immersive “holographic” experience, so their excitement was sky-high.

Given how hyped things were now, they were pretty much committed to this “sucker” role.

With a sigh, Lu Yao resigned herself to seeing it through.

The tickets were already bought, so they might as well go along with it. If it turned out wrong, they could always try finding the real Z-series cinema later.

Pushing open the door to Room 03, Lu Yao found the space larger than expected.

The whole room was like a giant silver cube. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all silver, with a scattering of single seats arranged comfortably. The armchairs were generously spaced, each with its own pillow and blanket, and a diamond-shaped glass table in front stocked with water and snacks.

The room’s design was far too cozy for a standard theater.

Lu Yao picked a seat at random. Harold and Lei Lei tried to squeeze in next to her, only to be rejected and directed back to their own seats.

After they were seated, a light screen appeared on the silver wall in front of them.

When the movie began, the background on the screen seemed to spill out into the room like paint, enveloping Lu Yao and the others in a cityscape resembling a steel jungle.

Towering buildings, trees that looked like the ones in Night Light City, cars honking on the roads, pedestrians chatting about online news…

Everything felt so close, every sound seemed right at their ears.

Lu Yao didn’t know how advanced a true Z-series cinema was, but this technology was already miles ahead of the 3D experience she knew. Sitting here felt genuinely immersive.

A young man in a white shirt and black slacks walked forward, listening as a younger colleague complained about their workload.

Both had been on the poster at the entrance. From the familiar storyline cues, she guessed that the guy in the white shirt was the protagonist, and the junior was likely his teammate.

It was a classic opening: the calm before the chaos, a peaceful moment that would later become the blade stabbing into both the protagonist’s heart and the audience’s.

However, Eden Sea’s geography and civilization were entirely different from the history Lu Yao knew, so she was eager to see how the impending disaster would unfold in ways unfamiliar to her.

In just a few minutes of daily scenes, Lu Yao felt thoroughly immersed in the protagonist’s life.

On this day, the man in the white shirt went about his morning routine as usual, washing up, eating breakfast, and catching a ride to the office.

Halfway there, the electric tram suddenly stopped, and alarm bells blared.

The disaster was about to strike.

Lu Yao clutched her pillow tightly, adjusting her position and bracing herself for the upcoming calamity.

A faint, unclear buzzing sound—“Zzz~Zzz~”—echoed around, which Lu Yao assumed was just part of the sound effects, so she didn’t think much of it.

But Harold and Lei Lei sensed something wrong. The two sprang from both sides, shielding Lu Yao.

With a loud “bang,” the screen shattered, and the scenery around them faded away like mist.

Sandwiched between the two, Lu Yao belatedly realized, “…Did it just break?”

What kind of luck was this? Talk about bad timing.

The emergency exit was pulled open from outside, and the lights came on, revealing the ticket seller standing in the doorway with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, there seems to be a malfunction. I’ll repair it right away.”

Turning awkwardly, Lu Yao asked, “How long will that take?”

The repairman, carrying a yellow toolbox and dressed in what appeared to be a professional jumpsuit, stepped inside. “Please wait just a bit—half an hour at most.”

The three stared as he approached the shattered screen, crouched down, and, from an invisible gap in the floor, pulled out a panel and opened his toolbox, beginning the repair.

A few minutes passed, and Lei Lei quietly reached out, grabbing the snacks on Lu Yao’s table.

The spot by his seat was already littered with empty wrappers and drink bottles.

Harold leaned on Lu Yao’s armrest, growing impatient. “Why so slow? Are you even capable?”

The repairman responded calmly, “Apologies, I’m still troubleshooting.”

Lu Yao, feeling defeated, couldn’t help but ask, “Is this really a ‘Z-series cinema’? Are we in the wrong place?”

The repairman, with a head of shiny black curls that bounced like springs as he worked, seemed entirely focused, as if he hadn’t heard her.

Increasingly unsure, Lu Yao stood, ready to suggest they just call it a day. The mood was gone.

Then, the repairman spoke, “No mistake; this is indeed a ‘Z-series cinema,’ the very last one in all of Night Light City.”

So he had heard her after all.

But what did he mean by “the last Z-series cinema”?

The repairman slowly put down his tools, stood up, and sighed. “Apologies, but this machine is beyond repair. You don’t seem too keen on Z-series films anyway. Come on, I’ll refund your tickets.”

