Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1339: Copper Harbor

When Deng Yilan walked out of the newspaper building, she missed a step on the stairs, stumbled, and fell. Her coccyx hit the ground with a dull sound, sending a sharp pain through her head.

Breathing heavily, she sat on the ground for a few seconds, still feeling dizzy. Her shin was scraped and bleeding when she fell. As she looked up, she noticed people nearby staring at her, but when they saw her looking back, they quickly turned away and left.

Deng Yilan hadn’t cried for many days, and now her eyes were dry. This was the fourth media company she had asked for, and just like before, she came up empty-handed. No one could tell her what the Twelve Worlds were or who requested the advertisement. The staff seemed unaware as well, being evasive when questioned further. If she pressed them, she would only incur impatience or even anger.

Several media companies from out of town were still on the list, but Deng Yilan had lost hope in them.

But she had to try.

Otherwise, what should she do?

As Deng Yilan got up from the ground, she heard her phone ringing in her bag. She was taken aback. It could be a telemarketing call. Since Han Jun’s death had been concluded, hardly anyone contacted her anymore, and her parents had returned home, unaware that she hadn’t been going to work recently.

It was an unfamiliar number. She answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Miss Deng?” a harsh female voice from the other end said, without even a greeting, as if she wanted to push Deng Yilan with her voice alone. “Are you the one looking for someone named… Han Jun? He’s your husband, right?”

At that moment, Deng Yilan thought she had been dreaming all this time and that Han Jun hadn’t actually died.

His name spoken by a living person seemed to bring him back, especially since the sentence did not contain words of condolence, just proof that he was still alive. She was momentarily dazed and forgot to respond, but the woman continued, “I saw the missing person flyer you posted!”

A bucket of cold water poured over her, and Deng Yilan snapped back to reality. “Yes, but—”

“I have something important to tell you in person.”

“Okay—okay—”

Deng Yilan was desperate to know what had happened to him after he disappeared and hastily gave the address of a cafe near her residential area. As soon as she hung up, she rushed home, her heart pounding. What had Han Jun done?

She waited at the cafe for fifteen minutes, tearing several sugar packets into a pile of crumbs. The woman called again, “I’m at the entrance of your residential area. Come over.”

Deng Yilan returned to the entrance and, from a distance, saw a woman with bandages on her head and two men behind her. One of them noticed her and pointed at her, saying something. The woman with the head injury walked briskly toward Deng Yilan and shouted, “Miss Deng?”

“It’s me… who are you?”

The two men surrounded her. “I’ve been looking for your husband for a long time. Look.” The woman, about the same age and size as Deng Yilan, pointed to the bandage on her forehead, angry, “This is what he did.”

Deng Yilan took a moment to process. “Han Jun hit someone?”

“What are you pretending not to know for? On the 6th, I was supposed to go on a cruise happily, but your husband attacked me!” The injured woman grew angrier as she spoke, her spit splashing on Deng Yilan’s face. “He knocked me out, my head hit the wall, and he took my ticket—what do you have to say as his family?”

“How could he do that?”

As Deng Yilan spoke, her anger suddenly subsided. She remembered saying on the phone, “I have to buy the ticket first,” and Han Jun replied, “You don’t have to worry about that; just come, and I’ll arrange the ticket for you.”

So, it was indeed him who attacked and stole the ticket.

It was surprising, indeed, but deep down, she felt like it was something Han Jun would do. Not because he was violent, but when he wanted to solve a problem, it seemed like the legal norms couldn’t stop him.

“I called the police at the time. Now you can check the records. I’m not making this up!” The injured woman saw her softened attitude and became even more aggressive. “Your husband needs to come out; medical expenses, compensation for mental distress, loss of work, he has to compensate me, or I’ll call the police now!”

“But… he’s already dead.”

The woman paused, unsure if she was surprised or disbelieving, and immediately said, “Then you compensate!”

Deng Yilan had never encountered such a situation in her life. Her brain has long become a mess. For the next half an hour, she only remembered her ears buzzing from the yelling of the other three, and the fear that arose after she asked for the compensation figure. She hadn’t gone to work, and if she took out so much of her savings, what would she do to continue to look for clues to Han Jun’s death? Her parents would never pay for her to “fool around”.

She tried to lower the compensation amount, but the woman said, “Am I rich? I borrowed money for medical expenses. Doesn’t borrowed money require interest? It keeps piling up. Do you know how much I owe? You have to pay for it all, not a penny less.”

To Deng Yilan’s surprise, the negotiation failed, and the three people refused to leave. They followed her home, one man blocking the door and another pushing her inside. They occupied the sofa, and the two men didn’t bother to ask her, pulling out peanuts from under the coffee table to eat and leaving peanut shells all over the floor.

Deng Yilan was shaking with anger but she knew Han Jun was in the wrong. Her accusations were soft, like “My husband was wrong, but you can’t do this,” or “This is my home; you have no right to come in.” She felt powerless.

At around eleven in the evening, with the three still refusing to leave, she finally couldn’t bear it and called the police.

“They didn’t hit you or insult you, right? If your husband injured someone and they want compensation privately, it’s only right. You should negotiate actively to resolve the issue. It’s bad for the deceased’s reputation if it gets out of hand. Have you thought about that?” A young man with glasses came to educate her, “If someone is injured, they must be compensated. Besides, you’re his wife.”

By half-past twelve, the injured woman seemed a little impatient.

She yawned a few times, sent a few messages on her phone, and then turned to the two men and said, “I’m still injured. It’s too late, so why don’t—”

“It’s okay, sis, you go back first.” One man playing with his phone didn’t even look up, saying, “We’ll stay here.”

The other one, watching TV with his legs spread out, said, “We’re quite comfortable here; we can stay for a week.”

Deng Yilan almost jumped up on the spot—alone with two strange men at such a late hour? But she knew no one would listen to her among the three. When she saw the woman about to leave, her chest felt like it was about to explode, but she couldn’t think of a solution; her blood was rushing, and she couldn’t even feel herself standing on the ground.