A Savior’s Unwelcome Return

Yuan Anqing stood expressionlessly before a special service window, a laptop bag clutched in his hand.

He was thinking—or perhaps his mind had simply crashed. The situation unfolding before him far exceeded his expectations, shattering the worldview he had meticulously constructed over thirty-five years.

The person behind the bulletproof glass of the service window waved and smiled at him.

“Mr. Yuan Anqing, welcome back.” The intercom at the window crackled to life. The person inside spoke with a standard broadcasting voice—a clear, rich tone, each word round and full, imbued with warmth. “You look very healthy. Just as described in your profile, you are a handsome young man.”

By social etiquette, Yuan Anqing should have responded by now. Whether he humbly denied the compliment or simply thanked them, he ought to have said something to prevent their words from ‘falling to the ground’ and ending in an awkward silence.

Yet, Yuan Anqing did nothing. He merely stood there, rooted to the spot.

The other party did not seem angered by Yuan Anqing’s aloofness. Instead, they gazed at his face with gentle eyes.

Yuan Anqing could clearly perceive the emotions in their eyes, primarily because the staff member’s eyes were remarkably large. In fact, the staff member’s face held only one eye, which occupied half its surface. Their head was devoid of hair, smooth like a peeled hard-boiled egg—a blue hard-boiled egg, at that.

It was a blue of extremely high saturation, a color typically seen on cheap, old flyers, paired with an equally high-saturation yellow to achieve a jarring, visually stimulating effect.

They also lacked a nose. Below their eye was a colossal mouth, its corners stretching to where ears should be. No one could possibly miss their smile; it was simply too conspicuous.

In Yuan Anqing’s understanding, humans generally did not look like this. He had once believed such ‘generalities’ were 100% certainties. Now, he was no longer sure.

After a long silence, Yuan Anqing finally spoke. “I believe I just pushed open the door to a conference room,” he said, glancing back at the heavy door behind him.

This room appeared to be completely sealed, lacking even a single window. The door behind him was metallic and looked immensely heavy. Beside it was an opening—possibly a vent or an air conditioning outlet—from which a red ribbon fluttered in the airflow.

It felt akin to some kind of high-security confinement room, yet within it, a bank counter had inexplicably appeared. These two elements clashed in a profoundly unsettling way.

But that wasn’t even the main point.

If he recalled correctly, Yuan Anqing had been about to enter the company’s main conference room, pushing a door made of solid mahogany. The laptop bag clutched in his hand still held the laptop containing the PPT presentation he needed for the meeting.

However, the moment Yuan Anqing pushed open that door, the scene before his eyes had completely transformed.

“I understand your current feelings,” the large-eyed, blue-skinned person said. “We are not some alien service office, nor an alternate dimension. You can think of us as another world—a parallel world. Do you typically read fantasy literature?”

Yuan Anqing pressed his lips together, the most significant movement he had made since arriving. He asked, “Am I insane?”

He suspected the immense pressure of his life had finally wrung his soul dry, and he had ended up in a mental hospital.

“No,” the blue-skinned person quickly denied his assumption. “Why would you be insane? You are our savior.”

‘What a chuunibyou fantasy,’ Yuan Anqing mused inwardly. He dearly wished his mental world could switch scripts, if only to grant him a year or two of rest first.

Despite his skepticism, Yuan Anqing did not actively try to break out of this dream. He was merely curious. “Then how am I supposed to save the world? Do I have special magic?”

The blue-skinned person seemed a little surprised. “In the past thirty-five years, have you ever used any magical abilities?”

Yuan Anqing shook his head.

The blue-skinned person grew even more perplexed. “Then why would you think you have magic?”

‘Does the inner world of a mentally ill person really need to nitpick such details?’ Yuan Anqing wondered.

“Your special quality lies in your spirit—in that heart which forever embraces the world with fervor,” the blue-skinned person stated, each word firm and unwavering.

However, Yuan Anqing merely blinked, noncommittal. He felt this dream was stretching into pure absurdity.

Yuan Anqing was, by nature, a person with remarkably low desires. He experienced joy and sorrow, but these emotions were always muted. He did not cry when sad, nor did he burst into hearty laughter when happy.

He was naturally handsome, with a high nose bridge, long, slender brows, and thin lips. His appearance hovered between a cool aloofness and a delicate beauty. Standing at 183 centimeters, he exuded an elite aura in a suit, much like the excellent yet quiet second male lead in a shoujo manga.

Many people interacted with Yuan Anqing, yet he had few true confidants. This was because he struggled to empathize with others. Whether offering comfort or celebrating, Yuan Anqing was invariably the one who dampened the mood.

As for romance, Yuan Anqing suspected he had never truly gone through puberty in that regard. While his muscle mass and height had certainly increased, he had never experienced the stirrings of passion. Not once.

