Doomsday Wonderland

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1581: Fake Turns Real

Chapter 1581: Fake Turns Real

As the doorbell rang, the two wooden doors slowly opened inward on their own. The person inside had been waiting for a long time. To the left of the entrance, a table was set up. The doorman, a Changeling who had already completed his transformation, was watching the computer screen on the table and reattaching the skin of his face. As Wu Yiliu walked in, he looked up and complained. “What took you so long? What were you doing wandering around outside?”

It seemed that the monitoring of NPCs with Special Items had indeed escalated a level, just as Wu Yiliu had expected.

“I couldn’t find the door,” Wu Yiliu mumbled. He knew it was a weak excuse, but he understood Changelings well enough.

The doorman impatiently waved him on, standing up amidst the jangling noise of a large bunch of keys hanging from his waist, and ordered, “Follow me.”

The doorman wasn’t authorized to receive the Special Item. Wu Yiliu obediently followed him through a low-ceilinged hall, with corridors leading somewhere on both sides. The doorman stopped at the entrance to the right-hand corridor, swiped a card, and the iron door opened.

Wu Yiliu felt as though he was being swallowed as he stepped into a s.p.a.cious hall with iron-gray walls. There were no lights around, and the walls were lost in shadow. The ceiling, holding the room’s only chandelier, rose to an astonis.h.i.+ng height of four or five stories within this single-story building. Was it an effect of a Special Item? Or some kind of ability?

Wu Yiliu wondered if it could be an ability because, seated directly across from the door, was a seemingly normal-looking stranger. Wu Yiliu eyed him carefully, finding him oddly familiar. After thinking, he realized that the man was not a stranger; they had met during NPC training, and he was one of the posthumans who provided the training.

However, at that time, his transformation had been severe, constantly twisting and warping. It was only during rare calm moments that Wu Yiliu recognized him. “Oh, Brother Pisces, it’s you.” He approached the table, extending his hand with a smile. “You’ve progressed so quickly. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

The posthuman, who seemed to have completed his transformation or was at least close to it, glanced at his hand but didn’t move. “You were at the training?” he asked disinterestedly. “Alright, where’s the donation? Give it to me.”

The doorman didn’t leave but took out his phone instead, aiming it at the two of them. Wu Yiliu, confused, reached into his pocket for the paper crane. As he handed it over, he looked at the doorman and suddenly understood.

When receiving a donation in the fake pocket dimension, a posthuman had to inspect it, but the Changelings didn’t trust the posthumans – or anyone, for that matter – so they needed to keep a record. Indeed, as Wu Yiliu handed over the paper crane, the doorman’s phone clicked several times.

It seemed that the hall was indeed the effect of a Special Item or perhaps the Item itself, so they couldn’t install surveillance cameras inside.

Pisces played with the paper crane’s wings for a moment. “Donating this? How embarra.s.sing,” he said, snorting. “Which point is it from?”

“Section 1, Gate B, No. 1,” Wu Yiliu replied.

“Section 1, Gate B, No. 1!” Pisces shouted into the shadows.

What was going on?

Wu Yiliu was still puzzled when the sound of metal rolling on tracks filled his ears, like a giant drawer being pulled open. As he realized what was happening, a long drawer slid out from the shadows and stopped next to Pisces.

Wu Yiliu was stunned. Was this another Special Item? And the Changelings had so many of them in their possession?

The drawer was the size of a regular desk drawer but unusually long, and Wu Yiliu’s gaze followed it back into the shadows, unable to see where it came from. A piece of paper labeled “Section 1, Gate B, No. 1” was attached to the handle, and the drawer was empty.

When Pisces tossed the paper crane inside, the doorman took several more photos.

Was this what a real Special Item was like? Wu Yiliu gaped as the drawer retracted into the shadows. He turned and complimented Pisces, saying, “Brother Pisces, this item is amazing.”

The posthuman’s face fell, not physically, but he looked upset as if a painful secret had been touched. “Stop talking nonsense; you can leave now,” he snapped, then cursed under his breath.

Ah, so this item didn’t belong to him.

Then where was his Special Item?

Having completed his transformation, Pisces had likely lost his evolved ability. Wu Yiliu had been perplexed by this for a while. Could someone without abilities continue to retain their Special Items? Was that possible?

