"Quack, quack!" Cold sweat kept rolling down Murin Tristan's body. He had a nightmare in which he was torn to pieces by a huge two - headed monster covered in scales and spitting fire.

This dream was so vivid that Murin Tristan, still feeling scared, subconsciously touched the area of his heart. He could feel it pounding fiercely. Only then did he heave a big sigh of relief and laughed at himself. How could there be a two - headed monster in this world?

After calming down, Murin Tristan finally remembered what had happened last night. He quickly looked around to see where that damned black hole had sent him.

The sky was so blue that it was intoxicating, stretching as far as the eye could see, as pure as a virgin without the slightest flaw. This was the best compliment Murin Tristan could think of to describe this sky. Although he didn't know where he was, he was sure it wasn't Shangjing City. Shangjing City, that heavy - industry city where the sun was rarely seen, didn't have such a beautiful sky. Under his feet was a stretch of ankle - high grassland, as green as oil, and it seemed to have no end. The cool breeze blew the grass in waves, and a fresh plant scent wafted towards him. The clear chirping of several unknown insects was like the sound of playing a musical instrument, which was very pleasant. The air was extremely fresh, and Murin Tristan couldn't help but take a few more deep breaths. He thought to himself, could this be a prairie? It's really nice, even more beautiful than what he saw on TV!

In the distance, a wisp of cooking smoke slowly rose from the horizon. Murin Tristan was overjoyed. He knew very well what cooking smoke meant: where there was cooking smoke, there were usually people! He immediately quickened his pace in that direction.

About half an hour later, the place where the cooking smoke was rising came into view: it was a small town with Western classical features, similar to the style of medieval Europe. The material of the road was not the most common cement, but rather large, hard bluestones. They were simple and elegant, and very clean. There were many stone carvings on the street: beautiful female angels with wings, knights riding on the backs of monsters, ferocious - looking demons, and mages holding magic wands... Their curves were very smooth and soft, and they were so lifelike that they were a pleasure to behold. The main part of the street was made up of various uniquely - shaped and characteristic buildings, lined up closely together. Although they were arranged tightly, there was no sense of congestion at all. It would be more appropriate to say that the designer was an artist rather than an architect. His unrestrained thinking was amazing. Using bold techniques, he ingeniously made the most of the limited space.

Taking his eyes off the buildings, Murin Tristan finally noticed that the people in the town were dressed very strangely. Generally speaking, according to the mainstream of their clothing, they could be divided into more than a dozen types:

The first type: They wore coarse - cloth clothes with wide sleeves, which had a bit of an ancient - costume flavor. This type accounted for the vast majority.

The second type: They looked somewhat like gladiators in ancient Rome, wearing strange - shaped armors, some made of steel, some of bronze, and others of unknown materials. They all carried swords and guns. Generally, these people were relatively strong - of course, this was only in comparison to men. It wasn't very appropriate to describe women as "strong". The female warriors were valiant and had a unique masculine charm. Their armors were also much lighter and more beautiful.

The third type: They were strange people wrapped in wide robes and wearing pointed hats. Since they almost hid their entire bodies inside the clothes, with only a pair of eyes showing, it was very difficult to tell their genders from their appearance. Their bodies seemed to be relatively thin. These people all held a short staff with a beautiful gem inlaid on the top. Judging from the way they walked freely, it wasn't for helping them walk due to foot problems. What the staff was for remained unknown.

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The fourth type: Similar to Leon, who people had been talking about earlier, they all held long weapons and shields and rode on horses. To be more precise, they should be called mounts because some people were riding on unknown beasts instead of horses.

The fifth type: They were also wrapped in robes and held short staffs, somewhat similar to the second type. However, their robes were not too loose, and they were all white robes. They didn't wear hats either. The biggest feature was that they were all women and looked very holy, somewhat like nuns in the human world.

The sixth type: Among the more than a dozen types of people, this group was relatively the closest to the normal dressing in the human world, but only relatively. They wore tight - fitting black clothes, all in black, and some even covered their faces with black scarves. If they appeared at night in the human world, they would easily be beaten up. There was no way around it; they really looked like thieves. There were both men and women in this group. Although their faces couldn't be seen, it was easy to tell from their figures.

Murin Tristan's soul apparently hadn't been purified just because he might have come to heaven. His eyes habitually fell on the plump breasts, round hips, and, well, beautiful legs of the women in tight - fitting clothes. When his eyes wandered to the outer thighs of these women with graceful figures, he was suddenly shocked because there was a sharp dagger attached to the weapon sheath on their thighs. Goodness! Female bandits?

The seventh type: They were dressed in light armor, and the biggest feature was that they carried arrow quivers on their backs. Their weapons were naturally bows or crossbows.

The eighth type: They wore fluttering cloaks, with their bare arms covered in unknown spells, which looked a bit disgusting.

……

……

Murin Tristan almost burst out laughing. Why were these people dressed so strangely?

The others also looked at Murin Tristan, this unexpected guest, with strange eyes, pointing and whispering. Some women even covered their mouths and snickered.

The term "alternative" refers to people or things that are different from the norm. Murin Tristan found that he unfortunately met all the criteria: he was wearing jeans and a T - shirt, and no one else was dressed like him. What was more embarrassing was that his clothes had gotten extremely dirty during the rainstorm, and he could almost be called a brother to a beggar.

Murin Tristan was very embarrassed. What on earth was this place? Judging from the architectural style, it seemed to be Western Europe. But he had never heard of any country in Western Europe where people dressed so strangely. Or could it be a country in the Americas? Murin Tristan fell into deep thought.

"Tap, tap." The rapid sound of horse hooves sounded on the street, getting closer and closer. When Murin Tristan was awakened by the sound, a huge black shadow had already appeared in front of him, carrying a strong momentum and pressure.

Murin Tristan almost instinctively rolled to the side. The black shadow galloped past the place where he had just been standing, bringing up a strong gust of wind.

Murin Tristan got up from the ground in a dishonest manner. He was just about to curse with his most frequently used swear word, "Damn it!" when his eyes suddenly widened, and his eyeballs almost popped out. The thing that had just rushed past was a snow - white horse. What shocked Murin Tristan was not the horse's tall and magnificent appearance, but the fact that it had a pair of white wings growing on its back!

A winged horse? In Western mythological legends, many gods used winged horses to pull their chariots. However, the one riding on this winged horse was not a god, but a mighty knight in golden battle armor, holding a white spear and a round shield. Behind him followed more than a dozen people in various costumes, each riding on a mount, but they were not horses. They were all kinds of unknown monsters, and there were even some with three or six legs, and they were very fast.

Murin Tristan stood there dumbfounded by the roadside, his eyes fixed on the winged horse and the group of people as they gradually disappeared. Suddenly, he seemed to understand something. Had he died and failed to escape misfortune in that damned black hole?

Was this heaven?