Chapter 205: Extra Five – Transported to the Modern World of Beastmen

In this era, changing clothes into beast form wasn’t as convenient. Wu Jiong hadn’t transformed, so the two of them walked slowly, following the directions on the road signs.

Jian Mo was relieved that the text they encountered wasn’t too dense. By guessing and context, he could recognize most of it. As for the spoken language, though heavily accented, he could roughly understand it.

They asked people for directions while walking and eventually reached a park.

The park had plenty of street lamps. Some people were taking walks, others were playing with cubs, creating a lively atmosphere.

Jian Mo looked around. He didn’t see anyone dancing in squares or singing—this place was still different from Earth.

Wu Jiong’s gaze flickered as he looked ahead. Jian Mo could tell he was in a good mood and asked quietly, “What is it? What are you thinking?”

Wu Jiong lowered his voice: “I didn’t expect people now to live so comfortably, so peacefully. I wish Zhu Zhu and the others could come too. We could fly up and see everything from the sky.”

Jian Mo reassured him: “Let’s see if we can find a mountain to climb; the view from above will be similar.”

Wu Jiong nodded: “Good.”

The two of them strolled in the park for a while and found several sculptures.

One sculpture had a plaque that read: “Doctor Jian Mo and Chief Wu Jiong”. The sculpture depicted a young man sitting atop a giant wolf.

The young man’s features were sculpted to appear delicate, while the giant wolf looked imposing and majestic.

Jian Mo walked around and saw text on the side of the sculpture, recording their deeds.

He was stunned and looked several times, saying to Wu Jiong: “This sculpture doesn’t look like us at all.”

Jian Mo’s appearance was more refined than delicate, and Wu Jiong’s beast form wasn’t that majestic—he looked more stern than elegant.

Wu Jiong commented: “The sculpture looks new. Whoever carved it must have never seen us in real life.”

Jian Mo: “That’s possible.” He nudged Wu Jiong with his shoulder: “How does it feel to see a sculpture of yourself?”

Wu Jiong remained calm: “This sculpture isn’t us—it’s their imagination of us. It has little to do with the real us.”

Jian Mo: “If there’s a sculpture, there must be other records too. I suddenly feel like looking for a bookstore or library.”

Wu Jiong held his hand and glanced around: “Let’s keep walking and ask people along the way.”

They walked out along the road, asking several people, and eventually found a small self-service book kiosk that was open day and night.

The kiosk was unmanned, with no other customers. On the table at the entrance was a small cash box for self-service purchases.

Through the glass side of the box, Jian Mo could see metal coins inside.

The coins were finely crafted, almost like artworks, engraved with different patterns according to their denominations.

Jian Mo tugged at Wu Jiong’s sleeve and whispered: “Don’t these coins remind you of the brooches we developed for the hunting festival?”

Wu Jiong studied them for a while: “The patterns are somewhat similar.”

Jian Mo couldn’t help but marvel: “Amazing! Let’s see what books they have.”

They browsed the small kiosk for a while and found history books, regional records, magazines, and novels.

Jian Mo pointed to a novel: “Look, this one is about our deeds.”

Wu Jiong looked at the cover: “Chief and Doctor—what?”

Jian Mo checked: “Seems like a legendary love story? Uh… a bit awkward. The content has nothing to do with us.”

After so many years, the text had evolved differently from what Jian Mo had taught. He could only rely on context and guesswork to understand small portions.

It was clear, though, that they had a melodramatic novel in their hands—unrelated to their real lives.

Wu Jiong picked up another book. Jian Mo leaned over: “The Chronicle of Shamanic Healers’ Glory—another romance novel.”

Wu Jiong flipped through it: “Different author, same genre.”

Jian Mo felt a strange embarrassment, goosebumps rising, and pushed Wu Jiong: “Put it back! Let’s not read our romance stories. Find something else.”

Wu Jiong: “Like what?”

Jian Mo: “Look for medical books. I’ll try to learn something secretly.”

Wu Jiong put the book back: “Good idea.”

They searched the kiosk but sadly found no professional books.

It felt more like a cultural gift shop for tourists than a real bookstore.

Jian Mo did find one book on the history of shamans, which called “Jian Mo” a Doctor and referred to all other shamans as “shamans.” Doctor seemed a special title for one unique person.

Wu Jiong concentrated on another book, guessing the text carefully.

With nowhere else to go, the two spent the night in the kiosk. At dawn, they held hands and left.

Jian Mo asked: “What did the book you were reading say?”

