Doomsday Wonderland

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1446: Isn’t It Polite to Shake Hands?

Chapter 1446: Isn’t It Polite to Shake Hands?

“Do you see the cake inside?” Lin Sanjiu asked, holding the back of the Artist’s head and pointing at the car window. The Artist seemed dazed when given any command other than to draw. She rummaged through the card inventory for a while before she found the chocolate cake card the Artist had drawn in the family pocket dimension. “Isn’t this card the same as that? You drew it, didn’t you?”

Even without asking the Artist, she was already 70-80% sure. It was just that the reality seemed so surreal that she felt the need to confirm with the Artist himself.

The Artist moved his gaze between the car window and the card a few times before nodding. His expression looked like his entire worldview had crumbled—if he even had one.

Lin Sanjiu patted his shoulder in sympathy. As a Special Item whose innate duty was to transform real objects into drawings, the realization that his drawings could, in turn, become real must have been both bewildering and shocking, much like her feelings at that moment.

She flicked the cake card with her fingernail, her eyes fixated on the cake inside the car. However, it didn’t move an inch.

“Draw me another one,” she said, handing him a blank card. “This time, draw something… um, easy to spot. Draw a skysc.r.a.per.”

The skysc.r.a.per card was completed within minutes. Lin Sanjiu described its details and locked them in. However, even when she climbed up a utility pole, she saw no skysc.r.a.per suddenly rise from the ground.

“Strange.” She ma.s.saged her temples, feeling that the list of strange occurrences was too long. She did not know where to start—every situation defied common sense.

If this place was her card inventory, how did Advaita get her in here? And if it wasn’t her card inventory, why would the chocolate cake the Artist drew appear here?

It seemed she had to ask Advaita.

“The question is, how do I get out?” Lin Sanjiu circled back to this problem, her hand buried in her messy hair, her mind buzzing. When alone, she talked to herself more and communicated with Mrs. Manas in her mind, hating the silence that felt as if she was the only person left in the world.

This s.p.a.ce couldn’t be broken from the inside because nothing had the time to achieve a broken state. She could convert intangible energy into cards but not the conceptual s.p.a.ce. Trapped in this unique cage, she couldn’t make a sound, let alone regain her freedom. Even with Conscious Mimicry activated to think like Ji Shanqing, Lin Sanjiu was at a loss.

‘After all, I’m not Ji Shanqing. Some knowledge is just beyond grasp. Even if I change my way of thinking, I still won’t know.’

She contemplated in her grand prize mindset for a few minutes, then eventually turned off the mimicry to conserve her mental energy.

“Can I really not get out of here on my own?”

She paused for a moment, filled with unwillingness and resentment. After all, Advaita aimed to capture Silvan and take him back. It’s uncertain whether she would use her as leverage. If Silvan were to suffer because of her, how could Lin Sanjiu forgive herself?

She jumped up, emptied all the items from the card inventory, and canceled their card transformation. They piled up into a small mountain in the parking lot. As the useless humanoid Special Items chatted among themselves, she, like a mole, searched inside and out of the mountain. After carefully examining each card, she would then store it back into the card inventory, fearing that she might miss something useful.

By the time the mountain had been reduced by half, the only potentially useful thing she found was a communication device from the Munitions Factory, which she didn’t remember collecting.

Silvan should also have a Munitions Factory communicator, right? Could it communicate across different s.p.a.ces?

The communicator functioned similarly to a simplified mobile phone. It would be troublesome if it worked exactly like a phone, especially since she didn’t know Silvan’s number. Lin Sanjiu turned on the communicator and saw a green light flash, followed by a man’s voice from within.

“Munitions Factory Communication Station, please report your identification number.”

So, the communication system of this device was still managed by the remaining Munitions Factory divisions?

Lin Sanjiu looked at it, a bit dumbfounded. She never expected that the Munitions Factory, using communication technology that could ignore geographical distances, would still be paired with old-fas.h.i.+oned telephone operators. Now what? She surely couldn’t say, “Can you help me contact Silvan, the most wanted fugitive from the Munitions Factory who took over the entire Heaven Underworld division?” could she?

“h.e.l.lo?” the operator urged. “Are you a member of the Munitions Factory?”

“Um, wait a moment,” she said and hurriedly dove back into the pile. She distinctly remembered catching a glimpse of it earlier. “I have a poor memory and can’t remember things. Let me search…”

She found it. Her eyes landed on a deep blue line, and she hastily pulled it out from underneath the pile of miscellaneous items—it was the uniform jacket Silvan had replicated for her to wear.

Did this uniform have the identification number? Generally, soldiers’ or police officers’ uniforms did. Perhaps the Munitions Factory was no exception.

Lin Sanjiu held the communicator in one hand and flipped open her jacket with the other to inspect it. However, she couldn’t find anything that looked like an identification number. The operator waited a while, then became impatient and said, “Below the b.u.t.ton on your cuff! Are you a rookie?”

It appeared he had picked up the sound of her flipping her clothes. Maybe the communication station didn’t need to guard against outsiders. Regardless, Lin Sanjiu silently thanked the operator for his lack of vigilance and followed his instructions. “5, 9, 6… 3, uh, 2.”

