1.9 Welcome to the City of Shards

Thinking of his first pot of gold, Wu Chen suddenly recalled that the red phone booth should have absorbed quite a few resource points back on the Road of Destruction 404.

Driven by an inexplicable sense of trust and referencing the player reviews gathered by his AI, Wu Chen decided to recount his recent adventures on the Road of Destruction 404 to the owner of the Mocha Cafe.

Hearing that the red phone booth, capable of changing size at will, possessed the traits of a "Gold-Devouring Beast," the cafe owner was clearly intrigued. "May I have a look?"

"Certainly." Wu Chen took out his car keys, with the petite red phone booth dangling right beside them.

The cafe owner held a Shelter Coin between his fingers, but before he could even get close—

Bang!

The red phone booth instantly expanded to its full size, standing tall right beside the bar. Everyone except the cafe owner and Wu Chen jumped in alarm.

The cafe owner looked around, satisfied that nothing was amiss, and gently opened the glass door. As he tried to step inside, he was blocked by an invisible air wall. With a wave of his hand, the barrier dissipated into nothingness.

He stepped into the booth, tried taking the receiver off the hook, listened for a moment, and then hung it back up. A Shelter Coin immediately popped out of the coin slot, followed by a continuous clattering sound. It lasted for quite a while, as if it were filling the booth's internal coin box to the brim.

"V-Card," the cafe owner said, clearly experienced.

Wu Chen handed over his student ID card.

Watching the cafe owner insert the card into the slot at the top of the phone, Wu Chen couldn't help but feel a bit sheepish. A phone that took both coins and cards—that was exactly how it was meant to be used!

With the VIP card inserted, a row of flickering "0" characters appeared on the phone's narrow LCD screen. A moment later, the ones digit began to spin, followed by the tens, finally settling on the hundreds: 137.

"This is your first pot of gold," the cafe owner laughed. "There were another 99 coins in the internal box. That makes 236 coins in total."

"How do I use them?" Wu Chen let out a sigh of relief. Based on the immense purchasing power of Shelter Coins he had witnessed along the way, over two hundred coins was a significant fortune.

"Start by renting a parking space," the cafe owner suggested with a smile.

The waitress added a helpful reminder: "You can also bid on 'fragments' left behind by other players, or 'consignment items' that other players have left in the shop."

"'Only fragments can piece together fragments,'" the cafe owner noted. "Until they connect to one another, reforming into an exclusive branch storyline."

Wu Chen understood. "Fragments are key plot points."

"Or you could call them 'memory points,'" the cafe owner offered his own interpretation.

"Exactly." Wu Chen was convinced. Only by being remembered by the great shadows in the Void could a player avoid being easily erased.

"To be remembered by the world," Baili Yan whispered to himself.

"To be remembered by the world," Wu Chen echoed, lost in thought.

The cafe owner returned the student ID. The moment he stepped out of the booth, it shrank back into a pendant behind him. Wu Chen had asked Baili Yan about it; while others' vehicles couldn't mint coins themselves, they could convert resource points directly into digital currency stored on their exclusive VIP cards. It was a built-in function of all VIP vehicles. The cafe owner remarked that it was rare to see one like Wu Chen's, which could change size and shape on its own.

Thinking of the Shelter, a place where stars converged and extraordinary people were as numerous as the clouds, perhaps Wu Chen was just one of many.

The start of anything is the hardest part.

Having learned the basics and booked a one-month meal plan, the group rose to leave. The Mocha Cafe’s prosperity was built on repeat customers. Once they settled down, Wu Chen and his companions would likely visit often. There were simply too many unsolved mysteries regarding the City of Fragments, and the cafe owner was happy to wait for players to come seeking answers—a long-term investment strategy that proved he knew how to make a profit.

The four returned to the Free Port district, simply because the cost of living was lower there.

The City of Fragments was composed of a "Four-Fold Spiral." It was easy to predict: "Ascension is difficult; the heights are expensive." High status, high costs—everything was valued by its elevation.

The Free Port, situated on the outskirts of the City of Fragments, couldn't even be considered the Lower City. That was why it was called the "Edge of the Rift." Considering the City of Fragments’ scheduled "Cleaning Days," it wasn't hard to imagine that this place was the most volatile and the most prone to breaking.