Wu Jiong: “It said that our area became the center of the continent—the birthplace of the sacred Riverside Tribe. The tribe expanded greatly, absorbed other tribes, and formed the Riverside city-state.”

Jian Mo looked back at the kiosk, astonished: “That impressive? I didn’t see it.”

Wu Jiong held his hand: “It happened long after our time.”

Jian Mo: “Alright… where to now?”

Wu Jiong: “Find a public restroom and freshen up.”

After washing, they felt awake again.

Wu Jiong took Jian Mo to a charitable station providing free breakfast. They each received a pastry, a drink, and a piece of fruit to get through the morning.

Returning the tray, Jian Mo whispered to Wu Jiong: “This era is amazing. I like it here.”

Wu Jiong: “Want to stay longer?”

Jian Mo: “No. Even if it’s nice, it’s not our time. I miss home, Zhu Zhu, and Ying Ao. Let’s go to the museum, then climb a mountain, and maybe wait by the lake to see if we can go back.”

Wu Jiong nodded: “I was thinking the same.”

Hand in hand, they headed to the museum.

After wandering the town for so long, they knew it well and easily found the museum.

It was free to enter. Arriving early, the only people inside were the security guards.

Upon entering the exhibit hall, they saw wall carvings depicting tribal life. At the entrance was a glass-covered sculpture—of themselves. This time, it also included Zhu Zhu and Ying Ao.

Jian Mo pointed through the glass, very pleased: “Look, our family.”

Wu Jiong smiled: “It’s us.”

Following the pathway, they soon saw tools they had used—pottery, metal hammers, surgical knives, backpacks, etc.—some replicas, some real.

Perhaps because they left written records or because beastmen and sub-beastmen were few and had never experienced war, many artifacts remained intact, and records were detailed.

Hand in hand, they explored, seeing both the tools of their era and later developments.

Jian Mo felt deeply moved. At that moment, he sensed time not as flowing, but as block-like—every block existing simultaneously, unchanged. Entering one block of time meant leaving another, but the past hadn’t disappeared, just that most people had left it, with no way back.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Jian Mo murmured his thoughts to Wu Jiong.

Wu Jiong held his hand tightly: “Anything is possible.”

Their fingers intertwined: “The world feels magical. But as long as we’re together, I can accept all the wonders we experience.”

Wu Jiong: “Me too.”

After leaving the museum, more visitors arrived—beastmen, sub-beastmen, and cubs unable to transform. Cubs were held by their fathers, dressed in little clothes, looking incredibly cute.

Jian Mo looked at the cubs, smiling.

Outside the museum, Wu Jiong said: “Now let’s climb the mountain.”

Jian Mo: “Let’s go to Ji Xun’s mountain. Not sure if their ruins are still there, but it’s high enough to see far.”

Wu Jiong: “Let’s go.”

Outside the town, Wu Jiong found a deserted spot, transformed into a giant wolf, and carried Jian Mo up the mountain.

The wolf ran swiftly through the wind, passing some fine stone houses—likely homes of dispersed villagers. Not everyone lived in tribes.

At Ji Xun’s mountain, they discovered a beautiful small village. Panda cubs played outside, along with some fox and white wolf cubs.

The cubs glanced at them briefly and continued playing.

Jian Mo held the wolf’s neck and whispered: “These must be Ji Xun and Mo A’s descendants. I saw a panda cub that looks like Mo A.”

The wolf nudged Jian Mo’s face: “I see it too.”

Jian Mo: “Amazing.”

Wolf: “Very amazing. Shall we go to the mountain edge?”

Jian Mo hugged the wolf’s neck: “Yes!”

Soon they reached the edge, overlooking the village, town, and flying winged beasts in the distant sky.

They had no idea how many years had passed in this world. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too different from their time—well, except the civilization level.

There was electricity, at least in an electrical era. Industry must have developed.

Yet the land remained quiet—a rare sight. Could it be due to the low population?

In the self-service kiosk, they saw that birth rates were low and population growth minimal.

If the population had grown, the scenery might have been very different.

Jian Mo looked at the beautiful land and thought: Low population growth is truly a gift from heaven.

After a while, the wolf turned its head gently: “Shall we go to the lake?”

It was beautiful here, but this era lacked their homeland, family, and friends—they didn’t belong here.

Jian Mo hugged the wolf’s neck: “Let’s run down and hope we can sleep in our big bed tonight.”

The wolf’s deep, gentle voice: “Hold on tight.”

Jian Mo clutched the wolf again. The wolf ran, carrying him toward White Sand Islet—they were going home.