Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1322: The Unharmed Wu Lun

“Hello? Is… this Lin Sanjiu?”

Wu Lun’s voice sounded weak, and her thick nasal tone momentarily made Lin Sanjiu think she was crying.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you alright? Where are you?”

The girl on the other end of the phone sniffed and whispered, “I’m fine, nothing serious. I got into a car accident this afternoon, and my phone ran out of battery. I’m at the hospital now.”

This was an answer that Lin Sanjiu never would have guessed. However, as soon as she heard it, she immediately interrupted Wu Lun, “Wait a moment.”

Now that she knew Wu Lun was still safe, the urgent needle suddenly turned to another direction.

She glanced at the young man opposite her and the crowd behind him, who was still replaying the same conversation over and over again; in the early hours of the morning, apart from the lively atmosphere near the bar, the rest of the area remained quiet and peaceful, so it was difficult to determine the extent of the coverage of this ‘rewind’ effect.

“I don’t have any ill intentions toward you,” she hurriedly said, and Wu Lun made a sound of surprise on the phone. This young man’s refusal to call her but waiting for her to appear here showed that he was full of doubts about other posthumans and must not be allowed to retreat. She suggested, “I just want to find companions to leave this world together. If you’re willing to talk, let’s go up.”

With that, Lin Sanjiu pointed to the sky—along the way, she had had enough of being watched by hundreds of cameras.

“Up…upstairs?” the young man was puzzled.

“No,” Lin Sanjiu said. “On top of the street lamp.”

For two posthumans who were meeting for the first time and testing each other, street lamps were really convenient. Their advantages were obvious: there were no obstacles in the air, making it difficult to lay ambushes; the foothold was very small, making it difficult to fight; and the distance was stretched out, making it difficult to ambush. If something went wrong, there was nowhere to hide in all directions, and anywhere could be an escape route.

However, the young man looked reluctant when he looked up at the street lamp. He pursed his lips for half a second, and his tone was dry and fast when he spoke again. “I’ll go up now.”

As Lin Sanjiu leaped two leaps on the lamppost using Higher Consciousness and landed on top, she looked down, only then realizing why the young man’s expression was troubled.

“Send me your hospital address, and I’ll come find you immediately,” Lin Sanjiu hastily said into her still-connected phone, not waiting for Wu Lun to speak again. She added a quick “I have something to deal with here” and hung up the phone.

For most posthumans, climbing to the height of a street lamp was not very difficult, but that was under the premise of ‘abilities not deteriorating.’ The young man seemed to have been in this world for a while now. His abilities had begun to decline—he hesitated for a few seconds standing on the ground, then raised his hand and threw a rope towards the lamppost; the rope fell off before it even touched the top of the lamppost the first time, and only on the second attempt did it manage to coil around the section of the lamppost that hung down.

He secured the rope around his waist, grasped it with both hands and began climbing up the pole. As he climbed higher, it became more difficult, slipping several times, almost falling, and taking two or three minutes to reach the top. Even after reaching the top, it didn’t mean he could stand steadily; the young man crouched on the lamppost, gripping the pole tightly with both hands, then let out a breath, his breathing becoming slightly heavy.

His face was a mix of green and white, and he seemed to remember something momentarily. Then he remained silent, just staring blankly at his feet dangling in the air and the ground floating beneath him.

“You don’t realize until you climb it,” he said, raising his head and lightly laughing. “I didn’t expect my physical strength to deteriorate to this extent in four or five months.”

Lin Sanjiu wanted to comfort him but couldn’t find the words.

The two remained silent for a few seconds. The young man extended his hand and snapped his fingers. The heads on the ground, resembling little black bugs, suddenly broke free from the bound loop of reincarnation and began to scatter and gather around. They turned around and shouted from time to time, “Where did he go? Who saw him leave?”

“Very impressive,” Lin Sanjiu sincerely praised. “Is this your ability?”

“No, it’s a Special Item.” The young man shook his head and said, “Actually, it’s mainly a time-attack item for duoluozhong. Ordinary people are just an additional effect… duoluozhongs won’t be trapped for as long like them, and it has no effect on posthumans. It’s actually a pretty useless thing, but it came in handy unexpectedly after coming here.”

Lin Sanjiu’s mouth opened slightly, somewhat enlightened. ‘Duoluozhong,’ ‘time attack.’ She had only been in this world for four or five days, but it felt like a distant world when she heard posthumans talk about these things again.

