William Thompson carefully reviewed his hazy memories, grabbed his phone and keys, and walked out the door.

In the empty, chilly stairwell, the silver elevator was a bit faster than he expected.

He pressed the button, counted to four in his mind, and it had already reached the first floor.

Leaving the stairwell and stepping out of the building entrance, his foot touched the gray ground outside for the first time, feeling that solid, real sensation. Suddenly, William Thompson felt grounded inside.

He stood at the entrance, feeling the slightly warm breeze on his body, a wind carrying the scent of flowers and breakfast, a kind of indescribable vitality welling up in his heart.

Ding-a-ling-ling.

Suddenly, the sound of a bell came from the entrance of the building across the way.

An old man with graying hair was helping his granddaughter onto the back seat of a bicycle. Taking one, two, three steps forward, he hopped on the bike and, looking completely at ease, rode off to take his granddaughter to school.

The little girl, not yet ten, wore a backpack, yawned, with a trace of tears still at the corner of her eyes, and a faint handprint lingering on one cheek.

William Thompson rotated his ankles as he watched the little girl and the old man gradually disappear into the distance.

He hopped lightly twice, then followed in the direction of the bicycle, jogging to catch up.

That way led out of the neighborhood, and the usual spot for his morning exercise was on the side of this place called Xingfu Community, in a small park.

On the internal roads of the community, cars passed by from the side, all people heading out to work.

The leaves and branches overhead rustled in the wind, constantly shedding pale yellow flecks—perhaps flower petals, or fuzz from the leaves.

William Thompson ran along the road out of the community, paused for a moment in front of a large stone with the red characters “Xingfu Community” carved on it to the right of the entrance, then continued running to the right side of the community.

Fresh air, pleasant temperature, bright light, clean streets.

Streams of people and cars busy with work and school drop-offs, and early risers out for exercise.

The tangible reality of it all gradually steadied William Thompson’s somewhat unsettled mood.

He ran all the way to the entrance of the small park, stopped at the edge of a circular open space, and waited.

The ones who exercised with his former self were the other two people in his phone’s background photo: Samuel Clark and Edward Brooks.

Seven days a week, five of them, they would come here together for morning exercise.

William Thompson felt both anticipation and nervousness—everything in this world was new to him.

The relationships and past of his former self were both familiar and strange.

As he thought about how to deal with his two friends, the unease from last night’s strange experience gradually faded into the background.

He had a vague sense of disorientation, as if this was his real self, and the previous life in his memories was just an extremely vivid dream.

But that feeling was quickly pushed aside.

Because, from the right, someone was already jogging toward him.

“Xiao Yi!” the person called out from afar, running with textbook form.

This was a tall, burly man, at least 1.9 meters, with a buzz cut, bulging muscles, a big frame, wearing a black T-shirt and gray-white sweatpants, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a red mole slightly to the left of his brow. He was none other than William Thompson’s old friend and classmate, Edward Brooks.

------------

003 World One (Thanks to Chen for stepping down as alliance leader)

“Why are you a bit late today?” Edward Brooks asked. He stopped a meter in front of William Thompson, still bouncing in place to warm up.

“Got up a bit late, had a nightmare last night, didn’t sleep well,” William Thompson exhaled.

“You’ve been having nightmares every day lately, that’s not good... You were out of breath after just a few laps the other day too, are you getting too weak?” Edward Brooks fiddled with his index finger, showing a mischievous grin.

“Heh, how could I be weaker than you? You’re a fitness coach always flirting with your own students, and you still have the nerve to talk about me?” Information about his friend kept flooding into William Thompson’s mind, and his words started to come more naturally.

“Flirting? Do you even know what professional skills are? Do you understand emotional value? Buying my classes not only gets you a great body, but also the long-lost feeling of being cared for!” Edward Brooks shamelessly replied, cracking his knuckles.

“Your skin is so thick it’s hard to look at. Where’s Samuel Clark?” William Thompson asked.

According to his former self’s memories, the three of them always exercised together, for nearly ten years, rarely changing.

“Over there, chatting with someone.” Edward Brooks pointed into the distance. “She told us to start running first, she’ll join us in a bit.”

Under the shade of a tree, a young girl in a light green fitted tracksuit was chatting with a few other young men and women.

Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, black and shiny, her skin fair, and the occasional smile she showed while talking looked sunny and outgoing.

“All right,” William Thompson withdrew his gaze. “Shall we run?”

“Yeah.”

The two of them started jogging side by side along the red track in the park.

“Didn’t you say you sent out some resumes? How’s the job search going?” Edward Brooks asked casually.

“Tough.” William Thompson was happy to chat more; it helped make the vague memories in his mind clearer.

“What’s so tough? Isn’t your sister around? Ask her for help! With work and all, she’s bound to have some connections.” Edward Brooks said carelessly.