“Okay, I’m leaving now,” Wu Yiliu said, smiling at him. “Next time I receive donations, I’ll give them to you, Brother Pisces.” He put emphasis on the word “you,” but not too obviously, and quickly lightened it.

The Changeling posthuman didn’t react for a moment and impatiently said, “It’s not for me—”

His voice suddenly stopped, and he looked up.

Wu Yiliu’s eyes had been waiting for him, tightly capturing his gaze. The two locked eyes, neither speaking, but the implication was clearly exchanged between them.

After losing his abilities, a Changeling couldn’t resist touching his things, could he? Even if not all was confiscated temporarily, surely some part had been “requisitioned” under various names?

As a posthuman, he must be very uncomfortable, wanting the Special Item—just now he was almost furious.

NPCs accessed donations, so they could be of help.

Wu Yiliu still didn’t know exactly what to do next. He was like a wild animal walking in the dark, feeling its way by instinct, and seizing the opportunity as soon as it saw it.

Pisces slightly frowned, his face changing from surprise after understanding the hint, to confusion and suspicion. Obviously, he couldn’t figure out how Wu Yiliu could secretly swallow the Special Item, and why he wanted to benefit him.

But at this moment, the guard had already approached. Wu Yiliu turned and followed him out of the gate. Before the iron gate closed, he seemed to feel Pisces’s eyes sticking to his back.

“Come on, thank you,” he said, handing a cigarette to the guard as he left. He didn’t smoke; this one was given to him by an NPC responsible for the fake pocket dimension bar during training, and he saved it, thinking it might be useful.

If the guard didn’t smoke, it would be hard to talk; fortunately, he accepted it without a word.

“Big brother, you work hard,” Wu Yiliu said. He knew how to sweet-talk, although his technique was a bit rusty. “Almost off work?”

“Three more hours,” the guard said, pinning the cigarette to his ear, looking a bit more relaxed. “Can’t smoke on duty.”

“I’m from the candy house. If I get a chance, I’ll bring you some cookies.” Wu Yiliu smiled, pointing to the corridor they’d just left. “Those posthumans… do they live here?”

“What posthuman? You just give him face.” The guard laughed, glancing inside, as if to give Pisces a piece of his mind through the door. “Haven’t seen them do anything remarkable, swaggering in and out, not even greeting people when changing s.h.i.+fts, walking with their eyes on their foreheads.”

It seemed they didn’t live here and had to leave. Wu Yiliu felt a bit more certain and casually inquired a few more things. Whether he needed the information now or not, he squeezed them out with a bone-marrow-sucking way.

Usually, an NPC couldn’t linger too long, but as long as he could ask one more question, or if the guard hadn’t urged him to leave, he didn’t want to go. Unfortunately, the guard suddenly looked at his screen and said, “Oh, you should go. Someone is coming.”

“So busy,” Wu Yiliu said, grasping at straws. “Who?”

“Some more of those posthuman types, I guess. There’s a saying, ‘Not my kind—kind—'” the guard couldn’t remember. He seemed to forget that Wu Yiliu wasn’t his “kind” either.

But why “guess”? Wasn’t he sure?

Wu Yiliu had just floated up this doubt when the guard pressed a b.u.t.ton on the table, and the gate opened. More than one person was coming from outside, and their conversation wasn’t affected by the opening and closing of the gate. The words drifting in quickly made Wu Yiliu realize that he knew the people coming in.

He knew every one of them coming in.

“Really, I was shocked when I knew—” The gaunt woman’s voice entered first, much different from the training, like a flower suddenly blooming from dry soil. “But anyway, we’re comfortable, aren’t we?”

“You’re not wrong; the ma.s.sage technique was pretty good. I feel relaxed all over now.”

As this sentence entered the hall with the footsteps, Wu Yiliu had already thought quickly, turned to the guard’s table, and pretended to kneel down to tie his shoelaces. The consular officer he’d seen once in the bas.e.m.e.nt, accompanied by the gaunt woman and another posthuman he’d seen during training, walked grandly into the hall, pa.s.sing by the two small Changelings without a glance.

“So, you must understand why we want to invite you to stay. This is good for everyone; otherwise, the fake pocket dimension will always be fake. Although it’s running smoothly now, it feels a bit unsettling…”

Wu Yiliu’s fingers froze on his shoelaces.

What did she mean? Did he hear wrong?

Were they looking for a way to make the fake pocket dimension real?