When I opened my eyes, my field of vision was blurry at first, and then filled with blinding whiteness.
He found himself huddled in the shadow of a broken wall. The wall was made of rammed earth and had been gnawed into pieces by the wind and sand, like the ribs of a giant beast exposed in the wilderness.
The body was covered in rough linen cloth, barely covering anything, and there was grit and unknown dirt stuck to the skin.
His throat was burning and his stomach was empty and twitching.
Fragments of memories that did not belong to him, like turbid currents rising from the ground, washed over his consciousness arbitrarily - the constant-temperature glass cabinets of the museum, the ink stains on the yellowing scrolls, and then the overwhelming yellow sand, figures in strange clothes, and a strange energy called "Chakra" flowing inside the body.
Naruto world. The border of the Kingdom of Wind.
He squeezed out some blood-smelling saliva from his throat and forced himself to sit up.
Every joint in the body is groaning, but what is clearer is the almost instinctive vigilance and observation desire in the brain that belongs to "Lin Jian" and another soul.
Time travel?
Absurd.
Survive?
Imminent.
