Doomsday Wonderland

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1233: Spring Onions? Sour Cream? Salt?

Chapter 1233: Spring Onions? Sour Cream? Salt?

Lin Sanjiu glanced at the item in the former guard’s hand.

Next to the seash.e.l.l-like rotating number screen, the former guard subconsciously rubbed the keys with his thumb. The keys had arrows pointing in different directions, and each one seemed to catch his gaze in turn. Seeing that Lin Sanjiu hesitated to accept it, he raised his head and said, “Huh? You don’t want it?”

Gong Daoyi had given her four or five Special Items at once, saving her from danger, but compared to the challenges waiting for her in the future, they might not be enough, let alone worth it. Lin Sanjiu stared at the unfamiliar item, which resembled a small seash.e.l.l, and for a moment, she could only hear her own repeated question—what awaited her in the future?

If she declined this item, would it lessen the severity of the impending negative event?

“Did he say anything else?” Lin Sanjiu deliberately avoided mentioning Ya Jiang’s name, preferring not to bring it up unnecessarily. After all, Puppeteer didn’t know that the unconscious sc.r.a.ps nearby was called Ya Jiang.

“Let me think.” The former guard hesitated when he saw her reluctance, as if he intended to return the item to his pocket as soon as she declined it. “Um… It’s strange that he didn’t give it to you directly… Oh, he did leave something else, as if he was preparing to leave at that time.”

“What did he say?” Lin Sanjiu asked impatiently, aware that Puppeteer, lying on the nearby hospital bed, had already cast a glance at their hushed conversation corner.

“‘I’ve given what I should. Whether she uses it or gives it to someone else, or it ends up in someone else’s hands, is beyond my concern,'” the former guard mumbled. “I think it was something like that.”

Whether she accepted it or not, Gong Daoyi was indifferent? Did she even have a choice?

He must have calculated it. Lin Sanjiu clenched her teeth and extended her hand to accept the Special Item. As the former guard turned away, it transformed into a card in her palm. With just a glance, she couldn’t help but be surprised, almost throwing it into the card inventory. It wasn’t a Special Item at all; it was just a long letter addressed to her.

[Custom-made for Lin Sanjiu]

I understand that you may not want to accept my help, so I’ve taken the liberty of offering it anyway. For that, I hope you can forgive me.

My adoptive mother used to grow a Dieffenbachia in a pot. When she first brought it home, it had only a few small leaves. I can’t recall how old I was back then, but I do remember checking on it every few days. Sometimes, the sunlight was hot and restless, casting slanted rays, while other times, the sky was overcast, and the light resembled thick fog. Requiring minimal care, it thrived on that windowsill, under ever-changing seasons and alternating light and clouds, gradually growing new leaves. The layers of color on those new leaves were genuinely beautiful, akin to the work of an Impressionist artist, never failing to impress me. Perhaps it thrived because it was nurtured by a kind person, making it just as wonderful.

I forgot about it as I grew up. However, in recent years, it came back to me—the vitality and vibrancy of those red-tinged leaves left a lasting impression on my younger self. My adoptive mother used to buy fresh flowers from the market in the mornings, but I never cared for them. To me, they were just future wilted blooms… Eventually, she stopped buying them. You remind me of that Dieffenbachia, and I find that quite appealing.

After parting ways in the Garden of Eden, I gradually learned tidbits about you (we do share a mutual acquaintance). I can’t say if my decision was impulsive, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. I’ve waited long enough. I believe you can meet my expectations and provide the outcome I desire. If the future proves me wrong, then I’ll have to accept that I’ve made a mistake, at long last.

Rather than being specifically written for her, this pa.s.sage seemed more like Gong Daoyi’s internal musings, muttered softly with his eyes closed. Even after reading every word, Lin Sanjiu remained perplexed about the crucial “expectations” and “outcome.” Only the final sentence lingered in her thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I cannot take away what you possess.”

Finally, there was an introduction about the item. Gong Daoyi mentioned that it was specially customized for her, and it appeared he wasn’t lying. As Lin Sanjiu read a few lines, her heart sank. The likelihood of her stubbornly refusing to use the item seemed extremely slim, almost non-existent. But given the current situation, it might not make a difference whether she used it or not, did it?

“Hey,” Bohemia called out to her in a hushed tone, snapping Lin Sanjiu back to reality. She realized that Puppeteer was still waiting. It was impossible for him to take the initiative and ask, “What are you looking at?” Consequently, in just a brief minute or two, the atmosphere in the patient room had grown as heavy as an impending storm. Lin Sanjiu pondered for a moment, then approached and extended the card.

“I won’t hide it from you,” she said, and noticing Puppeteer’s reluctance to move, she leaned the card forward. “Gong Daoyi left this behind.”