Ignoring the awkwardness, Lu Yao grabbed his arm. “I heard ‘Z-series cinema’ uses an amazing technology. How is it possible there’s only one left?”

The repairman’s expression turned dark and his voice rough, as if overcome with a mixture of emotions. “Because the core technology has been lost.”

!!!

How could that be?

The repairman continued, “Z-series technology was a perfect fusion of magic and science. If research had continued, we would have surely seen new breakthroughs, reaping even greater rewards. But in the past thirty years, the age of magic has quickly faded. Talented individuals have dwindled, and even history connected to magic has vanished. Z-series technology, a ‘child’ born from the union of magic and science, was like a premature infant. Its development was incomplete. We conducted numerous studies in an attempt to preserve it, but ultimately, all we could manage was the single application of ‘Z-series cinema,’ and even that was barely functional.”

When Z-series cinema first debuted, it caused a huge sensation.

Mainstream media ran articles everywhere, predicting a bright future for the application of Z-series technology in media. Consumers flocked to experience the unparalleled sensory journey provided by Z-series cinemas.

But soon, people realized Z-series cinemas had serious safety risks, with frequent accidents that were never fully resolved.

At this point, the legend of the “Z-series cinema” was still unfolding.

That is, until the “0725” incident, when a magic stabilizer exploded in a Z-series cinema in the same city, causing massive casualties. The popularity of the Z-series cinema began to fade, leading it toward decline.

But the true story behind the “Z-series technology” was never revealed to the public, who simply assumed the Z-series cinema was a failed experiment. In reality, they had never truly tamed “Z-series technology” from the beginning.

Its emergence seemed more like an accident—or even a mistake.

Everything that followed seemed like an effort to correct that mistake, which was why all data on the Z-series and magic disappeared.

The repairman, as though holding it in for too long, opened up and shared a lot of internal secrets that would usually require “payment” to hear.

Lu Yao leaned over to Lei Lei and whispered, “Do you know why magic started to disappear?”

Lei Lei nodded and quietly explained to her.

The decline in the goddess’s divine power had a profound effect on the world. Or rather, the entire world’s faith weighed heavily on the gods’ shoulders, burdening them too much.

After spilling everything, the repairman returned to his usual demeanor, even colder than before, and urged them, “Time to go.”

Lu Yao felt the black pearl on her wrist but didn’t move, instead asking, “You said that machine is unfixable. What’s the issue?”

The repairman looked over, his expression hard to read. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

At some point, Harold had moved to the area the repairman had just worked on and punched down, easily opening a hole.

The repairman’s face turned pale with alarm as he rushed over. “What are you doing? Don’t touch that—it’s dangerous.”

Lei Lei crawled over, climbed onto Harold’s back, leaned down to look, and then called out to Lu Yao like he’d found treasure: “Lu Yao, Lu Yao, the magic array on this big box has failed, so it can’t be used anymore.”

Lu Yao covered her face. “…”

What a little troublemaker.

But the repairman froze, staring at Lei Lei. “You can read magic arrays?”

Lei Lei, with an innocent expression, replied, “Of course we can. But Lu Yao’s the best—she’s our mother’s other half.”

Other half—a term for the goddess’s chosen representative.

Lu Yao quickly turned away from the repairman’s face and asked Lei Lei, “Can you fix it?”

The repairman, still in a daze, seemed to be processing everything very slowly.

Half… other half… The term felt familiar, and the name “Lu Yao” sounded a bit familiar too.

Meanwhile, Lei Lei nodded and replied slowly, “But this magic array is so outdated. We stopped using this long ago. Why not swap it out for a newer one?”

Mother… other half…

The repairman’s eyes widened as he looked up.

Mother’s other half, Lu Yao.

It was actually her.

At the same moment, Lu Yao squatted down to examine the machine. Several magic arrays were indeed engraved on the white casing.

Lu Yao hesitated. “Are you sure replacing this one array won’t mess up the other parts?”

In these kinds of interconnected magic arrays, each part had a specific function and sequence, so updating one part might not solve the issue entirely.

Lei Lei raised his hand with determination. “Then let’s just replace the whole set!”

The repairman, who had been about to come closer, was so startled that his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees.

Lu Yao quickly stepped aside and said, “Oh, come on, there’s no need for that. No need to be so formal.”

The repairman stammered, clearly flustered. “…1041.”

Lu Yao looked at him, confused. “What?”

1041 replied, “My name.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️