She realized she couldn’t accurately recite Silvan’s identification number and quickly added another digit. The operator misunderstood, asking, “Is it 59632? Just five digits… You’ve been here for a while, yet you still can’t remember?”

Did the number of digits imply how long one had been a member? Lin Sanjiu immediately grasped the implied meaning—so, if Silvan’s identification number only had four digits, how long had he been in the Munitions Factory?

“Identification verification pa.s.sed. Which communication would you like to connect to?”

‘How the h.e.l.l would I know?’

Lin Sanjiu felt that all the fuss she had gone through just now was unnecessary. Apart from not knowing anyone, even if she did connect to someone, who could help her get out of this s.p.a.ce? Feeling a bit uneasy, she stood there for a while. Under the urging of the operator, she decided to be honest and said, “I… I’ve encountered a problem. I want to ask which department in the organization can help.”

“What’s the problem?” the operator asked.

“I’ve been trapped in an independent s.p.a.ce where time is frozen by some means… I can’t get out, and I can’t break it. The things I have with me… uh, and the weapons from our factory are all useless.”

The operator didn’t sound surprised at all. His tone was so professional and natural that Lin Sanjiu faintly felt he had probably heard various requests for help. “I understand. Try the Department of Physical Properties. They might have the information that could help you.”

Eventhough the operator belonged to an organization that was a major rival ofSilvan, Lin Sanjiu felt a sense of grat.i.tude towards this operator. Most of the people who kept the Munitions Factory running on a daily basis were likely ordinary posthumans like him. it was hard for her to a.s.sociate these lower-level ordinary members with the arrogant Twelve Worlds.

When Silvan took over the Heaven Underworld division, she wondered if he had spared these ordinary posthumans.

As the person on the other end of the communicator switched to a female voice, Lin Sanjiu’s train of thought was cut off.

“Um, from your description, I think this falls under a fairly typical spatial attack item effect. There are many types of spatial items, and this one is specifically designed for attacks,” the woman said, sounding quite serious. “Using a part of the real world as a model, just like bubbles forming on the surface of water. A new ‘bubble s.p.a.ce’ rapidly forms over the real world, and you are enclosed within that bubble s.p.a.ce. I’ve seen quite a few of these spatial attack items. This method of attack is quite expensive, costing around a hundred thousand.”

“Why am I wrapped in an independent s.p.a.ce yet still able to use the communicator?” As for why the chocolate cake appeared here, Lin Sanjiu hesitated before deciding not to reveal that information to a stranger.

“The two s.p.a.ces have connecting points,” the woman answered. “The connecting point is where you were pushed from the real world into the bubble s.p.a.ce. The communication signal can be transmitted back through that connecting point.”

As Lin Sanjiu’s hope surged, the woman added, “But you can’t.”

“Huh?”

“The owner of the item has already closed that connecting point. If you could disperse yourself into the most basic form of energy, I suppose you could penetrate it, just like radiation or signals can pa.s.s through walls. It’s the same principle,” the woman said in a matter-of-fact tone, showing no empathy for the listener’s feelings. “But once you’re out, you’ll be scattered, becoming a part of cosmic energy. You’d be better off being a prisoner.”

Lin Sanjiu rubbed her face vigorously. “So, what should I do then?”

After the woman’s response, “See what the person imprisoning you plans to do next,” Lin Sanjiu promptly disconnected the communication.

Frustrated and annoyed, Lin Sanjiu threw the communicator back into her card inventory and then sat beside the pile of items with a thud. She knew full well that she didn’t have anything that could deal with that spatial attack item thing—something that sounded quite advanced—so she didn’t bother searching anymore. Mechanically, one by one, she began converting each item back into a card.

Her actions came to a halt about half a minute later.

The woman on the other end of the communication mentioned that there are many types of spatial items, right?

Lin Sanjiu couldn’t return to the world where Silvan was through the bubble s.p.a.ce Advaita created. But could she go through some other s.p.a.ce instead?

She happened to have an item that led to a different s.p.a.ce.

Unfortunately, it was a bit small. Lin Sanjiu looked at the silver trash can, which could only fit her hand, and sighed.

Things that fell into this silver trash can all disappeared, surely sent to another s.p.a.ce. If Silvan’s Erudite were here, they might be able to replicate a larger trash bin for her to enter, but what could she do now?

Sometimes, people do foolish things out of unwillingness. For example, Lin Sanjiu, knowing she couldn’t suddenly shrink, couldn’t resist enveloping her hand with her [Defense Field]. She clenched her fist tightly and slowly reached into the trash can.

The silver trash can gradually consumed her fist and wrist. She had a lean and agile figure, so her arm could fit in but, at most, up to her shoulder. No matter what, she couldn’t move forward any further. She didn’t feel much sensation; if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t even be able to tell that she had entered another s.p.a.ce.

She couldn’t help but move her wrist a bit, opening her fist, closing it, then opening it again. She had no idea what kind of environment her hand was in.

It was precisely then that someone grasped Lin Sanjiu’s hand.