If Puppeteer willingly reached out to take it, that would raise suspicion. But Bohemia was cleverer than an otter when she wanted to be. She didn’t give Puppeteer the opportunity to turn someone into a puppet to hand him the card. Instead, she swiftly stepped forward, took the card, and pa.s.sed it to him with both hands, saying, “Take a look.”

“You might not understand why he said that both of us will need to use this item,” Lin Sanjiu said, feeling uneasy under the shadow of the impending future. She circled around. “This is a hospital pocket dimension in the Lava world. To leave, we still need to do one last thing.”

She tried her best to explain everything in detail, and regarding sensitive information, she either softened the details or avoided mentioning them altogether. Occasionally, she had Magus, who had collaborated with her and was still lingering in Puppeteer’s mind, corroborate some points. Thinking back, she felt that she may have spoken too soon when she said, “I won’t hide it from you.”

Throughout the conversation, Puppeteer’s reactions remained composed.

Even upon hearing that his head had disappeared, he only arched an eyebrow slightly, as if compared to his ultimate goal, everything else—the pocket dimension, the dangerous situation, being saved or not—were mere mundane events he had to endure.

“Now that you know the next steps,” Lin Sanjiu concluded, “why are you still sitting there?”

Upon completing her explanation, Puppeteer rose from the hospital bed. As he approached the door, he suddenly turned his head, a glint of cold light flas.h.i.+ng in his numbed and expressionless half of the face. “Since he eagerly wants you to use that disgusting thing,” he sneered, “don’t return his kindness.”

Lin Sanjiu, holding the card, let out a sigh, nodded to Bohemia, and exited the patient room. Even the former guard followed behind; although he feared Puppeteer, it appeared that he had also recognized that Puppeteer had no interest in him whatsoever. Puppeteer’s eyes showed no regard for him as a minor character. In such a situation, how could he miss this last opportunity to benefit a little?

With Puppeteer by their side, the atmosphere in the hospital underwent a complete transformation.

They didn’t encounter many posthumans along the way, and the ones they did meet were like rabbits catching the scent of a wolf, quickly vanis.h.i.+ng without a trace. The few who didn’t escape in time appeared honest, polite, and sincere, as if they were willing to immediately kneel and provide directions to the payment counter if they knew its location, or as if they were prepared to offer a kidney as compensation if they didn’t. Considering their combat prowess, Hei Zeji should have received similar treatment, but the difference was glaring. As Lin Sanjiu compared the two, she couldn’t help but feel that Hei Zeji had been cheated out of much-deserved respect too many times.

When they reached the payment counter, Puppeteer snorted derisively. “What was so challenging about this pocket dimension?”

Even Lin Sanjiu felt a bit irritated hearing that.

“The three of us will each take turns drawing lots,” she said, banging the counter to rouse the drowsy NPC. After glancing at the former guard, she added, “If there are any points left, we’ll add one more for him.”

The NPC leisurely produced a large, round plastic disc, seemingly worth no more than fifteen yuan before the doomsday.

In total, they drew lots four times, and the results were a mixed bag. Bohemia’s discharge mission wasn’t too difficult; she simply had to complete “Four transactions of any type with any other player,” which would be easy for their group. The former guard’s result was even better. Surprisingly, on his final draw, he obtained “Clean a patient room.”

Lin Sanjiu glanced at her and Puppeteer’s results, a bitter taste lingering in her mouth. She wasn’t sure if Gong Daoyi had foreseen this or if he had manipulated something to influence the outcomes. All she knew was that if she didn’t use that special item, she and Puppeteer would be trapped in the pocket dimension forever. Their tasks were “Devour 2,980 posthumans using lava” and “Undergo 37 major surgeries,” respectively.

“Hey, it seems like I misread the position of the pointer just now,” she said as she retrieved the Special Item, and the NPC’s expression suddenly s.h.i.+fted. The item’s power seemed to impact not the pocket dimension itself but the outcomes of the pocket dimension—specifically, their lottery results. The NPC lowered his head and examined it several times, growing increasingly uncertain with each look. “The pointer’s position differs from what I initially thought… Let’s try it again.”

Another attempt would increase their good luck tenfold. Gong Daoyi’s gift to her, even though it had a validity period of just three days, was remarkably generous in its effectiveness. On the second draw, both Lin Sanjiu and Puppeteer obtained favorable tasks. Her mission was “Find a new player and remind them of the precautions in the hospital,” while Puppeteer’s was even simpler: “Take a bite of a roasted potato.”

“I have one!” She produced a plump, round potato from her ever-expanding card inventory, momentarily forgetting the shadow cast by Gong Daoyi, and grinned at Puppeteer. “Do you want something to go with it? Spring onions? Sour cream? What about salt? Oh, actually, I don’t have sour cream.”