Chapter 003: The Cell

Wang Bo woke up from his dream in a cold sweat. To be honest, that dream was far too terrifying.

Pursuit, growth, counter-kill, bullets, missiles, nuclear bombs... All because he had merely exposed his identity as a superhuman, yet what he faced was the skepticism of the entire world.

Those not of our kind are bound to have different hearts—this saying was given full expression in the dream.

Although it was merely a dream, it was so real it made one's heart race.

After a long while, Wang Bocai breathed a sigh of relief—after all, it was just a dream. As long as he was careful, the situation in the dream might not necessarily come to pass.

Although at the end of the dream, he himself became the first president of the Human Alliance.

But compared to the so-called President, Wang Bo preferred the life of an ordinary person.

But... something seems off?

Wang Bo looked up, glanced around, and saw not the familiar ceiling and walls of his own home.

Holy shit, what the hell is going on?!!

Although the dream he had was extremely horrifying, what was even more horrifying was the reality after waking up.

Wang Bo stood up in a daze, stunned to find that the place where he had just been lying was actually grass, not a soft bed.

He looked around and found that the walls, which had been covered with Water Cube wallpaper on all four sides, had turned into three uneven earthen walls. The remaining side was not a wall, but a prison door made of iron.

Wang Bo finally realized that this was a fucking prison cell, which was somewhat ridiculous. Where was his room? Where had his big room gone? Why had it turned into a prison cell?

Was I fucking in prison?

What the hell was going on? Wang Bo was utterly perplexed. It took a while before his mind calmed down and he seemed to figure out what was happening.

I... had transmigrated?

Without a doubt, this is the most reasonable explanation at present.

If it weren't for transmigration, there would be no way to explain this situation at all.

But why did I transmigrate? Could it be that I obtained superhuman abilities and thus transmigrated? Speaking of which, is there any necessary connection between superhumans and transmigration?

There isn't, right?

Wang Bo certainly didn't recall that among Superman's many abilities, there was a transmigration ability.

If that's the case, why did I transmigrate.

Could it really be the work of some passing great deity, not only granting me superpowers but also making me transmigrate?

So he closed his eyes and prayed devoutly to the gods.

"Great god, if it was you who made me transmigrate, then please have mercy and send me back. In truth, I don't want to transmigrate; I just want to live a good life. A life of storms and splendor is not for me."

"Great god, please forgive me, who has no ambition whatsoever."

After finishing his prayer, Wang Bo opened his eyes, full of anticipation.

The walls were still the uneven walls, and the cell door was still made of iron.

He had not traveled back in time after all; he was still locked inside the cell.

It was clear that the culprit who had sent him through time was not some passing deity.

"What are you doing?"

Just then, a voice came.

Wang Bo looked up and saw a long-haired European man standing in the cell opposite, staring at him intently, a hint of doubt in his eyes. "Were you... praying just now?"

"Yes," Wang Bo answered frankly. "But unfortunately, there are no gods in this world."

"You never know," the long-haired European man said, a hint of reminiscence in his eyes, his tone meaningful. "Maybe the gods are too busy to hear your prayers."

"Is that so?"

Wang Bo was unimpressed. Looking at the long-haired European man, he asked, "Is this America?"

"No, this is Cairo," the European man replied.

"Cairo?" Wang Bo was somewhat surprised. "You mean, Cairo, Egypt?"

"Is there a second Cairo in this world?" the Western man retorted, his long hair falling down.

"You look like an American."

"Yes."

"Then why would an American be in a Cairo prison?" Wang Bo was increasingly surprised.

"I was about to ask you the same question. You look like an Easterner—why are you in a Cairo prison?" The other man still answered with a rhetorical question.

"If I said that I actually don't know why I'm here myself, would you believe me?"

"What?"

Wang Bo sighed and said, "Actually, I just fell asleep, and when I woke up, I found myself here."

The European man said, "What a coincidence, me too."

"Huh?"

"What I mean is, I also found myself locked up in this damn prison after waking up from a sleep." The European man stood up in some irritation and kicked the wall hard to vent his anger.

"So you're also a transmigrator?" Wang Bo grew even more astonished.

If he was also a transmigrator, Wang Bo couldn't help but suspect that the mastermind behind this was very likely an existence like the Main God Space or the Nightmare Space.

That's just terrifying, isn't it.

I never received any invitation at all, okay? I fucking don't want to be a reincarnator.

"Transmigration, what is transmigration?"

Fortunately, the European-American man's reply came in time, allowing Wang Bo to breathe an inward sigh of relief. At least that man wasn't a transmigrator — Wang Bo had really frightened himself just now.

Wang Bo touched his rapidly beating heart, shook his head, and said, "It's nothing, just think of me as talking nonsense."

The European-American man did not press further; instead, he said with an approving look, "Your English is really good. You're the best English-speaking Easterner I've ever met."

English? What nonsense are you talking? I was speaking Chinese, alright.

Wang Bo looked at the European-American man with a strange expression. "Are you saying that I'm speaking English right now?"

"Isn't it?" The man seemed to enjoy asking rhetorical questions.

Hmm...

Wang Bo was one hundred percent certain that he had spoken only Chinese, and that the European-American man had also spoken Chinese, but bizarrely, the other party thought he was speaking English.

This is too marvelous!

What the hell is going on here? Could it be that he really had been thrown into a mission space by the Lord God, and this bizarre translation was also the Lord God's doing?

For a moment, Wang Bo felt nothing but a creeping dread—even a superhuman ability couldn't achieve this.

"By the way, what's your name?" The European-American man didn't notice anything unusual and continued talking to Wang Bo.

"My name is Wang Bo, and you?" Wang Bo suppressed the palpitations in his heart and said.

"Rick, you can call me Rick O'Connell!"

Wang Bo let out an 'oh,' then suddenly looked up and said, "Wait, what did you say your name was?"

"Rick O'Connell, what's wrong? Is there something wrong with my name?" O'Connell couldn't understand why Wang Bo looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"No, it's nothing." Wang Bo suppressed the shock in his heart.

This was Cairo Prison, and the other party was Rick O'Connell.

"So, it's 1926 now?" Wang Bo asked tentatively.

"Yes." O'Connell didn't quite understand why the other person would ask this, but he nodded anyway.

1926, Cairo Prison, Rick O'Connell—when these three elements come together, what can you think of?

And all Wang Bo could think of was one thing.

Legends of Gods and Ghosts!