Chapter 75: Another Time Travel
After Chris and Stewie finalized the reward payment mechanism for Peter's Herbert-blocking services, the two of them returned to Stewie's secret underground laboratory beneath the Griffin house.
After nearly two weeks of intensive modifications and improvements, Stewie had finally completed the comprehensive transformation of the specialized wristwatch device.
Now, in addition to the critical function of shutting down the spatspatiotemporal synchronization device as Chris had explicitly requested, Stewie had also ingeniously added an extradimensional storage space to the wristwatch—which could be used to store physical items in a pocket dimension.
Chris, after receiving the upgraded wristwatch, immediately tried it out with boyish enthusiasm. As his finger tapped the watch face, a sophisticated holographic projection appeared floating before him in mid-air.
Displayed on the projection were item storage slots similar to those in video game inventories—this was the extradimensional space Stewie had integrated.
"Holy shit, I've finally got the protagonist's standard gear," Chris muttered with satisfaction. "But how exactly do I use this thing?"
Chris experimentally fumbled with the holographic projection interface, swiping and tapping, but nothing actually happened.
Seeing Chris's clumsy attempts, Stewie rolled his eyes and instructed him impatiently, "Press this icon here to activate the scanning function for whatever item you want to store, then click confirm, and the item gets transferred into the dimensional pocket."
Following Stewie's demonstration, an entire wall-mounted rack of various firearms in front of Chris was instantly digitized and loaded into the extradimensional storage space.
Looking at the neatly categorized weapons now displayed on the holographic projection—sorted by type, caliber, and ammunition—Chris exclaimed with genuine admiration, "That's incredible! How the hell did you engineer that? The organizational system is even automatically detailed!"
Regarding Chris's curious enthusiasm, Stewie had absolutely no intention of satisfying his scientific curiosity. Instead, he directly mocked him, "With your pathetically limited knowledge base and complete lack of physics education, it would be nearly impossible for me to explain the quantum mechanics and dimensional folding principles in terms you'd actually understand."
Chris didn't particularly care about this dismissive response. Not understanding the underlying scientific principles didn't matter at all, as long as he could effectively use the technology.
"If you want to retrieve and deploy a stored item," Stewie continued his tutorial, "just tap on the item icon, select the desired quantity, and confirm deployment. The items will materialize directly in front of you."
After Stewie had taught Chris the entire operational process, he had Chris practice the procedure once himself. After confirming that Chris had successfully mastered the basic functions, Stewie opened the laboratory's secondary storage vault with a dramatic flourish.
Chris looked at the massive quantities of dragon's blood beverage and various military-grade weapons systematically piled inside, staring at Stewie in genuine shock.
When the hell did this little genius acquire another entire storeroom, and fill it with this much equipment?
"Ten thousand cases of genuine, full-strength dragon's blood potion—not the diluted commercial beverage," Stewie announced proudly, arms folded across his chest. "Plus enough military equipment and ammunition to fully arm an entire Army company. All prepared specifically for you and your interdimensional adventures."
Looking at Chris's surprised and genuinely moved expression, Stewie stood there with unmistakable pride.
"Thanks, little brother," Chris said with uncharacteristic sincerity. "Seriously."
Regarding Stewie's incredibly thoughtful preparations, Chris laughed warmly and rushed into the storage vault, then systematically loaded all these crucial supplies into his wristwatch's dimensional storage.
Looking at the now fully packed item slots displayed on his holographic interface, Chris felt an overwhelming urge to find another world to visit—specifically to vent all the accumulated frustration and trauma from his experiences in the Death God World.
If I'd had these supplies back in the other universe, Chris thought with dark satisfaction, I would have dared to directly confront that abstract concept of fate itself. See if I could crash that metaphysical bastard's entire system.
After all, among the supplies he currently possessed, those firearms and conventional armaments were actually secondary in importance.
The truly critical resource was those ten thousand cases of dragon's blood potion—and these weren't the heavily diluted dragon's blood beverage with drastically reduced efficacy.
This was the original formula Stewie had created—a genuinely magical potion where just one bottle could completely restore Chris to full health from any injury, no matter how severe.
It could be accurately said that with this resource, even if the Shinigami summoned meteor strikes a hundred thousand consecutive times, Chris genuinely wouldn't need to fear death anymore.
Because one case of dragon's blood potion contained twenty-four bottles, ten thousand cases meant two hundred and forty thousand total bottles.
This was functionally equivalent to giving Chris two hundred and forty thousand resurrection potions. Even if the Shinigami could genuinely bring him to the absolute brink of death a hundred thousand times, it would only consume half his supply.
Thinking about his dramatically increased survival capacity and life-saving ability for future adventures, Chris excitedly grabbed Stewie in an enthusiastic bear hug, directly kissing the top of Stewie's oversized head and saying emotionally, "You're the best brother anyone could ask for! How can I ever properly thank you for this?"
"Ugh! I don't need your thanks—just stop being so disgustingly affectionate!" Stewie protested with revulsion.
Although Chris was no longer the morbidly obese teenager he'd been when Stewie first met this transmigrated version, Stewie still absolutely couldn't stand Chris's overly affectionate physical displays. He frantically waved his stubby arms to push away Chris's large face.
"Hahaha, you said it yourself—no thanks needed!" Chris laughed, setting Stewie down carefully.
Chris departed the laboratory with genuine good cheer and returned to his bedroom upstairs.