“Meeting another posthuman again is really great,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief and feeling a little feverish. “I’ve only met the former posthumans who became ordinary people.”

“I’ve met about three or four,” the young man had regained his composure, his voice coming from another lamppost not far away. “It seems that the larger the city and the more people there are, the higher the probability of encountering posthumans.”

“Do you know a lot about this world?”

“For the past four or five months, I’ve been looking for a way to maintain my abilities, and in the process of gathering information, I’ve come to understand this world a bit.” The young man spoke clearly and softly, “My name is He Huan.”

“Lin Sanjiu.” Out of politeness, she also gave her name.

The young man nodded, seeming unsure of where to start. Lin Sanjiu asked, “Do you want to stay or leave?”

He Huan shook his head, as if looking at a student who had yet to master the lesson content. “You speak as if we have a choice… According to the records of previous people I’ve found, we can’t leave unless you can successfully create doomsday in this world.”

It seemed that all posthumans who understood the situation and wanted to leave would think of this method first.

“No, maybe there’s another way.” Lin Sanjiu stared at him, asking, “If you’re really resigned to living in this place, you wouldn’t have torn down my missing person flyer, right?”

He Huan chuckled, rubbing his neck, and a few messy strands of hair blew onto his face in the night breeze.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

Lin Sanjiu explained her idea of sending a message to the outside world, saying, “However, all the communication tools I have are currently unusable, so I need to gather more people together to help.”

“Just need to send a message to Twelve Worlds…?” He Huan pondered for a moment, and then when he raised his head again, his eyes sparkled in the night.

“If it’s just sending a message, the likelihood of success is much greater than destroying the world,” he seemed excited, speeding up his speech a bit. “But after the message is sent, then what?”

“Somebody will come to pick me up,” Lin Sanjiu said word by word. “No matter when I manage to send the message, someone will come for me once it’s sent. Then everyone can leave with me.”

“Really?” Although He Huan looked gentle and mild, his decisiveness was admirable. After thinking for a few seconds, he immediately climbed up from the lamppost, decisively saying, “Let’s do it! Even if I do nothing, my abilities are gradually fading… It’s worth a try.”

Lin Sanjiu breathed a sigh of relief. “Aren’t you afraid I’m lying to you?” she asked.

“In a world where everyone will eventually regress to ordinary people, the first to come may deceive the latter, but the reverse is illogical.” He Huan was not only decisive but also seemed to think quickly, saying, “You need to benefit from lying to me. Now that my abilities and items are all starting to deteriorate, I’m no match for you. If you’re going to rob me of my possessions, you could just do it. Apart from that, you and I are like two grasshoppers on the same rope, so what’s the point of lying to me?”

It seemed that she was quite lucky. The first posthuman she met wasn’t the paranoid and suspicious type whose logical reasoning was clouded by paranoia—Lin Sanjiu thought with a bit of luck. Just then, there was a commotion on the ground again; she looked down and saw police cars flashing their lights from afar, approaching with their sirens blaring.

The figures at the bar entrance immediately stopped spinning in circles and went to meet them.

“Why did you deliberately make them call the police?” He Huan lowered his head to look at the noisy crowd below, remembering this question.

Now that she had reestablished contact with Wu Lun, Lin Sanjiu naturally didn’t need to go to the police bureau to check the surveillance footage; she checked her phone and found that Wu Lun had indeed sent a text message with the hospital address and room number.

“Long story, but I don’t need it anymore now,” she replied briefly. She asked, “I need to find an ordinary friend I know here. If you don’t mind, you can come with me, and we can chat along the way.”

He Huan had no objections to this. The two waited for the crowd below to disperse, then returned to the ground and avoided the bar from afar. At He Huan’s suggestion, they hailed a taxi. The slight discomfort she felt toward taxis was all because of Wu Lun, but now that she knew she had only been in an accident, Lin Sanjiu couldn’t find a reason not to use this very convenient mode of transportation.

With He Huan’s Special Item, the two easily entered the hospital. Wu Lun was arranged in a double room, and because it was late, the lights had already been turned off. Lin Sanjiu called out softly, “Wu Lun, it’s me,” as she pushed the door. The light from the corridor poured into the dark room, illuminating the bed near the door and Wu Lun’s sleepless eyes, which were as dark as black holes.

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