Minho stared intently at the glowing surface of the mirror, carefully deciphering each sentence as she pored over the text. Hours passed as she worked through the unfamiliar language, painstakingly translating the words and making notes in the margins of her book. Although many of the terms remained foreign to her, she gradually pieced together the general meaning of the text.

The surface now read:

“Professor Jonathan Marlowe of the [International Teleportation Research Institute] has issued a stark warning about the government’s ambitious large-scale [teleportation] project, stating that current [technology] is incapable of handling complex objects. In a series of high-profile experiments—one of which involved teleporting a [smartphone]—Marlowe demonstrated that intricate items cannot be reassembled after [teleportation], a major setback for the government's plan to revolutionize transportation nationwide.

The experiment that gained the most attention occurred just a few days ago when Marlowe and his team attempted to teleport a fully functional [smartphone]. While the device successfully disintegrated at the point of departure, it failed to reassemble at the destination and was completely missing.”

Minho paused at several key words: "[teleportation]," "[smartphone]," and "[technology]." While these terms weren't fully explained in her translation book, the context helped her infer their meanings. She understood that [teleportation] was a process of moving objects from one place to another instantly, although the mechanism remained unclear to her. A [smartphone] seemed to be the strange, reflective object she was holding—what she called the "black mirror."

She continued reading:

“This is not a small glitch; it’s a fundamental limitation of our current [technology],” Marlowe explained. “While we managed to break down the object into [data packets] and teleport it, the complexity of its internal systems and materials made reassembly impossible. The [smartphone] didn’t just fail to work—it ceased to exist in its original form. This presents a major obstacle to any large-scale teleportation efforts.”

The more she read, the clearer it became. The scholars—or perhaps they were magicians, as the term [research] suggested—were warning their society about the limitations of [teleportation]. While they had successfully teleported simple objects, more complex items like the [smartphone] were far beyond their ability to handle. The article described how electronics were scrambled, and systems like [microchips]—whatever they were—were destroyed in the process.

Minho's eyes widened as she read further:

“The [smartphone] test was a key moment for us,” Marlowe said. “It’s an object familiar to everyone—something people use every day. Its failure proves that we are far from ready to teleport anything as complex as human-made devices, let alone something as delicate and intricate as the human body.”

Beneath the text was an image of the [smartphone] used in the experiment. It looked exactly like the black mirror she held in her hands.

Minho sat back, letting the implications sink in. The mirror was a magical artifact as she had initially assumed. It was an object from another place, a society that didn’t rely on cultivation but on something called [technology]. Somehow, through a failed experiment in that place, the [smartphone] had been teleported here.

Of course, this was only Minho’s assumption, but it seemed to fit the situation perfectly. If that were true, did it mean she could use the [smartphone] to contact the people from that society? Could she ask for help? What could she actually do with this mysterious device?

Questions swirled in her mind as she glanced at the floating icons and the firewood, A sudden realization struck her: "[Browser]." It was the icon that, according to her notes, could connect to the [Internet], a vast network of knowledge. That was what the [smartphone] had shown her when it first explained how to use the device.

Could she really connect to this thing called [Internet] and access the wisdom of this advanced society?

Her heart raced at the thought. Without hesitation, she tapped the back symbol—the sideways triangle—returning to the main screen of the [smartphone]. Her eyes locked on the icon labeled [Browser], and she tapped it.

The screen flickered for a moment before changing.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

It was different from the [Maps] and [News] features she had explored before. The new page was bright, filled with more strange symbols and neatly arranged boxes. At the top of the screen was a long, rectangular bar with faintly glowing words inside: "Search or [type URL]." Below it were several square images, each with a short description underneath them. These images seemed to be linked to something, though Minho wasn’t quite sure what.

The screen displayed more symbols—some Minho could recognize from her previous explorations, others still unfamiliar to her—but overall, the layout remained simple and intuitive. As usual, whenever Minho interacted with the floating icons for the first time on the [smartphone], the device would guide her with explanatory text. It had done so when she first accessed the [Maps], [News], and [Settings], and now it was doing the same for the [Browser].

A small finger icon appeared on the screen, pointing to a long, rectangular bar at the top. The text accompanying it read: "Use the [URL Bar] to search." The glowing words felt like a quiet instruction, simple yet strange. Minho quickly grabbed her firewood notes and jotted down the new term: [URL Bar]. She didn’t fully grasp what it meant, but experience had taught her that these terms were important for understanding the device.

Carefully, she tapped the [Next] button at the bottom of the screen, which caused a new instruction to appear. “You can [BookMark] your favorite [Websites] by using the star.” The finger icon shifted, now pointing toward a star symbol near the [URL Bar]. Minho dutifully copied the term [BookMark] into her notes.