Returning to his personal room, Chris wasn't particularly in a hurry to sleep. With his current supernatural energy levels and enhanced physiology, two hours of sleep could sustain him for ten days to two weeks without any noticeable fatigue.
However, because the internet in this mid-2000s era was just beginning to develop, it was nowhere near as entertaining and engaging as it would become in his previous life's 2010s and 2020s.
Therefore, Chris still went to bed every night primarily to pass time through sleep, and if he was genuinely bored, he'd watch some downloaded movies on his computer.
But tonight, Chris didn't plan to follow his usual routine. Having just acquired this sophisticated high-tech gadget from Stewie, he definitely wanted to experiment with it more thoroughly and understand all its specific functions and capabilities.
However, before Chris could explore the device for more than ten minutes, his surroundings suddenly began to distort and change dramatically. His bedroom instantly transformed into a desolate desert landscape—a barren, rocky wasteland stretching endlessly in all directions.
"Wait... what the hell? Did I just transmigrate again?" Chris muttered, looking around in confusion.
Chris immediately opened his wristwatch interface. His instincts told him this wasn't Stewie's doing—the kid would have warned him first. So Chris directly shut down the spatiotemporal synchronization device to prevent being forcibly recalled.
Scanning the desolate, alien world around him, Chris wasn't particularly panicked or concerned.
As long as Stewie wasn't intentionally messing with him through the device, Chris's innate transmigration ability absolutely wouldn't send him into a genuinely life-threatening environment—it seemed to have some kind of built-in safety mechanism.
So for Chris, this world he'd just arrived in should simply be another horror movie universe, probably completely manageable without significant danger.
Having confirmed his working theory, Chris deliberately unleashed his misfortune ability in a wide radius and began actively searching for the nearest populated area.
The creative idea of using his misfortune ability to locate people was something Chris had developed through experimental trial and error.
Because his misfortune ability was fundamentally dependent on man-made disasters and human-created objects, only things directly related to human civilization could be manipulated by him to create accidents and death.
So based on this operational principle, Chris had figured out this method to confirm where humans were located—his ability would naturally gravitate toward and detect human presence.
Chris could even roughly determine the approximate number of humans in a given location based on the intensity and complexity of the misfortune probability fluctuations he sensed.
At this moment, as Chris's supernatural senses expanded outward, he instantly confirmed that there were definitely humans in a specific direction—maybe eight or nine miles away.
However, in Chris's perception, there were surprisingly few humans there—only about thirty to forty individuals total.
And most of them registered as extremely strange in his senses, with unusually low "human scent" signatures, as if they were hybrid offspring born from the unnatural combination of some alien creature and humans.
Thinking about how every location where he initially appeared seemed to be a familiar plot-relevant setting, Chris immediately guessed that these strange quasi-human entities were probably the primary horror elements of this particular world.
Makes sense, Chris thought. I always seem to arrive right at the beginning of the story.
With this realization, Chris began walking directly in that direction with purposeful strides.
If these creatures turned out to be relatively benign monsters who were fundamentally kind to humans, that would be perfectly fine. But if they were a group of sadistic monsters who killed for entertainment and pleasure, then Chris was absolutely prepared to have some violent fun with these things.
He'd been desperately looking for a proper outlet to vent all the accumulated frustration and trauma from the Death God World, and he honestly hadn't expected to find such a suitable world this quickly.
My innate transmigration ability really is quite considerate and understanding! Chris thought with dark amusement.
While Chris secretly praised his convenient supernatural talent, at Chris's distant destination, a large SUV pulling a rental RV trailer was parked beside an isolated desert gas station—one of those incredibly remote locations that existed purely to service travelers crossing vast uninhabited stretches of highway.
"Doug! Come on, we're done filling up!" a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length brown hair called out, waving toward the gas station's small convenience store.
"Yeah, coming!" Doug called back, slapping his cell phone in visible frustration. There was absolutely no signal out here in this godforsaken wilderness.
As Doug walked up to the RV, a rough-looking man in his sixties wearing a faded baseball cap and work shirt pointed at him and said with barely concealed irritation, "I really hope you can temporarily put work aside for once and actually focus on your family. That's what this trip is supposed to be about."
Just as the atmosphere between father-in-law and son-in-law became noticeably tense and awkward, a petite woman in her late fifties with short gray hair and wearing a white sundress quickly walked over to interrupt the confrontation.
"Doug, don't mind him," Ethel said diplomatically, shooting her husband a warning look. "Bob is just being overprotective because of our anniversary trip. Go ahead and check on Lynne and the baby."
Seeing his mother-in-law actively defending him, Doug nodded gratefully and escaped into the RV, leaving his disapproving father-in-law Bob watching him retreat with continued annoyance.
"You can't keep enabling him like this, Ethel," Bob muttered critically. "That kid's weak personality is partly our fault—your fault. He's too soft. How's he supposed to properly protect and provide for Lynne and our granddaughter if he can't even stand up for himself?"
Facing her husband's accusation, Ethel smiled with patient understanding. "He just became a father six months ago, Bob. He'll mature and change. Don't be so aggressive and harsh in criticizing him constantly."
Seeing her husband about to launch into another lecture, Ethel physically pushed Bob toward the driver's seat. "Alright, alright, enough! If we don't leave right now, we'll end up spending the night stranded out here in the middle of nowhere!"
Seeing his wife's determined expression, Bob reluctantly climbed into the driver's seat and started the vehicle.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Strange, rhythmic sounds began echoing from somewhere in the distance across the desert. But the family was too preoccupied with their own tensions to notice.
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