Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1323: Missing Person Flyer

When Wu Lun’s gaze fell on Lin Sanjiu, she opened her mouth as if to say something. However, after the two entered the room, she remained silent and closed her mouth.

“You’re here,” she whispered, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “Who is he?”

“He’s a posthuman I just met,” Lin Sanjiu briefly introduced him as she approached the bed. She lowered her voice and asked, “What happened with the accident? Are you injured?”

“I have a concussion, the doctor said,” Wu Lun said weakly. “My body is fine, just some bruises… A car hit us from behind while we were halfway in a taxi. I hit my head.”

She seemed to have been through quite a bit. Without proper rest, her eyes were dark, with bruised circles underneath. Her voice was dry and hoarse, and even her expression seemed dazed. No wonder Lin Sanjiu was startled when she saw her just now.

1

“They said I passed out for a while… When I woke up, I forgot about us posting advertisements,” Wu Lun said.

“Isn’t that serious?”

Wu Lun seemed to want to nod but restrained herself, considering her condition. Her slightly swollen pale face, buried in the black hair on the pillow, seemed as if it would fade away with another sigh. “The doctor said it’s normal,” she said weakly as if reciting lines. “I remembered it slowly in the evening and then remembered to ask the night nurse for a phone… I didn’t expect you to come right after you answered the call.”

Following her gaze, Lin Sanjiu saw Wu Lun’s phone still charging on the cabinet beside the bed, plugged into a charger that was probably borrowed.

“It’s good that you’re okay,” Lin Sanjiu recalled her worry. “I searched for you all the way home, couldn’t find you, and I was worried you might have been kidnapped.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Wu Lun only moved her mouth slightly as if smiling. Her gaze circled around He Huan, a bit wary, and she whispered, “Did you… find each other through that missing person flyer? Is he r-really another posthuman?”

She still seemed to find it hard to believe that Lin Sanjiu was a posthuman and not mentally ill.

“Yes,” Lin Sanjiu replied. “He won’t harm you, don’t worry.”

He Huan didn’t seem like the kind of posthuman who would harm people casually, which was quite a relief to her. She was prepared to deal with all sorts of unpleasant characters, but having He Huan as the first person to join them was unexpectedly reassuring.

“What are you going to do next?” Wu Lun asked softly.

Lin Sanjiu had already discussed this question with He Huan on her way here. As she inferred, since posthumans were being teleported to this world, it indicated that it was part of the doomsday world system. Essentially, it should be possible to communicate messages with other doomsday worlds.

What they needed to do was to find loopholes in this airtight world, and to achieve this, they needed more manpower and information.

“We’ll continue spreading advertisements to find more posthumans for now,” she said, tucking Wu Lun into bed, and glanced at the time on her phone. It was already 4:15 AM on June 10th. Wu Lun had mentioned earlier that she could be discharged by 10 AM today. Although she should rest for another day or two, she insisted on leaving the hospital early because she couldn’t afford the cost of staying another day.

For Lin Sanjiu, a posthuman who had a thousand banknotes with the same serial number, there was nothing she could do about it.

“Don’t worry about these things. You can sleep for another six hours now, and I’ll come to pick you up then,” she said, smiling at Wu Lun. “I won’t mess around. Your world will definitely hold on until you’re discharged.”

“Not funny at all,” Wu Lun muttered, burying herself under the pillow and blanket.

Though He Huan didn’t have much money either, he managed to get himself a decent apartment much closer to the hospital than Wu Lun’s home. Lin Sanjiu simply went back with him — there were too many things they needed to understand about each other.

1

When He Huan poured himself a glass of whiskey, the sky outside the window was getting lighter. The dim blue seeped through the glass, casting a misty, warm, and cold hue in his dimly lit living room.

“Since being teleported here, I hate dawn the most,” he said softly, looking out the window. “Day after day, it wears me down like a grinding stone, and I can do nothing about it.”

He Huan tilted his head back and downed the whiskey, his eyes and lips faintly reddening as the glass with ice cubes returned to the table. His delicate features looked like petals falling on satin, but H his refined appearance belied his almost sharp decisiveness when speaking and acting: “Let’s get down to business. Your idea of advertising to find posthumans is good.”

Lin Sanjiu waited for him to continue.

“But relying on money to buy ads is not practical,” He Huan sighed, seemingly reminded of something. “You’ve been here for a short time and don’t understand this place well. YouDo you know how tightly controlled even phone numbers are, let alone money? Even if you rob a bank now and manage to get, let’s say, a million, unless you spend it slowly, one by one, the money will just rot in your hands.”

“Why?”