She tapped [Next] again, and the smartphone continued to explain the interface. This time, the finger symbol hovered over a left-facing arrow near the bottom of the screen. “This is the back arrow,” the text read. “Use it to return to the previous page.” Minho nodded to herself and added the symbol to her notes. It was something she had already grown familiar with in her earlier attempts to navigate the [smartphone].

The next instruction explained the [Refresh] button, represented by a circular arrow. The text said it could be used to reload a page if something went wrong or if new information appeared. Minho noted that as well, trying to imagine a world where pages could change or become more accurate with a simple tap.

Finally, after tapping [Next] one last time, no more instructions appeared. The guide was complete, leaving her with the open [Browser] page and its cryptic symbols and terms. Minho sat for a moment, absorbing the new information, her mind racing with possibilities.

The [Browser] appeared to be a gateway of some kind, but where did it lead? The idea of using the [URL Bar] to search for something intrigued her. What knowledge could she unlock with this strange tool? Could it reveal more about the mysterious technology from this advanced society?

Minho leaned forward, fingers hovering over the [URL Bar]. This was it—the door to knowledge. With all the instructions absorbed and her notes at hand, she felt a spark of curiosity and determination. She didn’t fully understand the [Browser] yet, but she was ready to explore its depths. The thought of connecting to the vast knowledge of this advanced society filled her with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Just as Minho was about to tap the [URL Bar], she heard footsteps approaching outside the hut. Her heart skipped a beat, and with quick reflexes, she tapped the back and side buttons of the [smartphone] to turn off the screen. She shoved the device into her bag, hiding it beneath her other belongings. Trying to remain calm, she laid back down on the hay, pulling her blanket over her and pretending to sleep.

The footsteps grew closer, soft but unmistakable. Minho’s body tensed, though she forced herself to breathe steadily, her eyes closed. Soon, the wooden door creaked open, and she heard someone step inside. It was Sister Tao.

Tao quietly entered, likely here to check on her for the night. She walked around the small hut, her steps light but deliberate. Minho could feel the weight of Tao’s gaze pass over her, checking to see if she was resting well. A few moments later, satisfied, Tao stepped back outside, closing the door behind her and heading toward the entrance of the cave once more.

Minho exhaled a soft sigh of relief, her heart finally slowing. She had been drowning in sorrow ever since the attack on the village, but her excitement over the [smartphone] had made her forget her worries. Her mind, still buzzing with thoughts of the strange device and the [browser], had kept her away from upsetting thoughts. The day’s events finally caught up with her.

The mental strain of deciphering unfamiliar words and concepts combined with the comfort of her blanket caused her exhaustion to settle in. Before she knew it, Minho’s eyes closed for real, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Gu and Shun approached one of their hidden stash locations. It was a small clearing nestled between the trees, where they had buried essential supplies for emergencies. But as expected, trouble was already there. Two Greenwood Brotherhood bandits sat around a makeshift campfire, playing some kind of game with coins, their rough laughter cutting through the stillness of the night. The flickering firelight illuminated their faces, casting long shadows on the ground.

Shun, eager and impulsive, gripped the handle of his sword and was about to charge at the bandits. His muscles tensed, ready to attack, but Gu swiftly placed a firm hand on his arm, stopping him. He leaned in and whispered urgently, “We need to go back, Brother Shun. Remember, we promised the others that we’d return if we spotted any Greenwood bandits.”

Shun frowned, his eyes narrowing with frustration. “Yeah, but if we go back empty-handed, how are we supposed to get any supplies? We’ve got nothing, and winter is closing in fast.” His voice was low but filled with urgency. He glanced at the bandits again, their laughter grating against his nerves. “We can’t survive the winter without food and gear. This might be our only chance.”

Gu understood Shun’s desperation. They didn’t have anything—food, clothing, and other essentials—and with the harsh winter approaching, it was a dire situation. But This was Gu’s plan. He wasn’t willing to risk Shun’s life over a gamble. “Even if we take down those two,” Gu whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings, “we’ll be caught for sure trying to drag the supplies back. The Greenwood Brotherhood always has more men nearby. We can’t afford to take that risk.”

He slowly began to step back, his grip on Shun’s arm tightening as a silent reminder to follow. Reluctantly, Shun sighed and nodded, knowing that Gu was right, even if it stung his pride to retreat. They backed away quietly, careful not to make any noise that might alert the bandits. The crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot was barely audible as they melted into the shadows of the forest, leaving the bandits and their stolen supplies behind for now.

As they moved deeper into the woods, away from the campfire’s glow, Shun whispered, “We can’t keep running forever, Gu. Sooner or later, we’ll have to fight.”

Gu glanced at him, his expression hard but understanding. “I know, Shun. But it’s not tonight. We’ll find another way. We have to be smart about this.”

With no further words exchanged, the two continued their silent retreat, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The cold wind blew through the trees, a reminder of the looming winter and the difficult choices that lay ahead.