Chapter 3: Paperwork and Homecoming

"Section Chief Johnson, I heard from our captain that you love coffee, so I brought you some beans—a small token."

At the Heavenly Command Lower World Visa Bureau, Qualification Review Office, outside the home office of Section Chief Johnson of the First Management Section.

Ethan Summers carried a box of coffee beans, standing a bit nervously at the door, greeting the person behind the coffee table.

"Oh, come in. Captain Parker already told me. No need to bring anything."

Ethan carried the gift box, carefully dusted himself off, then straightened his jacket and entered. With a dull thud, he placed the coffee gift box on the table.

Ethan stated his purpose: he wanted to visit his hometown in the lower world.

Section Chief Johnson frowned slightly after hearing Ethan’s words and casually picked up the high-grade spiritual treasure 'Fire Opal Smoking Pipe' at hand. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Look, man, you know this isn’t exactly by the book, right?"

Ethan hurriedly took out another document and handed it over.

Section Chief Johnson accepted it without changing expression, flipping through it, and spotted a large deposit slip from the Heaven and Earth Bank tucked inconspicuously inside.

He closed the documents and solemnly said, "Alright, I’ll push this through. But listen—no funny business down there, got it?"

Section Chief Johnson looked like the kind of guy who wore old college hoodies under his suit jacket, with a collection of novelty mugs cluttering his desk. He took his time, like he’d been running this place since Eisenhower was president. But when he set down his pipe and met my eyes, I knew the warning was real. Down in the lower world, you kept your nose clean or you never made it back up.

Immortal Realm – Silver Hollow Great Realm (a lower-grade great realm, under which there are fifteen hundred small realms) – Maple Heights Small Realm – Western Badlands.

Standing atop the highest peak of the Western Badlands, looking out over the endless desert, I couldn’t help but feel emotional. Fifty thousand years—I thought everything would have changed, but surprisingly, not much has.

Long-dead memories began to surface. In an instant, my form shifted and I appeared in a bustling old town. This is where the dream began.

"Did you hear? The youngest son of the Summers family started drawing in energy at just eight years old."

"Wow, Ethan Summers built his foundation at eighteen. Now the Summers family can thrive for another two centuries."

"What? Senior Summers has become a Violet Peak Adept?"

The sidewalks in town were still cracked, the old brick storefronts painted over with new colors but hiding the same chipped bones underneath. The smell of cinnamon rolls from Mrs. Lacey’s bakery drifted out, just like it did all those years ago. Every face was new, but the rhythm was the same: folks gossiping on the corner, kids running underfoot, someone always ready to mention the Summers family’s old legends.

Memories surfaced bit by bit in Ethan’s heart as he walked. He sighed deeply, found a coffee shop, ordered a cup. The past is the past; always dwelling on it isn’t good for your mindset. It never used to be like this, but the repetitive life after joining the Heavenly Soldiers made Ethan inexplicably nostalgic for the past.

He sat in the window seat, hands cradling a paper cup that steamed in the autumn chill. The barista wore a faded Red Sox cap, humming along to Johnny Cash on the radio. The bell over the door jingled, and the place smelled like burnt espresso and cinnamon rolls. He wondered if anyone here ever thought about other worlds, or if their dreams just stretched to the next county fair.