A Cultivator in the World Dominated By Awakeners

In the end, during this trip, Oliver and Edward spent their time playing console games on the jet, leaving Rebecca to sit by herself.

Edward was clearly traumatized by the woman, to the point of swearing he would never eat or drink anything from her again.

She had knocked him out with a single glass of wine. After all, he was an Awakener—already at Level 12—yet he had passed out just like that.

It was obviously a poison not to be underestimated.

And she had likely only obtained that poison when she stepped away for a while after arriving at the airport.

Unfortunately, Rebecca had no interest at all in games, so she couldn't join them. She could only sit there in silence, looking like she was utterly bored and suffering.

Fortunately, this jet could cross the vast distance to Southeast Asia in just three hours.

Oliver wasn't very aware of their location until the pilot's voice came over the speakers, announcing they were landing at an airport.

He had been sitting on the floor, but now he stood and looked out the window—only to spot a massive city that seemed far larger than Manchester, perhaps five times the size.

That was somewhat surprising to Oliver.

However, unlike the beautiful and orderly Manchester, from above this city looked run-down.

There were no grand skyscrapers—only old buildings, with the tallest perhaps around 50 meters, clustered in the city center as though cut off from the surrounding areas.

The rest was made up of small houses.

The streets seemed few in number—or more precisely, most of them were so narrow that cars couldn't pass through.

Worst of all, many of the rivers Oliver saw were choked with garbage. Along the banks of some, houses stood so close that half of the river's width was taken up.

"Welcome to another world, Oliver. Compared to the Chaotic World, the islands of Southeast Asia are more deserving of the name 'another world,'" Edward said.

"They suffer from overpopulation," Rebecca added.

Even she seemed surprised by the sight of the city below.

There might be only a handful of cities in all of Europe as large as this one, yet in reality, this wasn't even considered a first-tier city in Southeast Asia. First-tier cities here were far larger, with populations exceeding fifteen million.

"Rebecca, you know, the poor in Europe live far better than the middle class in Southeast Asia—and sadly, the middle class here is far too small. Almost anywhere you look, you'll see people worse off than those you'd call country bumpkins in Europe. I'm afraid your eyes and brain might explode," Edward said with a mocking tone.

"Maybe you'd better cover your mouth and nose. I don't want to hear your complaints after we land," he added, sounding like he had started to bear quite a grudge against Rebecca.

She rolled her eyes but kept silent, even though she clearly wanted to say something.

Her gaze swept over the city below, and eventually, the only thing they could see clearly was the airport—which was at least large and impressive.

It looked as though it had been recently renovated on a massive scale.

Oliver even thought this airport was better than the one in Manchester.

But while the building was grand, he soon noticed that the terminal was filled with people who looked like gangsters.

Not long after, the jet came to a stop, and the pilot emerged from the cockpit to open the jet's door.

When the door swung open, Oliver saw about ten soldiers approaching the aircraft.

"Don't worry, they're my friends' troops. They'll be escorting us," Edward said.

Oliver then noticed that these soldiers were actually led by a young man in his twenties, his rank marked by a single gold stripe—signifying that he was an officer.

"Henry!" Edward greeted the man.

The man had a Western name despite not being Western himself. Still, Oliver had heard that many people in Southeast Asia adopted names from various countries.

The elites here, for instance, often used Western names.

Edward and Henry clearly knew each other well and had spoken many times before. As soon as they met, they began chatting rapidly.

"Let me introduce you—this is my friend, Oliver Whitemoon!" Edward said, not forgetting to make the introduction.

Henry appeared polite, extending his hand while stating his name.

Naturally, Oliver shook it.

"And this is Rebecca, my cousin from Germany," Edward went on, introducing Rebecca—who had drawn the soldiers' gazes from the moment they saw her.

Even in Europe, Rebecca was a rare beauty with blonde hair, so there was no need to even mention how exotic she appeared to the people of Southeast Asia.

She was the kind of woman they would normally only see in Hollywood films.

In fact, even Hollywood lacked enough blondes as rare as Rebecca.

Unlike Oliver, however, Rebecca seemed too lazy to introduce herself.

She acted indifferent, her eyes wandering curiously over her surroundings.

Henry, who Edward had called a friend, was likely just a young man from a family in service to the Rothschilds.

Since Rebecca was Edward's cousin, he still offered her a polite smile despite being ignored.

"Edward, I've prepared a car for you all. Come on, I'll take you somewhere comfortable," Henry said.

"Alright," Edward nodded, signaling Oliver and Rebecca to follow.

Guided by the group of soldiers, they passed through a special lane. Others in that lane could only step aside, clearly recognizing that anyone being escorted by soldiers was not someone to be trifled with.

These were not random tourists who could be harassed.

This was the privilege of connections.

If Oliver and Rebecca had arrived alone, they wouldn't have been able to enjoy such convenience.

Rebecca might have had plenty of money, and she could have announced who she was to draw help—but who would believe an unfamiliar stranger so easily?

That was why she had brought Edward along.

The three of them got into a car driven personally by Henry.

Edward sat in the front, while Oliver and Rebecca sat in the back.

Even on the main roads, Oliver found the traffic jams frustrating—the sheer number of motorcycles alone was overwhelming. Rebecca looked even more ready to turn back to Europe immediately.

"So, Henry, do you know where the Cultivator with the soul power is? I doubt you know nothing about her—her name has even reached Europe," Edward asked, finally bringing up the person they were here for.

"Lestari—she's from this city and based here. She's given me plenty of trouble, so how could I not know?" Henry replied with a laugh.

"Hahaha, since you're familiar with her, things will be easier," Edward said.

"No, not necessarily easier—especially considering your goal is to ask for her help," Henry answered, making Edward frown in confusion.

"Is she really that troublesome?" he asked.

"Yes. Imagine—she grew up in a harsh, impoverished environment, surviving by stealing. Her personality was already problematic before she became a Cultivator. Now that she's so powerful, just imagine the situation. If her cultivation were higher, I fear she'd declare herself queen and claim this entire region as her own." Henry gave a bitter smile as he explained.