“Any monetary transaction over ten thousand must go through bank transfer,” He Huan chuckled, leaning back on the sofa. Despite drinking, he seemed to have a low alcohol tolerance. “That’s their law… For amounts above this, every transaction must have a clear source and destination, leaving a trace. If you take a bag of cash to a TV station for advertising, they can report you to the police.”

“But it’s still cash, hard currency. Even with such regulations, there must be people willing to accept it, right?” Lin Sanjiu asked. After all, didn’t Han Jun say he robbed an armored car?

“If the people you’re dealing with are not on the straight and narrow, then yes, some might accept it. Of course, the value might be reduced considerably.” He Huan explained, “But legitimate business people who accept money ultimately have to deposit it in the bank, right? Without proper records, the bank can confiscate it on the spot. Money not in the bank is as good as not yours because you can’t spend much of it. Even if others are willing to accept your cash, most of the time, you won’t dare to give it.”

“What do you mean?” Lin Sanjiu was puzzled.

“Large cash transactions are unprotected. Once you hand over the money and they receive it, they can easily claim they never received it… and when the police come, they’ll arrest you first. So, over time, no ordinary person accepts large cash transactions. So, will we wander the world looking for underground connections and ways to launder money just for advertising? That’s taking the long route.”

Indeed, Han Jun mentioned that he met many people in the underworld when he robbed the armored car. It seemed that was the reason. Although she didn’t know why he was confident he could digest even sixteen million, Lin Sanjiu couldn’t contact him now.

“Similarly, jewelry, gold, and precious stones are worthless without purchase documents or quality certificates. It’s probably faster to pick up wallets,” He Huan chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Isn’t there that red crystal in Twelve Worlds? I wanted to try my luck, but as soon as I entered the store, they asked for my ID and various documents.”

Lin Sanjiu listened in disbelief.

“So, in this world, the most valuable things are not money or gold and jewelry,” He Huan gestured a circle in the air with his hand. “The most valuable things are the seals stamped by the authorities. Seals from various departments, various procedures, countless seals. Without them, your money isn’t money, and you’re not a person.”

1

Lin Sanjiu took a deep breath, feeling as if she was bound tightly by thick spider silk all over her body, unable to catch her breath. She shifted her body, subconsciously confirming that she could still move, then asked, “So, what’s your idea?”

“Don’t think too complicatedly,” He Huan said thoughtfully. “Why not just go directly to the advertising agencies? We have plenty of force; it’s simple to make someone like a TV station manager submit, isn’t it? Others pay with money for their services; we pay with their own lives.”

After all, he was a posthuman. Although he mostly restrained himself when facing ordinary people, he didn’t hesitate when he needed to be ruthless.

“Let’s do that then,” Lin Sanjiu nodded, feeling somewhat relieved.

The two discussed their plan for a while and assigned tasks. By the time they finished, the sky was already bright. When Lin Sanjiu brought Wu Lun home, they had been up for a day and a night, and she hadn’t had a chance to practice Higher Consciousness again—due to the time constraints. Although the damaged part of her Higher Consciousness was not much, she wasn’t sure if she could make up for it through practice. Even Mrs. Manas couldn’t be certain.

However, she wasn’t feeling down about it. Since coming to this world, she finally had motivation, direction, and companionship; she would definitely be able to transmit the information until the day the grand prize came to pick her up.

“What are you going to do?”

When Lin Sanjiu was about to go out again, Wu Lun poked her head out from under the covers, looking grumpy.

“There are still quite a few ads left,” she said, shaking the stack of papers in her hand. “Before He Huan’s plan starts, I want to try to put up as many as possible.”

Wu Lun hesitated and asked, “Can I go with you?”

How could she let a patient who had just been in a car accident follow her around? Lin Sanjiu walked over, stuffed the blanket under her, and wrapped her tightly into a roll; the human burrito couldn’t resist and couldn’t help laughing inside the blanket — Lin Sanjiu then instructed, “Stay put. I’ll be back after I finish.”

As she descended the stairs, Lin Sanjiu saw a half-bald head from a distance. Her gaze lingered on the person’s back for a few seconds before continuing outside the community; she still used the deliberately altered gait, walking slowly and laboriously. Since she planned to put up ads in more distant places this time, she simply took a bus to the city center. While on the bus, she also received a call from Wu Lun, who was chatting as she traveled. It wasn’t boring at all.

After getting off the bus, Lin Sanjiu stopped before the first utility pole she saw but didn’t start putting up ads.

Because there was already a missing person flyer on this utility pole.

“Please help me find my husband!”

Under this headline was a picture of Han Jun. The first paragraph read, “He left home for something urgent, called me on the morning of June 6th, asking me to meet him somewhere, and has been missing since then. He was wearing a blue shirt when he left home.”