HI3: Starting from the Previous Civilization

[General POV]

Fan wore a mysterious smile as he brought out a set of soul-summoning equipment. Nobody questioned where he got that massive contraption; in their eyes, they had pledged unwavering loyalty—after all, their leader had shown them the future, so a bit of "spatial magic" was trivial by comparison.

They began assembling the device in the underground base. Fan flipped through the instructions, frowning at the text:

[quote] 

Soul Communication Apparatus, developed by the Underworld's greatest inventor, Master Yin Tianzi. 

In consideration of certain transmigrators wanting to see deceased loved ones, this product was designed to help fulfill that wish. 

Operation is simple: place the departed's keepsake on the platform, light three sticks of incense, and insert them into the large incense burner at the side. 

If your loved ones are still in the Underworld (i.e., haven't reincarnated), you can connect to them. 

If they've already reincarnated, well… you're just out of luck. 

No refunds. We reserve the right of final interpretation in all cases. 

If you insist on filing complaints, we have a specialized customer service team ready to escort you to the Underworld (by declaring your time's up). 

[/quote]

Fan's eyes bulged. 

"'If you complain, we pull the plug on your lifespan'? Talk about ruthless…"

Those helping to assemble the contraption noticed Fan's repeated exclamations but only assumed their leader was preparing for something important. Soon enough, they finished building a large, circular platform set with what looked like a ceremonial gateway—somewhat reminiscent of an ancient Chinese memorial archway.

Fan studied the gate and thought, 'This looks suspiciously like something out of my old world's depiction of the Ghost Gate…' 

Then he called Yan over. 

"Place your family photo here, light three sticks of incense, and bow twice toward the burner before inserting them."

Though puzzled—'Weren't we supposed to save the world? Why are we doing this half-occult ritual?'—Yan felt certain there must be a reason, so he followed instructions to the letter. Under the watchful gaze of all, Yan placed the photo on a small raised platform, lit three sticks of incense, bowed, and slid them into the burner.

Thin streams of smoke curled upward, forming a swirling mist confined within the edges of the platform. Yan's eyes went wide—he recognized his wife and daughter materializing before him in ghostly translucence.

Below the platform, everyone gawked. 

"I… guess ghosts do exist after all," someone muttered.

Yan's wife looked around, equally stunned. 

"What is this? I was just about to finish work in Yidu City and have dinner with our daughter… Did I just blink and end up here? Wait—did her father die, too? Did you… you'd better not have done anything foolish like…"

She whirled on Yan, suspicious. 

"Yan, what happened? You didn't do something stupid, did you? My coworker said if someone takes their own life, they definitely go to Hell. That's no good!"

Hearing the familiar voice snapped Yan out of his daze. Tears flowed down his face like a waterfall. He was nearly two meters tall—yet now he wept like a child. His daughter rushed over, trying to hug him, only for her hands to pass right through his body. Pouting, she tried again and again, each time failing to embrace him. Finally, she burst into tears. 

Seeing his little girl sobbing, Yan reached out in desperation. But no matter how he tried, his arms went through her form. Reality sank in—the mother and daughter were mere spirits. For a moment, he felt relieved to see them at all, but the futility of holding them left him shaking. 

'So that's what this strange machine does… it really can summon their souls,' he thought.

His wife, Zhiling, planted her hands on her hips in exasperation. 

"If you're alive, why'd you just stand there scaring me half to death? Do you know how worried I was?!" 

Yan could only scratch his head, tears mixing with a sheepish grin at his wife's typical scolding. 

"Zhiling, I'm really fine. This device… somehow summoned both of you. I'm still among the living."

Feeling the eyes of the entire crowd on her, Zhiling's cheeks reddened. Instinctively, she tried to tug Yan's ear—but of course, her hand passed straight through him. With a sigh, she loosened up.

"Anyway, Yan, promise me you won't do anything reckless like 'following us' on your own. Hurting yourself to get here… that'd be a huge sin, you know?"

The two adults talked a while longer as their daughter looked on. Eventually, the incense burnt away, and mother and child vanished in a haze of pale smoke. Yan stood motionless, tears drying on his cheeks. Slowly, he turned to Fan, intending to drop to his knees in thanks.

Fan, alarmed, caught Yan's shoulder. 

"Stand up—what are you doing? We're companions, aren't we?" 

Yan's voice wavered, eyes red. 

"Thank you, Boss… thank you so much…"

No matter what Fan said, Yan insisted on bowing low. Ultimately, Fan had to yank him up with some force.

Meanwhile, the others—some with trembling lips, some with shining eyes—waited impatiently. Fan rolled his eyes. 

"Alright, alright. Line up, one by one. No shoving. Each person gets three sticks of incense. I don't have an endless supply—this stuff is ridiculously expensive."

Indeed, each bundle of ten incense sticks cost an entire point of "Cross-World Coins." They were apparently just normal incense, "blessed" by someone in the System Marketplace. Fan could only lament: 

'Someone out there is raking in easy money—typical successful transmigrator, building a shop in the System Mall while I'm still scraping by…'

He drifted into a momentary gloom, then reignited his determination: 

'No, I can't give up. I'll just have to work harder. If I can't outsmart them, I'll outwork them!'

He crumpled the manual in frustration, shouting silently: 

'(╯°□°）╯︵┻━┻ Enough complaining. Let's start building that mechanical exoskeleton!' 

[End of Chapter]