He had even consulted a doctor about it, but no definitive conclusion was ever reached.

‘He had never even tasted primal desire, yet he was supposed to embrace the world with fervor?’

The blue-skinned person was unaware of Yuan Anqing’s internal monologue. Seeing his unchanging expression, they assumed he was taking it well and continued, “To help you adapt and to conceal your identity, we have found you a profession identical to the one you held in your previous world.”

Yuan Anqing’s eyes widened slightly.

“You only need to complete tasks outside of your work hours,” the blue-skinned person reassured him.

Yuan Anqing responded quickly this time. “Are you saying you’re going to strip me of my rest time?”

“Of course not. Saving the world does not count as work,” the blue-skinned person corrected him.

Yuan Anqing understood. He understood everything perfectly. “I’m not insane.”

No madman would create such a malicious mental world to torment themselves with extra labor.

“Of course you’re not insane,” the blue-skinned person said, relieved by Yuan Anqing’s apparent ability to adjust.

Yuan Anqing looked down at the bag in his hand and then asked, “Can I decline being the savior? I have very important work to complete in my original world.”

The blue-skinned person’s enormous eye showed concern. “You cannot resign from your position now.”

“Now?” Yuan Anqing asked, puzzled.

The blue-skinned person nodded. “You are currently taking the place of the previous savior.”

Yuan Anqing was somewhat surprised. “Are there many saviors?”

“Of course! We originally deployed eight saviors to your original world.” The blue-skinned person pulled four sheets of paper from a drawer and passed them to Yuan Anqing through a slot. “These are the details of the four saviors who are still alive.”

Yuan Anqing’s hand paused as he took the documents. “Still alive?”

“Yes, our first batch of deployments failed.” The blue-skinned person sounded troubled. “At the time, the deployment device wasn’t as advanced. Four of them were eaten by bears, one was deployed onto train tracks and run over, and two others were sent to the depths of the ocean.”

Yuan Anqing didn’t know what expression to make, though it helped that he wasn’t particularly expressive to begin with.

He looked down at the documents, attempting to process the information. The papers resembled job résumés. Aside from himself, there were a male and two females listed.

The documents included photos; one male and one female were wearing school uniforms, appearing to be students, smiling brilliantly for the camera.

The blue-skinned person continued, “Later, we learned our lesson and improved the equipment. To prevent you from marrying and having too many ties in that world, we also suppressed your s*x hormones.”

Yuan Anqing looked up at them.

‘Right, so that’s why he had such physiological apathy.’

After reviewing the résumés, Yuan Anqing handed them back. “With so many saviors, why me?”

“Those two children in school uniforms are not adults; we cannot employ minors for the heavy lifting,” the blue-skinned person said, placing the documents back in the drawer. “As for the adult lady… she jumped from a building two hours ago.”

Yuan Anqing raised an eyebrow. “Jumped?”

“Yes, she leaped down without hesitation. We don’t understand it either.” The blue-skinned person sighed, lamenting the lady’s choice. “She is currently receiving treatment and cannot fulfill her duties as a savior.”

Yuan Anqing recalled the information he had just seen. The lady was 51 years old, but her photo made her look no older than her early twenties, as beautiful as a television star. “Did she look very young?”

“What do you mean ‘look young’? She’s only 51, just a young lady who recently came of age,” the blue-skinned person instinctively retorted. They then realized this savior’s world was different and explained, “You are considered human, but you are also different from the humans of your world. For example, your lifespan. Humans here can live for over six hundred years.”

Yuan Anqing gasped, and in that instant, he understood something. “Does this lady also have to do her original job?”

“Of course.”

“In our world, ladies retire at fifty.”

The blue-skinned person’s eye widened further, making them look even more terrifying. Clearly, their understanding of that world did not extend to specific retirement ages.

The blue-skinned person and Yuan Anqing exchanged a long glance.

Yuan Anqing continued, “It is entirely normal for her to break down if, a year after her hard-earned retirement, she is told she has to return to work.”

The blue-skinned person reached up and patted their own head. “No wonder, then. She would still have to work for over four hundred years by our standards. Humans here only start to age after five hundred and fifty.”

Yuan Anqing asked, “If I may be so bold, are you human as well?”

“Oh, no, I’m not. I’m a subspecies.” The blue-skinned person smiled again. “Our subspecies only lives for about two hundred years.” A hint of relief was discernible in their tone.

Yuan Anqing nodded, indicating his understanding. “Then, is it possible I’m a subspecies?”

The blue-skinned person stared at Yuan Anqing, speechless for a moment. Yuan Anqing didn’t appear particularly anxious, but his expressionless face nevertheless put immense pressure on the staff member.

The blue-skinned person panicked, their professional broadcasting voice cracking. “This room has no windows! You can’t jump!”

Yuan Anqing: ‘…Right, he understood now. He was a pure human.’