Bored Gamer in Other Worlds-Chapter 1081 Surgeon

Clark threw another punch and—

"BOOM!"

The domain shattered once again, the air rupturing with the sound of breaking glass as the world around them collapsed into countless glittering fragments.

Like shards of a cosmic mirror, the pieces spun violently through the void—each one reflecting distorted images of the woman, of Clark, and of endless possible realities.

And then, as they always did, the shards began to swirl inward, pulled by the unnatural force of the artifact, slowly trying to reassemble the domain into its original, perfect form.

But this time... something was different.

Something refused to let it happen.

"What?" the woman whispered, her voice strained.

The fragments halted.

Not slowed. Stopped.

The pieces hovered in the air like frozen stars, each one perfectly still.

The shattered domain remained broken—stuck between destruction and rebirth—and for the first time in eons, time within the mirror... did not move.

No wind. No breath. No heartbeat.

Everything had fallen into a profound, impossible stillness.

The woman’s expression faltered. Her brows furrowed. Her lips parted slightly, confused. Alarmed.

"What are you doing, Clark Colter?" she asked, her voice now sharper, laced with unease.

She had owned the Broken Mirror for time beyond counting.

Through the rise and fall of civilizations, through wars that had scarred heaven and earth, she had remained the sole master of its unfathomable power.

She had faced down the wielders of the other Nine Heavenly Treasures of Creation. Though she had never succeeded in seizing their relics—or their lives—she had always walked away unscathed.

But now...

This man dared to interfere with the mirror’s will. And somehow—somehow—he had done what none of her foes ever could.

He had stopped it.

She tried to move, to manipulate the mirror as she always had, but found herself strangely disconnected from it. Her will no longer resonated fully with its essence.

She attempted to retreat from the domain entirely, to phase through space and vanish into the seams of reality—as she had countless times before. ƒreewebɳovel.com

And yet the moment she prepared to leave, a pulse of warning ran through her.

Her eyes snapped toward the largest fragment of the mirror—still frozen midair, hovering just inches from Clark’s outstretched hand.

It was still connected to her... but barely.

If she left now—forcefully—if she abandoned the reformation of the domain in its current state... then a portion of the Broken Mirror’s power would be left behind.

Anchored.

Claimed.

By him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Could it be? Was this man capable of imprinting himself onto the mirror? Had he already begun to synchronize with it in that frozen moment, while everything else was held still?

The idea should’ve been impossible.

But here it was. Happening.

Clark stood tall amidst the silence, his fist still clenched, surrounded by the shimmering, unmoving debris of the broken world.

His expression was unreadable, his eyes locked on her—not with arrogance or malice, but with something even more unsettling.

Certainty.

"I see now," the woman murmured, more to herself than to him. "You’re not just resisting my domain. You’re rewriting it."

She felt the chill creep into her bones. She could still leave. She could cut her losses and escape intact—mostly intact.

But a piece of the Broken Mirror... her power, her legacy... would fall into the hands of Clark Colter.

And she knew, if that happened—if even a sliver of her treasure was claimed by another—

He would grow. Fast.

Possibly strong enough to challenge her again.

And next time... maybe he wouldn’t just break the mirror.

Maybe he’d break her.

The silence deepened.

And for the first time in countless millennia, the mistress of the Broken Mirror... hesitated.

"I’m at a disadvantage here," Clark said, cracking his knuckles, his voice laced with confidence. "I don’t even know your name."

It wasn’t just sarcasm. It was the truth. Even with all the memories he’d inherited from the previous owner of the Clay Brick—an ancient artifact of immense power—there was nothing about the Broken Mirror or its enigmatic master.

That man had never come close to this particular treasure, let alone crossed paths with its wielder.

Clark’s gaze swept across the fragmented dimension, calm despite the chaos.

"So, until you properly introduce yourself..." He smirked. "Let me just call you... Shadowy Bitch."

The moment hung in the air. His words echoed like a slap across a silent temple.

The woman—cloaked in flowing shadows, her form barely tangible—did not immediately react. But her fingers curled slightly, and the space around her warped with faint ripples. Annoyance. Fury, even.

But she said nothing.

"If you want so badly to entrap me here," Clark continued, stepping forward as if the fractured domain around him were a red carpet, "then I might as well get something from it."

He raised his fist again. This time, there was no casual bravado in his movement. His knuckles glowed faintly, veins coursing with qi as temporal energy twisted subtly around his arm.

There was purpose now—control—dominion.

Then—

"BANG!"

His fist collided with one of the larger fragments of the mirror, and a thunderous crack split the silence. The shard didn’t just break—it shattered, torn apart by the sheer pressure of his will.

Cracks spread like lightning across the entire domain.

Clark didn’t wait. He walked toward one of the tiniest fragments, floating at the edge of the collapse.

As his fingertips brushed its surface, a strange ripple of distortion spread outward—like ink in water—and in the blink of an eye...

He disappeared.

The woman didn’t move, didn’t speak, but her entire body tensed.

Then the world around her began to unravel.

"CRACK!"

The Broken Mirror shattered completely.

The entire domain buckled in on itself. What had once been a majestic, if eerie, alternate space filled with mirrored fragments of reality now turned into a swirling vortex of chaos.

Pieces of the mirror were hurled in every direction—reflections folding in on themselves like dying stars—until all that remained was ruin.

She hovered in the center of the wreckage, her cloak billowing, surrounded by a million fragments of her once-pristine treasure. For a long moment, she was silent.

Then she raised her hand.

And slowly, painstakingly, the shards began to pull back together—piece by piece, forming something akin to the original artifact.

But when it finished assembling, she frowned.

It was a mirror... and yet not. The artifact hovered in her hand like a ghost of its former self. Hairline cracks ran through its surface. Worse still, it was incomplete.

One piece was gone.

She turned her gaze, sensing the missing shard—floating distantly in the void, just outside her influence. She reached for it with her spiritual sense, poured her will into the command to return.

Nothing.

The fragment remained inert. It didn’t respond to her call.

She exerted more pressure—forcing, pushing, clawing for control—but the shard refused her. It drifted further away, like a boat sailing out of her reach.

Someone—Clark—had already begun the process of bonding with it.

"Damn him..." she whispered, brows furrowed. "His understanding of the Dao of Time... it surpasses mine."

That admission did not come lightly. She had wielded the Broken Mirror for longer than most civilizations had existed.

She had bent time, fragmented space, and even walked backward through forgotten moments.

And yet... in this one encounter, Clark Colter had not only resisted her domain—he had taken a piece of it with him.

The reality of it sank in, heavy and infuriating.

He had done what no wielder of the Heavenly Treasures had ever dared.

He had stolen from her.

She clenched her fists, the mirror trembling in her grasp.

She knew what it meant. That shard would now act as an anchor—tying Clark to the Broken Mirror. Over time, he would learn to manipulate it.

Even without the whole artifact, that single shard would grant him access to a fraction of its power. And worse... it meant he had established a foothold in the Dao of Time that she could no longer deny or fight against.

Her lips curled into a snarl.

"Curse you, Clark!"

The scream tore from her throat, echoing into the shattered void, swallowed by the silence of the collapsing dimension.

But there was no one left to hear her fury.

Clark was already gone.

Already vanished into a new world—another layer of reality—where time flowed differently and rules bent around his evolving presence.

The shard of the mirror floated near him, glowing faintly in his palm, humming with power.

And as he opened his eyes in this strange new place, his expression was calm.

Determined.

"I’ll return," he murmured to himself, "and next time... I’ll take the rest."