Calling it a "slum" seemed appropriate enough. It was packed with secondary creations from various sci-fi storylines and all manner of low-level VIP players.

Regarding the classification of plot worlds: S-grade, A-grade, and B-grade (with pluses and minuses), it was simple to understand. VIP players in the Free Port mostly hung around B-grade sci-fi worlds. Creations from A-grade worlds or higher, like an Imperial Star Destroyer, were almost impossible to find in the port.

Even so, the port was filled with high-rise buildings crammed into every available space. Between the floors, countless cables, pipes, and capsule homes crisscrossed in a disorganized mess. The area was flooded with holographic advertisements, signs, and text—a sensory overload of light pollution. It felt like the very definition of cyberpunk.

The capsule homes seen everywhere in the port were like oversized versions of escape pods, roughly the size of a shipping container. Some had their own engines for free movement, while others hired drones to assist in relocation. They had become a unique landscape in the port, reportedly because they were originally converted from the City of Fragments' airport shipping containers. These containers were the easiest "original world creations" to obtain, or "originals" for short.

Because they were original items of this world, they inherently possessed "Guardian Memories," making them less likely to be easily forgotten by the great shadows of the Void.

To be forgotten was to be erased.

The four guessed that the "parking space" the cafe owner mentioned referred to these "capsule homes."

Advertisements for renting capsule homes were everywhere. There was no need to worry about being scammed; after all, these were transactions between VIP players. Integrity was the foundation of existence.

The rent wasn't expensive: "Utilities included, three meals provided; move-in ready, one coin per day."

With internal folding space, a bedroom, and a garage, it was a high-value temporary residence for a VIP player. One had to realize that, compared to new players, veteran VIPs had long since made names for themselves and had their own resources. Even just looking at their "upgrades" showed the difference: Baili Yan’s classic car and the couple's RV were undoubtedly their exclusive shelters. By constantly upgrading and updating their exclusive branch storylines, they could restore them to their prime. If nothing went wrong, Wu Chen’s AE86 and the red phone booth were surely his own exclusive shelters.

Seeing that the couple was quite interested in renting a capsule home, Wu Chen had his AI search for more information.

"A Broken Traveler’s Camp?" The man's surprise was written all over his face.

"Exactly." Wu Chen forwarded the camp information to the others. "It’s like an RV park. It only costs one coin to enter, and the facilities are quite complete. Compared to the one-coin-a-day rent for a capsule home, the camp is much cheaper."

They didn't need to worry about electricity; Wu Chen’s AE86 came with a nuclear power source. As for water, the couple's four-winged RV had a built-in molecular synthesizer. As for meals, they had just booked a one-month plan. Calculating it all, it was definitely cheaper than renting a capsule home.

As for personal safety once inside, if one only considered human factors, the AI’s comprehensive rating was: Low Risk.

"What are we waiting for?" Baili Yan laughed.

"Let’s go." The man was in high spirits.

Four people, three vehicles, and they headed straight for the Broken Traveler’s Camp.

It was fortunate that the AI assisted them the whole way; otherwise, it would have been nearly impossible for them to arrive. They had to navigate around streets, climb up and down skyscrapers, weave through pipes—flying and burrowing—and call the guards to open the firewall upon arrival.

"Welcome to the City of Fragments!" After collecting the one-coin entry fee, a reception drone offered a greeting and provided the secret key for the camp's internal network.

As they entered, Wu Chen subconsciously checked the central console screen: 106 Riverside Road.

That was the camp's street address.

"This is a relic of the Old World," the AI provided a preliminary assessment. "It is also an original creation of the City of Fragments."

"What was it used for?" Looking around at the cramped space and the massive mechanical components scattered everywhere, Wu Chen was lost in thought.

"Perhaps a starship foundry..." The AI quickly provided a new assessment: "Or perhaps a planetary base."

"A planetary base?" Wu Chen continued. "Analyze the elements and draw an analogy to Earth."

"Master, I lack an Earth element database." The AI had no such database. The AI’s "database" was analogous to a player’s memory. Without a reference, there would be no result.

The information stored in the database was all newly gathered since entering the City of Fragments, and there was nothing to compare it to.

"Forget it then," Wu Chen sighed.

Whether the camp had once been a starship foundry or a planetary base, it was enough to show that the technological level of the City of Fragments was clearly not low.